Christmas in His Bed

“Excuse me,” Tatum said, slipping from the room.

He watched her go.

“Go on,” Lucy said, pushing him toward the door with a smile.

* * *

TATUM SMILED AT the bartender as he filled her glass. “Thank you.” She sat at the bar, scanning the empty dining room. Everyone was in the library. The quiet was a nice change.

“Not a fan of crowds?”

She heard Spencer’s voice and smiled into her glass. She’d known he’d follow her. Wasn’t that why she’d let him know she was leaving? “It was getting a little stuffy in there.” She glanced at him, sitting on the bar stool next to her.

“Spencer.” He held his hand out.

She hesitated, her brows arching. “Tatum?” So he wanted to play games? Fine. Bring it. Anticipation settled hot and sweet in the pit of her stomach.

“You sound like you’re not sure.” The gravel of his voice drove her crazy.

“Sorry, I...I thought we’d met before?” She waited but he just smiled at her. “Guess I had you confused with someone else.” He was too good-looking, too intense. He looked at her like she was naked. She felt naked.

He shook his head. “I’d remember you.”

She smiled slightly, buzzing with pure lust.

“Who?” he asked, his gaze fastened on her mouth.

“Who what?” she asked.

“Who did you think I was?”

She smiled. “This guy I’m sleeping with.”

“Lucky guy,” he said, still staring at her mouth.

Lucky her. Spencer was an incredible lover. “I was hoping he’d come tonight,” she said, breathless.

“Why?” he asked. His gaze crashed into her.

“I’ve been thinking about him,” she managed. She could do this. “He...he’s really good with his hands.”

He slammed his beer bottle down on the counter, making the bartender look up from his ledger at the end of the counter. She turned toward Spencer, away from the bartender, nervous enough without an audience.

“Just his hands?” he asked.

She shook her head. “And his mouth.”

Spencer slid off his stool, standing so close heat rolled off of him. His hand rested on her knee, sliding beneath the wool of her skirt. His fingers slid higher, finding the edge of her stockings. He closed his eyes, his jaw locking hard. His fingers slid around, finding the silky straps of her garter belt. “Wear this for him?” he asked, so rough she shivered.

She nodded, knowing their behavior was reckless but beyond caring. She’d never ached like this before, never worried she’d lose control so easily. “Think he might like it?” she asked, slipping forward on the stool, forcing his hand higher.

His breath tickled her ear. “I need you. Now,” he growled, pressing her hand along the zipper of his slacks. Her fingers stroked his rigid length, making him swallow.

His fingers dipped higher and then he froze.

She wasn’t wearing any panties.

“Dammit all to hell, Tatum,” he muttered.