My Hot Holiday

MY HOT HOLIDAY

By Kate Crown

Published by CMH Publishing

Copyright 2012 Kate Crown

Kindle Edition

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1: The Meeting
 

Chapter 2: Family Drama
 

Chapter 3: Game Time
 

Chapter 4: Letting Go
 

Chapter 5: Bliss
 

Part 2Preview
 

Chapter 1: The Meeting
 

The only thing worse than driving through a blinding snow storm on Christmas Eve is doing it alone.

Well, that’s exactly where I’ve ended up.  I, Jillian Reece, am divorced, alone, and white-knuckling every inch of the drive to Oyster Cove, just a stone’s throw from Cape Cod.  You see, my two adorable children are spending their first Christmas with their father and his gorgeous (albeit silicone and collagen-enhanced) 24-year old new wife.  I, on the other hand, am headed to my parents’ house to drown my sorrows.

The only good part of this treacherous drive is stopping off at my favorite bookstore and catching a glimpse of the handsome man behind the counter.  I’ve sauntered into Jake’s Books four times over the past three months.  I can’t help but wonder if
Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome
realized I came in for a view of more than the bounded books.

Okay.  Don't freak out.  It's only a handsome man who owns a silly bookstore.  I mean, he's not even going to notice me, right?

I stare out of my Toyota's icy windshield at the glow of lights inside Jake’s Book’s, willing myself to open the car door and walk through the snow into the land of
Mr. Beautiful
.  “He's only a guy, and he's probably already got a girlfriend,” I tell myself for the thousandth time.  I close my eyes and start mentally rehearsing my casual walk through the door.  The door will chime.  I'll look seductively over my shoulder and beeline it to the last-minute Christmas gifts.  I can do this!

I open my eyes and spot the digits lighting up the dashboard.  Rats!  5:55!  Five minutes till closing!  As my fingers hit the door handle, I remember to take a deep breath.  I can do this!

I step meticulously across the sidewalk, trying to avoid getting snow in my worn-out, black Manolo heels.  It isn't easy, since the walkway is about a half-hour from requiring a good shoveling.  I reach gaily for the door handle, but my fingers don't quite squeeze the frigid steel.  They remain clutched around it while my mind is overwhelmed by my fantasy.  I'm sure you can guess what it is by now.  
Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome
runs his hands through my snow-dusted hair, and his mouth warms my lips with the deepest kiss that most of us divorcees believe can only take place in movies.  I know my fantasy sounds far-fetched, but after the break up I just went through, it's been my little slice of emotional cake.  Nearly two years have passed since I’ve been close enough to feel the hardness of a man's arousal.  My husband saved all of that for the twenty-somethings he met during his "business trips.”

A smile is plastered across my face as I squeeze the metal and step through door, and then I feel it.  My smile withers and then disappears.  Something has grabbed me by the throat and won't let me swallow.  I think it could be panic.  That's because
Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome
isn't behind the register.  He's been replaced.  Yep.  Possibly the hottest guy I've laid eyes on in years is greeting me with a cheery "Merry Christmas."  This is disastrous.
Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome
is just what the doctor ordered!

“Breathe!” I scream internally.  I hastily pull the tail of my wool coat from the door jamb and try to muster a poised smile.  I steal a look at the stunning stranger and focus on balancing my jumbled self.  This is not normal for me.  You see, as a writer, book stores are comforting, like a shoe store must be for a reality TV housewife.  But, this fine specimen of a man has evoked a very different emotion in me...  He's the type I avoid eye contact with on the sidewalk or inside the elevator, so I don't have to face the fact that I'm not 25 and fun anymore.  I mean, I'm not exactly a lost cause, but let's just say I've had two annual checkups since my last lingerie purchase.

I take a deep breath and force myself to focus calmly on responding to this tall drink of steaming hot water.

"Merry Christmas to you, as well," I reply.

“See, it wasn't that hard,” I tell myself as I work to straighten my spine.  I raise my posture with every step to the very back of the store, where all the picked over holiday gifts are piled into a heap.  I scan the mess of books and kids games and begin randomly grabbing items, shoveling them under my arms.

There’s “
7 Habits of Highly Effective People”
for Dad, “
Remodeling for Your Home
” for Mom, and board games for my five nieces and nephews.  I sneak a peek at my very own gorgeous stocking stuffer at the counter and wonder what he's doing in this book store on Christmas Eve?  For Heaven’s sake, he looks more like the Governor than a cashier at a 900-square foot book store in Oyster Cove.

Uh oh.  He spotted me staring...okay, drooling over him...and now he's walking over to me!  Shit!

"Can I help you with something?"

My arms ache with the weight of the growing gift collection sliding from my limbs.  And I sense a rush of heat between my legs that hasn't emerged since last month -- under the covers -- alone -- visions of a shirtless
Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome
aren't far from my sheets.  Whoaaa...

Back to the issue at hand.  SPEAK!  Say something!

"Yes, I'm actually trying to find some...ummm...last minute gifts."

"I can see that.  Are you missing anyone?  Maybe I can help?"

God, he smells as good as he looks.

"Oh, thank you.  I'm fine.  I’m sure you are about to close, aren't you?  I will hurry up and get out of your way."

"No.  You aren't someone who I want to push out my door," he said confidently, while glancing down at my left hand.

OH.  MY.  GAWD!  Did HE just say that to ME?

His eyes leave my barren ring finger, trail across my chest, and land squarely back on my baby blues.  I hold his glance for a long time, until he looks over my shoulder and reaches to straighten a few items behind my head.  I close my eyes as the smell of his skin becomes a gateway to my fantasy.  Mr. CEO clears the book shelves with the clean swoop of his arm and lays me down and we have hot, raw sex.

Firmly I tell myself to get it together - and take a big breath.  Then, in one seamless, unplanned movement, my hand reaches out and grasps his bicep, which is even firmer than I imagined.

I stare into his eyes for a few seconds, not quite able to believe what I've just done.  What did I do that for?

Then, Mr. CEO’s eyes glance down at my arm that now springs back to my body like a rubber band.  AWKWARD.

He seems unphased.  Everything about this man suggests power and importance, and yet there is something appealing about him too, something young and good.

"Besides, I rarely get to visit my bookstores."

I'm flushed...red...heart palpitating, as my body begins sizzling enough to melt all that snow outside.

“You own Jake's Books?  I thought the other guy who is always at the counter owned this store?"

“You know the one I've fantasized about for the past 6 months?” I thought.

His lip curls with what I sense is a touch of humor and flirtation as I wait on his response.  His eyes demand that mine meet his...as he follows them up and down, while I try to escape his stare.

"Close.  That's my little brother.  I'm Jake...Jake Sterns," he says with a commanding voice.

There was a softness about him that confused me, a kindness; a sort of compassion that I've become convinced doesn't exist in men of power.

"I decided it was more important that my employees and family spend time with their spouses and extended families.  I don't have anyone waiting under the mistletoe for me tonight, anyway.  At least, not yet..." his voice trails off.

Suddenly, my anxiety becomes obvious as the mountain of gifts in my left arm starts to crumble.  One by one the books fall like an avalanche.  I feel woozy with shock and embarrassment.

"I'm so, so, sorry..." I mutter as I try to catch the falling pieces.

"Oh God!  I'm terribly sorry."  My voice is slightly higher than usual, and I watch Mr. CEO reaching like a juggler for each book.

Can the floor suddenly open and become my escape from this disastrous reality?

As he retrieves the books and begins to stack them on the small table in front of us, I stare at him in silence, feeling mortification hitting me hard.  My throat's tight, and there's a burning sensation growing just below my collarbone.

For the first time in my life, I feel drawn to a perfect stranger and am willing to act on it.

I lean down to pick up the last of the mess and as I slowly rise, I smell him before I feel him.  Before I can utter a word I feel strong hands on each of my hips.  My eyes close as I drink in the moment, the feel of his warm body...

"I think I just found my Christmas gift..." his deep voice whispers into my ear.

I swallow hard, feeling nauseous with desire.  This can NOT be happening!

I feel my insides shake as I try to resuscitate myself. I bite down on my lip and try to respond...

"You..uh...did?"

REAL NICE, Jillian...THAT’S your answer?

With a low sound of approval rumbling in his throat, he forcefully moves the two of us against the bookcase.  All of my attention is locked on following this man on his mission.  His hot lips match the heat of his hands that are beginning to lift my shirt and fidget with the clasp on my pants.

"I sense that you want this, Jillian," he says, pulling me so close to him that I almost feel like a part of him.  He is about as dominating as they come.  Animal instinct takes over.

His strong-handed finesse makes my head spin, but not as much as the seductiveness of his wet lips.  He is kissing me furiously now, and I can feel the tingle from his stubble on my lips and tongue.

His mouth leaves mine and I can feel his hot breath on my neck, licking my skin and yanking me closer.  With one clean swoop, he kicks the books off the table in front of us and leaving the bookcase behind, he blazes a path to the table, pushing me firmly against it.  My cheeks burn with desirable sensation.

"I need to unwrap my Christmas gift..." he demands.

I tug at my wrists, more concerned than ever that I am making the biggest mistake of my life.  But somehow his power over me becomes intoxicating, only making me more drawn to him.  My breath falls roughly, with only little gasps of air escaping that reveal exactly how he is affecting me.

His mouth is firm, yet gentle in a way I hadn't expected.  His lips move slowly, coaxing my own to move in response.  His hold on my wrists loosens, his fingers softening, shimmying down the length of my arms...grazing the sides of my breasts.

This can't be happening...

One of his hands slips around my neck, tilting my face higher.  His other hand drags a hot trail down my throat.  His thumb must be able to feel the pulse that's vibrating through my body.  Then, I realize it isn’t just passion causing me to vibrate.

"Jillian?"  The sudden and unexpected voice ripped through my haze of lust.  I blink and struggle to sit up.  Aren't we alone?  Who is calling my name?

"Jillian, are you there?" the familiar voice says.

Jake's head lifts with a jerk.  Then, it hit me.  My cell phone!  I had shoved it in my back pocket while trying to juggle the presents and I must have pocket dialed.

NOOOOOO!  Not NOW!!!

Jake follows my stare to the illuminated smartphone that I had pulled from beneath my perspiring body.  I feel judgment oozing from Mom's face, which is displayed across the screen.  Who thought preprogrammed pictures of your contacts were a good idea?

My lips still tingling, I squeeze out from beneath Jake.  Fortunately, he makes no move to stop me.  I rapidly hit the "END" button on the phone and shut off that unfortunate line of mistimed communication.