Hot Christmas Kisses. Joss Wood

unless she now had a boyfriend and had moved on, nothing should’ve changed. And if she had found someone—a thought that froze the blood in his veins—then why the hell hadn’t she just said so? That was their deal, dammit.

      “Got someone else, Dylan-Jane?”

      It took her a little time to make sense of his words, but when she did, her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. Yep, that was answer enough. So, no boyfriend. “Then what’s the problem?”

      DJ glared at him, sent the young receptionist a cool smile and jerked her head toward the stairway. “Can we discuss this in private?”

      Matt jammed his hands into the pockets of his pants as he followed DJ up the stairs and down a short passageway to a corner office. He stepped inside the brutally neat room and watched her stride toward her wide desk.

      She wanted to put a physical barrier between them but he had no intention of letting that happen. One long step allowed him to capture her wrist. He swung her around and pulled her to him so that her breasts touched his chest and the top of her head brushed his chin. He looked down at her, his mouth quirking at her shocked expression. “So, no new guy, then?”

      “No.”

      Thank God. Matt dropped his gaze from her eyes to her mouth and after a couple of beats, looked her in the eyes again. She immediately understood what he wanted...and yeah, it was what she wanted, too. The attraction between them had always been a living, breathing thing. A year ago, he would’ve dived into the kiss and been sure of his welcome, but too much time and distance had created a barrier between them. It was hell to wait for her to make the first move, to wait for her to rise onto her toes and fit her mouth against his. It took a minute, maybe more, but then her lips were on his and the world suddenly made sense again.

      Matt immediately took control of the kiss, covering her mouth with his, sliding his hands over her hips and bringing her flush against him. His pants immediately shrunk a size as he filled the empty places of his soul by kissing Dylan-Jane. Spice, sex, heat, heaven...

      It took less than a heartbeat for Dylan-Jane to open her mouth up to his tongue, and a second later her arms were looped around his neck and her fingers were in his hair. Potent relief ran through him: she still, thank God, wanted him as much as he craved her.

      Matt wound his tongue around hers, tasting her spiciness and sweetness, and sighed. Yeah, he’d missed this, missed her breathy moans and the purrs of appreciation she made in the back of her throat.

      When DJ’s fingers pushed into his hair, when she held his head to keep his mouth on hers, he knew she was fully, completely in the moment with him.

      Matt pushed aside his urge to strip her, telling himself that he wasn’t going to make love to her on her office couch in the middle of the day. But he could kiss her, let her fill up those hollow spaces in his soul. He needed nothing as much as he needed to hold her...

      Soft, sweet and still sexy—Matt felt like he’d conquered the world when she quivered under his touch. He needed to taste more of her, kiss a place more intimate than her mouth, so he flipped open the top buttons of her designer silk shirt and pushed aside the fabric to reveal her lace-and-satin bra. Unable to wait, he pulled aside the cup and there she was, pretty and plump. Ducking his head, he touched his lips to her, swiping his tongue across her nipple, feeling the shudder run through her.

      He loved that he could make her feel like this, that he could take her from mad and sad to pleasure, that he could put those purrs in her throat, make her arch her back in eagerness. Her fingers in his hair tightened as he blew air over her nipple and his name on her lips was both a plea and a demand for more.

      He moved to her other breast, loving the taste and texture of her. His hand traveled down her hip. Matt slid his other hand over her ass, kneading her under the fabric of her skirt before inching the material up so his fingers brushed the back of her thighs. He wanted those legs around his hips, her breasts in his mouth. He needed to be inside her as soon as possible.

      He wanted them naked; he needed her. Matt’s hand slid between her legs, wishing away the fabric barriers between her secret places and his fingers...

      Then Matt was touching air and DJ was...gone.

      Matt looked at the empty space between them and shook his head. One minute she was in his arms and the next she was halfway across the room, staring at him, her mouth wet from his kisses and her eyes blurry with desire. She wanted him, so why the hell was she six feet away and he was here? Matt took a step toward her and DJ held up her hands.

      “This is my office, Edwards. I’m not about to get naked with you here.”

      Fair point. How soon could they leave? It had been a hell of a long time since he’d seen her naked, kissed her senseless, heard her moan as she fell apart in his arms.

      “I’m not about to get naked with you at all.”

      Matt blinked. What?

      There wasn’t anyone else. They’d just shared a kiss hot enough to melt glass. They’d been sleeping together for many years. He was going to be around for the foreseeable future and she was cutting him off?

      What was happening here?

      What was he missing?

      DJ gestured to the sofa. “Take a seat, let’s talk.”

      He’d rather be making love, but since that was out of the question Matt sat down, adjusting his still rock-hard erection and begging it to calm the hell down because it wasn’t needed at this precise moment.

      “Coffee?” DJ asked.

      Matt nodded, stretched out his legs and ordered himself to get a grip. He watched DJ with narrowed eyes as she popped a pod into her fancy machine, powered it up and, when the mug was full, added a dash of milk. Ignoring the sugar dispenser, she walked over, placing the mug on the coffee table in front of him. Then she took the seat opposite him and draped one slim leg over her bouncing knee.

      DJ was nervous. Now, that was interesting.

      “What are you doing back in Boston, Matt, and how long do you intend to stay?”

      “I have some personal business that necessitates me sticking around for a few weeks. One part of that personal business is persuading my grandfather to move into an assisted-living facility.”

      DJ’s eyes turned warm with sympathy and his heart stuttered. He loved her expressive eyes, the way emotions swam through them, the way they resembled luxurious chocolate.

      “Is he sick?”

      Matt shook his head. “Alzheimer’s.”

      “I’m so sorry, Matt.” DJ tipped her head to the side, curiosity all over her face. “And your other personal business?”

      He wasn’t ready to talk to her, or anyone, about his daughter, Emily.

      Besides, he wasn’t here to talk. He wanted to feel. He wanted to touch the skin on the inside of DJ’s thighs, pull her tasty nipples into his mouth, nibble her toes. In her arms, while he loved her, he could forget about the complications of this past year.

      Dylan-Jane was his escape, his fantasy woman, the perfect relationship because it was all surface. Because she didn’t demand anything more than he was prepared to give.

      But instead of falling into him and losing herself in the pleasure he could give her, she was retreating. Hell, if she had “back off, buster” tattooed across her forehead, her message couldn’t be any clearer. DJ uncrossed her legs, leaned forward and rested her forearms on her bended knees. She stared at her hands for a long time before looking up at Matt. “Cards on the table, Matt?”

      He didn’t expect a good hand but nodded anyway.

      “Your being back in Boston, even on a short-term basis, doesn’t work for me.”

      Well, hell. Not what he wanted to hear. In his mind, reality crashed into fantasy and he felt a little sick. And