Unwrapped

“We’re not home yet,” he murmured, nudging her knees open.

Her blood thickened in her veins. No. She couldn’t. If he touched her again, she’d shatter. She’d plead with them to forgive her and ask their understanding for all her screwed-up thoughts. She’d believed she’d moved so far beyond the young, confused girl who’d wanted so badly to blend in with the crowd, but she hadn’t. She was nothing but a traitor because when she

’d made the biggest mistake ever, what had she done?

Run home to her mommy.

“Matt,” she breathed, lacking the strength to tell him to back off. That was another of her problems. She’d thought she was strong? She was nothing but a shivery mess in their hands. Just one look from hot brown eyes in Matt’s case—or green in Tristan’s—and she was willing to do anything they wished.

“Lift up your skirt,” he commanded, already kneeling. “Open up for me.”

She saw Tristan’s gaze flick up to the rearview before his jaw firmed and he returned his attention to the road. Apparently he had no interest in playing voyeur.

Arguing seemed stupid. Not when she wanted desperately to know Matt’s mouth one more time. She spread her thighs and peeled her panties aside, pressing her lips together as she realized how the fabric clung. Just his demand made her wet. Just knowing he’d bend his head to her pussy and lick her until she forgot she was supposed to not want this made her piston her hips, driving herself up toward his waiting mouth.

He didn’t give her time to regret her impulse. He dove in deep, swirling his tongue over her swollen labia again and again, gripping her thighs to bring her closer while he ravished her with every ounce of passion she’d come to expect from him. From them both. His lips sealed around her clit, and he sucked hard while he slid a finger inside her, then two, building her orgasm so fast she couldn’t fight to hold on. Her legs shook, the need rising from so far down inside her she was afraid she’d scream when he brought her to the inevitable conclusion.

There was no staving it off, the scream erupting inside her or the climax speeding through her system like a bullet train, taking down everything in its path. Her fears, her reservations, her denials. She could only drive her fingers through his hair and drag him against her, mashing her cunt to his masterful lips without shame.

He eased back after he soothed her quivering flesh with sensuous openmouthed kisses she knew she’d crave for the rest of her life. He lifted his gaze to hers as he licked his lips, drawing out the moment. Strengthening her need.

She gulped in air, summoning her control. She couldn’t fling promises at them she knew she’d never be able to keep. It was just sex. They were good at it, and she was a novice. Once she found a way to sate this suddenly uncontrollable desire inside her, she’d be fine.

Wordlessly, Matt pressed his mouth to her knee, a sweetly chaste kiss. And her eyes filled with tears that scalded her skin as much as the release still coating her inner thighs.

“Almost there,” Tristan said in a wooden tone unlike any she’d heard from him before. “Might want to belt in before we hit the city limits. Lots of cops out this way.”

Matt clambered back onto the seat beside her and grabbed her hand, squeezing it once. Then he fastened his seat belt and turned his face toward the window.

Almost there were the coldest words she’d ever heard.

“Abe’s not happy with the campaign.”

Four o’clock on Christmas Eve, and her boss was standing next to her desk, glowering as only Tristan could glower.

At least he was speaking. He hadn’t done much of that since they’d returned on Sunday. Though from the expression on his rigid face, at any moment he’d start throwing punches.

Cait reached for her water glass and sipped, making sure her face betrayed nothing when she looked up at him again. “I did as he asked. You requested spec designs, I gave you spec designs. I’ve spent all day doing two completely different full-page ads.”

“He’s not happy with them. Since he’s our most lucrative customer, we need to give him what he wants. Do you have any clue how much money he’s bringing into this firm?”

“No.” She tugged on her hair and then threw it over her shoulder. “I’m just the dumb office blonde. What do I know?”

Matt choked back a laugh from his computer, but he averted his gaze when she looked his way.

So much for enjoying the freaking holiday. Snow swirled around outside, making the world into a Christmas postcard. Other people were home with their families. But they weren’t. Oh no. Matt’s mom was out doing some last-minute shopping at the mall, and when she returned, they’d be visiting a relative in nearby Stockton. Tristan’s parents were having dinner at seven, and she’d overheard him snapping at them on the phone that he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to make it.

As for her, her mother and sisters were doing their annual chip-and-dip party. There would be drinking and carols and tons of delicious bad-for-you food. She never drank at the party, but she had a feeling she’d be drinking tonight. Heavily.

“Since you’re so smart, you know what losing this account would mean to us. How much of our budget hinges on pleasing a customer we’ve always managed to please in the past.”

Cait stabbed the Enter key and deleted half of the collage she’d been working on. She apparently couldn’t design anymore, so why bother? “I’ve been doing my best, Tristan. Who else do you think would work on fucking Christmas Eve but me? I’m not your fucking slave.”

“Think you can get any more fuckings in there, Cait?” Matt asked, sipping loudly on his takeout cup of soda when she would’ve hissed at him.

“You have a problem with the working conditions here?” Tristan ground out, shoving her mouse pad until her mouse clattered against the keyboard. “Then you know where the door is. Run through it, why don’t you? Just like you ran out of the loft.”

She stared at him, shocked he’d voiced the elephant that had thundered through every room they’d been in together since the weekend. This wasn’t only about work, and she knew it.