Unholy Nights: A Twisted Christmas Anthology (22 page)

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Authors: Linda Barlow,Andra Brynn,Carly Carson,Alana Albertson,Kara Ashley Dey,Nicole Blanchard,Cherie Chulick

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Anthologies, #Paranormal, #Collections & Anthologies, #Holidays, #New Adult & College, #Demons & Devils, #Ghosts, #Witches & Wizards

BOOK: Unholy Nights: A Twisted Christmas Anthology
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What would happen if she stood her ground and fought for what she wanted, rather than running away with the excuse that she didn't want whatever was on offer? She snuck another look at Cabot. No, he wasn't on offer.

At least, not yet.

She swung her legs off the lounge chair and stood. "Why do I owe you an apology? Didn't we part amicably?"

"Apparently not," he snapped. "I didn't expect you to disappear in the middle of the night."

"What did you expect?"

"I thought we'd talk in the morning and—and carry on with figuring things out."

"So you came all the way to St. Thomas to yell at me and destroy my vacation?"

"You created a disturbance in my life. I figured I had to create one in yours."

Aha, she thought.
Thank you, Granny.
She smiled at Cabot. She wasn't done creating a disturbance in his life.

"That's a witchy smile if I've ever seen one," he said. "What are you plotting?"

"Since you're still furious, three days after I left, I'm wondering what took you so long to get here."

He shrugged. "I had some stuff to do before I could come down here."

Okay. She wasn't his first priority. As long as she was on his list, she could work with that.

"How'd you find me?"

"Facebook was my spy."

"No better spy." But she didn't have to be mortified about that. Sure she'd posted her whereabouts on Facebook. She often did, in case one of her many far-flung friends ever found themselves in the same location. Cabot would never have seen the info, though, if he hadn't been looking.

He threw his duffle down on the lounge chair. "How could you treat me like that? Leaving no word, so I had to track you down on fucking Facebook." He shook his head in disgust.

"How was I to know you had—expectations of me?" Maybe she'd made a mistake to set all this in motion because her own anger was growing.

"Are you kidding, Dakota?" He stared in disbelief. "Even though we had only one evening together, I gave you the best I had in me. Respect. Friendship. Patience regarding sex." Chords of tension vibrated on his neck. "And you tossed it all aside like so much uninteresting driftwood. Not offering me even the bare courtesy of a thank you for my hospitality. And fled like a coward."

"Spare me your blue-blood notions of noble behavior. I come from the real world."

"I wasn't aware those were blue-blood characteristics." His voice was tight with fury. "I thought they were the marks of common courtesy and respect that decent human beings would give to one another."

Suddenly, her budding anger collapsed. He was right, and guilt was the emotion fueling her. She'd behaved abominably, repaying his hospitality with rudeness and immaturity. She drew a deep breath. "You're right. I'm sorry."

His gaze flicked over her. "Not good enough."

She regarded him uneasily. "What else do you want?"

He looked down at her. "The hell of it is — and it is hell, believe me — the hell of it is that I still want you." He raised one hand. "Your body, I should say. I wouldn't burden you with all the rest of it again. But I would take your body, if I could, to exorcise you from my system."

Chapter 7

Dakota nodded, slowly and held out her hand. "Come up to my room, Cabot."

Something fierce flashed in his eyes. "It's so easy for you? Come up to my room, Cabot, take me, and then go."

She halted, her hand still outstretched. "I want you, Cabot. Do you need to know more?"

Shaking his head, desperate, he joined his hand with hers. "I won't be easy on you."

She understood. He'd had enough of being the supplicant. It was her turn to make the effort. She picked up her carryall, and he grabbed his duffel.

Still with their hands clasped together, they walked into the hotel. Dakota was barely aware of their tight connection, as she was busy plotting. But she did know she felt happy, and secure. When they entered the elevator alone, she turned to face Cabot. When she was sure she had his attention, she lifted a finger, and slid down the strap of her bright yellow bikini top.

His eyes narrowed, but he definitely took more than a peek.

"Should I let down the other one?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, his voice taut.

She obliged him, and then the elevator pinged, and they got off and walked the short distance to her room. Dakota put a little extra swing into her hips, hoping that was the reason why Cabot walked behind her. When she was putting the key card in its slot, he reached one finger in front of her and flipped down her top.

She gasped as her breasts popped free, and her hand fumbled with the key card. Cabot grabbed the card, stuck it in the slot and shoved the door open when the light flashed green.

"Hurry," he said, his voice little more than a growl, waiting for her to enter ahead of him.

Dakota gasped again when she saw her room. Her tropically decorated room, a cool blue and white color scheme, was crowded with red roses. A spectacular spray of roses and red berries in an antique brass bowl stood on the desk. Short, red glass vases standing on the night tables each held a low bouquet of roses, evergreens and small white flowers. And, of course, long-stemmed roses in tall, clear vases stood on other surfaces. The effect was lush and beautiful and luxurious.

The scent was sweet and luscious and she wanted to bury her face in one of the soft-petaled bouquets and inhale deeply. But she was standing here half-naked and she suddenly realized that Cabot's gaze was fixed on her buzzing nipples, and that was way more important than the mystery of who'd sent her all these roses. She didn't have time to wonder about that now. "What—"

"Not now." Cabot kicked off his Sperry Top-siders. "You didn't invite me to your room to answer questions." His gaze swept over her and then he pulled his navy blue polo over his head.

He bore down on her, pushing her backwards toward the bed. When she stumbled, he pounced, bearing her down onto the king-sized bed.

"God," he said. "I want you." He wrapped his hands around her head, holding her as he lowered his own head and plundered her mouth. As he'd said, he wasn't easy on her. He bit her lips, plunged his tongue deep inside her, and scratched her face with his oncoming beard. She opened wider, pressed closer, welcomed him with the hunger she'd been storing up for days.

She cried out with the pleasure of his teeth on her tongue, his hands grabbing her hair. She pressed her bare breasts against him, feeling his chest hair scratch her as she rubbed against him.

When she couldn't breathe any more, she twisted her head away. His hot eyes speared her.

"Take off your top," he said and she yanked herself up, tore off her bikini top and fell back down on top of him. He pushed her up so he could grab her breasts, covering them with both hands, squeezing, his eyes wild, his breath panting in the quiet room. She rubbed her body against his like a starving cat.

But that wasn't enough. He flipped her suddenly and she landed flat on her back. He leaned over her, big enough to block the light as his head came down and latched onto her breast. He sucked one nipple into a hard point and then the other. She writhed against the bedclothes. "Don't stop," she begged as he paused, and stared down at her.

He dropped his head and rubbed his bristly face all over her breasts. She panted with desire.

"Cabot," she moaned.

He cupped his hands, one over each breast, and drew the nipples into stinging points. "These are mine," he said. "Say it."

"They're yours," she said around another moan. She couldn't think of anything but her nipples, hard and hurting with need.

He tightened his grip.

She couldn't think. She writhed against him but no matter how she moved, he didn't let go. Didn't ease up on the pressure. Didn't allow her a quarter inch of release.

"Help me, Cabot," she pleaded.

"Do you want me?"

"Yes, yes." She grabbed for his erection, but his pants were in the way. She wanted hot, smooth, naked skin, not bulging khaki fabric.

"Are you on the pill?"

She couldn't wait for the belt. She unzipped him, and plunged inside his pants, her hand finally closing around his hard length. For a second, she calmed at the blissful feeling of finally holding him where she owned him.

"The pill, Dakota. Tell me." His voice was hard and urgent as his hands finally left her breasts so he could yank at his belt. He left her for a moment to pull off his pants and she closed her eyes so she could savor the wonderful feelings coursing through her.

"Fuck," she heard him say, but she couldn't focus on that when her hands were finally learning all about his hard muscled body, and her lips were kissing his neck, and he was doing something down there—

He slid inside her and she cried out. The scents of man and roses swirled together, wrapping her in a cocoon of sensory pleasure even as his body trapped hers, holding her beneath him so she was helpless to do anything but feel the rhythmic pounding as he gave her the ride he'd promised her on the night they met.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him and bit down on his shoulder when the ever-increasing tension threatened to overwhelm her.

"Hang on, baby," he muttered in her ear. "Draw it out." But his words were the final stimulus that set her off as ecstasy peaked sharply, and she broke apart in a million sparkles of bliss.

She heard him groan and then they finally lay still, clutching each other. Dakota was boneless under him, too wiped out to even contemplate moving. No matter what else happened, that experience alone had been worth everything. Pressing her lips to his shoulder she smiled.

Cabot lifted his head. "What?"

"That wasn't what I intended." She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"No?"

"I was going to try to make amends for what I'd done. Not only fleeing, but sneaking out of your house without a word."

He slipped off her and she heard something drop in the trash can. She looked over. "When did you put on a condom?"

He laughed and then turned back to cuddle her in his arms. "I guess I should be flattered that you were too far gone to notice."

"Yeah. You blew me away."

"Ditto." He grinned at her. "But I'm willing to make myself available again if you want to do it the way you originally intended." His toffee colored eyes glinted with mischief. "How were you going to make amends?"

She moved to kneel between his legs. "I thought I might try something different." She rubbed a hand up each hard thigh, pushing his legs further apart. "You are definitely not a boy," she cooed. "You got that right."

"Keep going," he urged. "A guy will forgive anything when you're doing that."

She bent down and licked him, just once, and then raised her head. "This is serious, Cabot. Do you forgive me?"

He groaned dramatically. "I forgive you. I love you. Is that good enough?" His hands tunneled into her hair and pressed down on her.

When she resisted the pressure, he eased up and she raised her head again, staring at him. "Did you say you love me?"

"Yes." His eyes met hers. "And I do. Now can we go back to our regularly scheduled programming?"

"Don't you want to know if I love you?"

He sighed, and pulled her up to lie on his shoulder. "I know you do, Dakota, now that I'm here. When I came here I didn't know if you'd fled Nantucket in fear or disgust."

"Disgust?"

"If you didn't want me, I'd come on too strong in the hot tub. But if you left in fear, then you were afraid of the feeling between us. It was overwhelming, intense, call it what you will. That love charm of yours packed a powerful punch."

"Do you think this—" Dakota waved a hand between them "—was the result of a love charm?"

"I don't know." He grinned. "Are you a witch?"

She smiled back at him, her heart full. "I prefer to think of myself as a smart woman."

"Right. So call it the success of a love charm, call it witchery, or call it love at first sight. It all works for me."

"What about the roses, Cabot? Did you send them?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "Is there someone else who might have?"

"You were so angry with me."

"I still loved you."

"How did you know that? We'd just met."

He shrugged. "I knew the moment I saw you. I'll never forget you standing on that boat in your red cape, your black hair flying in the wind, the snowflakes kissing you exactly like I wanted to." His gaze swept up her body. "Everywhere."

Dakota shivered, even though the heat in his eyes burned her.

"And yet," she said, "you turned me down for sex."

He shook his head. "I didn't turn you down. You could have had me that night at my house," he murmured. "But you didn't try to entice me at all once we got to the bedroom—"

Yeah. She'd taken the path of least resistance. She'd fled. "What can I say? I was a fool."

"Without any encouragement from you, I couldn't take the risk of pushing you for sex."

"The risk?"

"The risk that you'd blow me off as a one-night stand when we were done."

Her mouth dropped. "Is that what you meant when you said you wanted something more important?"

"Of course. As much as I wanted sex, I wanted you more. All of you, not just your body." He sighed. "A bit of a miscalculation. I knew you were capricious. But I never thought you'd run away without even seeing me again."

"And yet, you still came after me."

"I'm determined. If I want something, I go after it. In fact—" He sat up, grabbed his pants from the floor and pulled out his phone. "I have a video to show you."

"A video?" She sat up next to him on the bed. "You're full of surprises today."

He dropped a kiss on her lips. "Just watch, okay?"

He swiped his phone and Hoot appeared on the screen. Hoot wore a pale yellow, v-necked sweater, a pale blue and white checked shirt and a blue and yellow bow tie. He held aloft a sprig of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon. "Kiss him," Hoot said with a big grin. "The man finally got a backbone. He deserves a reward."

"A backbone?" Dakota raised her eyebrows. "Is he implying you're a wuss?"

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