Naughty Nicks (8 page)

Blake shifted in his seat and stepped on the gas a bit harder.

Stripping for Kim simply wouldn’t happen.

Ever.

Chapter Five

Kim was not the most patient person in the world. She’d learned how to distract herself so she’d be able to manage the time and not drive herself crazy. But when she knew something was coming, and that something was exactly what she wanted, her mind did mean and nasty things that prevented her from being a normal human being. Like stopping her from being able to work out, or to figure out how to make an egg salad sandwich.

It was egg salad for fuck’s sake.
How hard could it be?

She dumped the still runny eggs into a bowl, slapped a hunk of cold butter on top and waited for her bread to toast. Breakfast for supper worked too. She wasn’t about to substitute her glass of wine for a coffee though, knowing the caffeine would do nothing to improve her mood.

Blake hadn’t shown up here at her home yet, nor was he answering his cell phone. It was now past 6:00 p.m., and she doubted he’d be making good on his promise.

Bastard.

Bing Crosby’s voice floated in from her bedroom where
White Christmas
was playing on one of the local channels. She loved this part of the movie and yet, she couldn’t drag up the energy to move her body to go see it. Bing had a glow to him in that scene, a soft look of sentimental contentment that infused itself into his song. Kim had been fascinated with the movie since she was a kid for that very reason, always wanting to know what it would feel like to be that Zen with the world.

For a brief moment last night when Blake was kissing her, she thought she understood. Her body had electrified, become in tune with his as his mouth covered her own. Her heart pounded, but she could feel his matching hers beat for beat. She’d lost track of time and place, couldn’t hear anything beyond the soft moans he made in the back of his throat as he’d deepened the kiss.

Stunned. That’s what she’d been.

Sarah and the girls had thoroughly enjoyed teasing the snot out of her after Blake’s departure. No matter how many times she’d tried to redirect them back to the evening’s schedule, no one was interested.

Who was that?

He’s hot.
Did he use lots of tongue?

Can you get him as the next Naughty Nick?

If you’re not interested
,
can I have his phone number?

Kim hadn’t thrown that many dirty looks to discourage people since her grad class pub crawl. The bugger of the situation was that she had no claim whatsoever on Blake. Until the moment of the kiss—the first one, not the second—she couldn’t have definitively said he saw her as any more than his reliable little holiday helper and seasonal friend. Lots of wishful thinking on her part and the occasional mixed signal, but nothing she could point to and say,
hey look
,
he wants to have sex again
,
or dinner
,
or something
. Clearly, there was something else going on in that head of his, something Kim was too scared to think about.

Where the hell
was
he?

Her mushy eggs and nearly burned toast were consumed with determination as she watched Bing and his buddy Danny Kaye shuffle across her flat screen looking more than happy with the girls. The wine quickly followed, leaving an odd mix of flavors in her mouth. Still, it was better to face the music with a slight buzz than sit around and sulk because she’d been stood up by her boss...who’d had his tongue down her throat the night before...and appeared to have enjoyed things.

Kim groaned and flopped back against her pillows, refusing to watch any more.

“What the hell am I doing?”

Their kiss by the bathroom had been a strange, almost surreal event that she would have questioned if it happened if it hadn’t been for the recurring fantasies she’d furiously masturbated to ever since. She’d gotten the impression that had been more than a little impulsive on his part, something that he’d regretted given his disappearing act.

And last night Blake had been forced into kissing her. There was no way Sarah and the girls would have let him escape without a good showing. He’d always been a good sport when it came to things like that and she wasn’t surprised he’d been willing to play along. His quirky sense of humor and ability to roll with the punches was one of the reasons Naughty Nicks had become so successful in such a short time.

Maybe he simply wanted to see her today to apologize for taking advantage of the situation. That was exactly the type of thing Blake would do. He’d blame himself, writing the evening’s events up to something outside of his control. No wonder he was dragging his feet. He was probably in the office writing a speech, making sure it wouldn’t be offensive to her lest she quit, leaving him high and dry.

The sound of the doorbell echoed through her apartment and set her heart racing. Kim sat bolt upright, her head throbbing in protest from the sudden change in her orientation. Of course he’d show up
now
. She’d taken the effort to look good, all of which meant nothing after an afternoon of moping. Touching her hair, she could only imagine the state she must look. There was a coffee stain on the thigh of her jeans and her Snoopy Christmas T-shirt now sported an impressive set of wrinkles.

Oh well, he better not say anything if he expected to leave with his jingle balls attached.

Kim made it to the door by the third ring, and still needed a moment to collect herself before she could open it. Because it was Blake standing on the other side—she hoped—and he’d never been to her apartment before. Not once. Normally, she’d go through on a last-minute tear, cleaning up whatever she could. But considering the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on today, the pile of laundry on her couch shouldn’t be a big deal.

Closing her eyes, she flicked the lock and pulled the door open. “It would have been better to have stated an actual time so I didn’t waste my whole day.”

There wasn’t a sound, which forced Kim to actually look at her visitor. Instead of seeing Blake, or God forbid the pizza guy, the only thing her brain was able to register was the color red.

Lots and lots of red.

With some white around the fringe. And a giant white fake beard.

“No,” she said in little more than a whisper. It would have simply been too ridiculous to rub her eyes, ensuring that the vision before her was real.

It was a Santa Claus.

The jacket of the man fell open to reveal a bare chest, covered with only the lightest dusting of hair.

No, it wasn’t Santa. This was one of her Naughty Nicks.

“Shit.” Kim resisted the urge to lick her lips, but she wasn’t strong enough to tear her gaze away from that barest hint of flesh to look into the eyes of the man standing there. She thought she could identify each of the guys by their midsections, but apparently she needed a refresher course.

“Blake sent you here?”

“Not exactly.”

Kim gasped. She knew that voice better than anyone else. Maybe the wine had gone to her head and was making her hallucinate. “
Blake?
”

“Mind if I come in? It’s drafty out here.”

Kim backed away, more out of shock than any true acknowledgment of his request. “What are you doing? I mean, I know what you’re doing here, you told me you were coming. But why are you here dressed like that?”

He took up most of the small doorway as he pushed his way in. The large black bag that hung over his shoulder banged against the wall. Flipping it around to hold it out in front of him tugged more at his Santa jacket, exposing more of the tantalizingly naked flesh beneath.

Oh, this was fucked up. And strangely erotic.

“Living room is this way?” Blake didn’t bother waiting for her response, instead moving past her. “Nice place you have here.”

“Thanks.” Any other time, she’d have rolled with the punches and simply accepted what was being thrown her way. But there was no way she could get this worked out in her overactive brain. Blake was finally here, but not in the way she’d ever imagined. “I said, why are you wearing that?”

“I need you to come sit down, please.”

“Are you going to answer my questions?”

“I will. Once you sit down.” He grabbed hold of the arms of her reclining chair and pulled it away from the couch. Next he shifted the coffee table so it was against the far wall. The result of those two moves opened up a respectable amount of space where someone would be able to dance.

Or strip, as the case might be.

Holy shit, Blake was going to strip for her.

“This chair.” He patted the cushion, sending the fake beard fluttering.

The entire situation was far too ridiculous for words. Instead of protesting or bothering with any more questions, Kim did as he asked and sat down in the chair. Her legs weren’t going to keep her upright much longer anyway.

He straightened up and braced his hands on his hips. She could barely make out his smile from beneath the piled curls. “Comfy?”

“Sure.”

“Positive?”

“Yes.”

“I can get you a blanket or—”

“Why are you dressed like Naughty Nick, Blake?”

He held up his finger for a moment, before going after his Santa’s bag. A small portable MP3 player was placed on the newly relocated coffee table. When he pressed Play and the Naughty Nick opening music started up, every bit of moisture left Kim’s mouth.

“No.” This was far too fucked up for words. “You’re not.”

Blake moved into the center of the room and tugged the Santa beard down so it hung around his neck. Now able to see his face, there was no mistaking the mischief in his eyes or the determined set of his jaw.

“I really, really am.” He reached up and pulled the Santa hat off and tossed it her way.

Kim caught it easily, loving how his heat and smell clung to the fabric. “Why?”

“It seemed the logical next step.”

“From
mistletoe?
”

Blake shrugged. “Do you want me to stop?”

Did she? Kim had been fascinated with him for almost as long as she’d known him. Hell, hadn’t she spent most of the day pining away because she thought he’d stood her up? Was she going to say no, kick his ass to the curb and have nothing to do with the man she’d fantasized about since the one night they’d had sex?

Screw that.

Kim took the Santa hat and slipped it on her head, before leaning back. “Give ’er, Nick.”

With a flick of his wrist, he turned up the volume so the music filled her apartment. With two quick steps he stood in the center of the room directly in front of her. With his gaze locked on her, Blake began to swing his hips in time with the rhythm. It was initially a bit awkward, but he quickly got into the beat. Blake pulled the Santa beard off, tossing it over her head.

“You missed.”

The tantalizing glimpse of naked skin had expanded so she was now able to see the full column of his throat. Trying not to squirm in her seat, Kim forced her body still and her gaze up. Because as much as this was a fantasy come true—and holy shit, it was one of her top-shelf fantasies at that—this wasn’t the type of thing her boss and friend would normally do.

“So, Santa,” Kim squeezed the arms of the chair as Blake began to thrust his hips to the beat, “Can I ask where you’ve been all day?”

He turned his back to her and opened up one side of the jacket, holding it out to the side. Dammit, she really wanted to see what was underneath. “I was in training.” He pulled the other side open and looked back over his shoulder at her. “It took longer than expected.”

Turn around
,
turn around
,
turn around.
“Training?”

Blake spun back to face her, but as he did he pulled the jacket closed once more. “You know I’m not the most coordinated man. And I don’t have a fucking clue when it comes to stripping. Thankfully, I know some guys who are experts. They were willing to show me a thing or two so I could do this right.”

He released the sides of the jacket to pull his black gloves off. Kim shifted to the edge of her seat and leaned forward on her thighs. “Who?”

“Greg and Stephen. And Clark. Ryan and George showed up toward the end to offer support, suggestions and beer.”

“Holy shit.” That was most of the core group of guys, along with their new human-shaped Goldendoodle. “Why did they—”

“Apparently you and I have been the topic of conversation for a while now. And they wanted to give Clark some more training anyway, so it was a good opportunity.” Blake made his way closer, using his teeth to loosen each finger on the second glove before tossing the pair in her lap. “Now, no more talking.”

From this distance, Kim was easily able to see his skin beneath the jacket. The white fringe was still a barrier and she wanted nothing more than to rip the thing aside. Blake must have sensed her itchy fingers, because he immediately moved backward out of reach.

The bastard.

Clearly, Blake was not an expert dancer. The sway of his hips was jerky and his hands didn’t land easily where Kim would have expected them to go. Not that any of that mattered, because this was
Blake
and he had taken a crash course on stripping from a group of men who he normally only saw once a month. She’d been worried that he’d lost his spark and was sinking into a hole of loneliness. Boy, did this prove her wrong.

And he’d learned all of this just for her.

Wow.

Well, if he’d gone through all that trouble to learn how to be one of their Naughty Nicks, the least Kim could do was give him the full effect. On his next turn around and butt wiggle, Kim whistled as loudly as she could, clapping when he dipped his hips a bit lower.

“Shake that ass! I want to see
skin!
Take it off, Nick.”

Wasn’t that a charming blush he now sported. Too cute for words.

But her encouragement worked because when Blake next caught her gaze, he yanked open the jacket and let it fall halfway down his arms.

Oh. Fuck.

While his abs weren’t as chiseled as some of their guys, Blake was looking mighty fine indeed. She’d forgotten how much she loved the way his body looked. The way the muscles of his shoulders flexed as he moved, revealing strong arms and firm pecs. Despite saying he didn’t, clearly Blake spent time at the gym.