Red-Hot Santa. Tori Carrington

hear it.

      But he had …

      And his answer was to do what he’d been wanting to all night: kiss her.

      OH … SWEET … SALVATION …

      The last thing Max expected was for Jax to kiss her. She may have wanted it—wanted it? She craved it to the pads of her feet—but she’d somehow managed to convince herself that not only was he not interested in kissing her, he’d be offended if she kissed him.

      Yet now his hot mouth pressed against hers, his tongue seeking entrance. Permission all too willingly granted.

      Oh, yes …

      His kiss was even sexier than she imagined it might be. And that was saying a lot considering she’d done a whole lot of imagining over the past decade and a half, her fantasy abilities growing with each chronological milestone she reached, every intimate experience she encountered.

      This one kiss was better than all the kisses she’d ever enjoyed … combined.

      What was that humming sound? Oh. It was her. And not only was she making strange, hungry noises, she was leaning into him …

      Oh, was she ever leaning into him.

      Max snaked her arms under his and made full-on contact, her fingers digging into the back of his denim shirt. If there had been any question of his physical awareness of her earlier, there was no mistaking it now: his hard length pressed insistently against her lower belly, telling her in no uncertain terms where he most wanted to be.

      Exactly where she wanted him to be.

      He caught her by the shoulders, as out of breath as she was. “Wait, wait, wait …”

      She didn’t want to wait. She’d waited long enough.

      “This is … crazy … insane …”

      She nodded. It was.

      “Where did this come from? We’ve never …”

      She was incapable of words. Hell, just then, she was incapable of breathing worth a damn.

      “We’re friends.”

      She smiled at that. “Yes, we are.”

      He was her best friend. The one person in the entire world she’d always known she could turn to if she needed anyone, someone to talk to about whatever was bothering her …

      Until now. Now, she couldn’t have uttered a word if she tried.

      “I don’t want … I mean, the last thing …”

      He released her shoulders and she felt as if he’d just dropped her onto her face from a second story balcony.

      She watched him pace away, then back again, running his hands through his hair again and again.

      “This is nuts. We’re friends. I don’t want to lose that.”

      “Who says we have to?”

      He stopped five feet away and stared at her. “Is this a good idea?” he asked, searching her face.

      “I don’t know,” she whispered. “But it feels …”

      Good? Phenomenal? Incredible?

      She barely heard his groan before he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her again, this time within an inch of her life.

      Yes …

      Red-hot sensation swept over her, making her feel everything, yet nothing at all except a deep, needful hunger for his tongue against hers. She tunneled her fingers under his T-shirt, running them along his sides before curving them against his back, holding tight. So good, so right. So hot …

      She gasped when she felt him slide his hands under her shirt, his knuckles grazing her stomach before he cupped both her breasts through her bra, then worked his way under it. As his thumbs rasped over her stiff nipples, fireworks erupted, unleashing a flood of emotion that weakened her bones, leaving her completely dependent on him to hold her upright.

      He ripped his mouth from hers and bent his head, licking each of her nipples, squeezing her breasts just short of the brink of pain before drawing her right nipple deep into the hot depths of his mouth.

      Max stretched her neck and moaned as he licked and sucked, the pool of need between her thighs deepening, widening, until she was sure she had creamed through her jeans.

      She breathlessly cradled his head in her hands and drew him back up, kissing him hard, unable to get enough of him. He tasted, felt, smelled so good. Better than any one man had a right to.

      Unable to stop herself, she slid her hand down between them, not stopping until she cupped the hard ridge of his sex under his jeans. She moaned at the thick length of him. Needing to feel more, she popped the steel buttons, not stopping until her fingers were inside his boxers and she held his throbbing flesh in her palm.

      Oh, sweet hell …

      She stroked him almost reverently, then squeezed, as if claiming possession.

      His low groan fed her need.

      As if he couldn’t wait any longer, he opened the front of her jeans and pushed the denim over her hips, half taking her panties right with them. She stepped out of one leg and was about to step out of the other when he cupped her crotch, and stopped her breath.

      He dragged his mouth from hers, his groan deeper. “God, you’re so wet, so hot …”

      Fingers sought and found access to the source of her heat. When his thumb grazed her clit, she bit on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. When that same thumb worked back and forth over her slick vagina, then thrust up deep inside her, she couldn’t do anything but cry out, clutching his shoulders for dear life.

      As she staved off orgasm with little hope of succeeding, she absently wondered why all this seemed so new to her … so powerful. Surely, she’d known her fair share of lovers, beginning with Johnny Denton on the couch in the basement of his parents’ house just before her eighteenth birthday. Sure, the event hadn’t been anything memorable … and thankfully she’d been curious enough to push on to her next lover, determined to discover what everybody was raving about.

      But this …

      This …

      She cried out his name, coming so hard she was sure the only thing supporting her was his hand and the phenomenal things it was doing to her between her legs.

      “Oh my God …” she murmured again and again.

      She kissed him lingeringly as he continued to stroke her.

      Then he grasped her womanhood solidly in his hand. “I want you.” His kiss gained momentum. “I want to feel you, be inside you …”

      Yes.

      Max wasn’t sure if she’d merely thought the word or said it, but her response was unmistakable.

      He backed her toward the bedroom and she went, pushing back his denim shirt and tugging up his T-shirt as they went, not finishing one before moving onto the other while he did the same with her coat and top and bra. They reached for each other’s jeans at the same time, fumbling until they gave up and did their own, hers still wrapped around one ankle as they tumbled to the bed.

      Hurry, she wanted to whisper, before he changed his mind again.

      Then, finally, he was sheathed and sliding into her to the hilt.

      Max’s back came up off the bed and her lungs seized, refusing air, a dark, throbbing heat diving deep, taking hold of her, making her tremble. She didn’t think she’d ever known such a complete, utter connection with another human being. Until now. He filled her not only physically, but she felt inextricably joined with him in ways that transcended description.

      He moved and a moan ripped from her throat from an untouched place she didn’t recognize. It