Tingle All the Way (2 page)
In reality he’d given himself more hand
jobs since he met her than when he was a boy hiding beneath the covers at
night. Truthfully, every woman he bedded had Kayla’s face. As their legs
slipped around his waist, he pretended they were her long, shapely ones
surrounding him.
The woman haunted his thoughts too. Yeah.
He had it bad for her.
“They’re usually the most fun to break and
whip
into shape.” Stan playfully waggled his brows.
His friend had an amazing collection of
whips and floggers, and he knew how to use them.
As they watched Kayla, wrinkles furrowed
her forehead. She glared at the small Christmas tree atop her table as if it
were guilty for her near fall. She mumbled something that directed Barry’s
attention to her full, luscious lips. What he’d give to have those beauties
wrapped around his dick. He sucked a tight breath through clenched teeth. He’d
fuck her mouth, then every other orifice.
It didn’t help his arousal when he noted
the buttons of her silk blouse had come undone and the edge of her lacy bra
showed, taunting him.
Stan chuckled, reaching for his beer.
“She’s talking to herself, or singing.” He took a swig.
“She’s drunk.” Kayla swayed again to
confirm Barry’s assessment. With a twist and a wobble, she started toward them.
Stan slapped him on the back. “Well, buddy,
it looks like this is your opportunity to melt a little ice. She forgot her
Christmas tree.”
As she passed them, heading for the exit,
she began to sing, “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.” Her ass
swayed to the rhythm.
Without a second thought, Barry pulled a
twenty out of his pocket and slammed it upon the bar. With a swipe of his hand,
he grabbed his jacket off the barstool. “Later, bro.” He rushed over to where
she had sat and picked up the Christmas tree, spinning around to make haste
toward the exit.
“Good luck,” Stan yelled as Barry pushed
open the door and departed.
The cool night air greeted him as he
quickly scanned the parking lot. The Ice Queen was propped against her white
Lexus trying to insert a key into the door lock. She hadn’t even tried the
unlocking mechanism on the remote controller she held in her hand.
“Dammit,” she cursed.
No way would he allow her to get into her
car and drive. Not in her current state.
“Miss Jones.” He walked to her side and
stopped.
“Huh?” Kayla looked up briefly.
Determination burned in her icy blue eyes before she continued to aim and miss
the lock.
Like everything she did, she did it with
passion. Yet if she continued down this road much longer, she’d have the whole
door scratched.
Barry took a moment to study her. In court,
she led the jury around by their emotions. With just a word she could make them
cry or laugh. She was that good. Much better in court then she was putting a
key in a small hole.
Barry stifled a laugh. “Would you like me
to drive you home?”
Miss Jones glanced up glassy-eyed and
released a puff of air that blew a tendril out of her face. A smile softened
her features. She straightened. “Barry Allred.”
He nodded. “Yep. That’s me. Can I be of
assistance?”
She dangled her key ring before her. “My
key’s broke.”
“Sweetheart, it isn’t your key that’s
broken.”
“Excuse me.” She stiffened.
“I think perhaps you’ve had one too many
martinis.”
“R-ridiculoussss.” She hiccupped, quickly
covering her mouth with her palm.
Damn. The woman was adorable.
Barry took several steps backward. “Let’s
perform a little test. Walk a straight line to me. If you manage it, I’ll open
your car for you. If you fail, you allow me to take you home.”
Miss Jones rolled her eyes toward the
star-studded sky. Her shoulders squared. She beamed with confidence, until she
took the first step and stumbled straight into his arms. He almost lost his
grip on the Christmas tree and his jacket as he caught her with one arm. Slowly
he drew her against his chest.
The smell of a light, powdery perfume sent
his senses reeling. Barry felt the rapid beat of her heart, and the instant
hard-on the woman gave him whenever he was in her presence made itself known.
Her tongue slid between parted lips.
“Perhaps I did have one too many.” She blinked, completely unaware of the chaos
she was creating inside him.
“One?” This time he did laugh. “Baby,
you’re plastered.”
Bright eyes met his. “Maybe you should take
me home.”
Continuing to hold her close, he refused to
release her—at least not yet. He’d dreamed of this moment too many times. “Your
place or mine?” he laughed jokingly. That’s when she passed out in his arms.
“Shit. What am I supposed to do now?”
Briefly leaning down to set the Christmas
tree on the ground, he heaved her into his arms. As he walked toward his
vehicle, he awkwardly reached in his pant pocket and retrieved his keys, giving
his remote control a push to unlock the doors. The lights to his Bimmer burst
across the parking lot and he headed straight for it.
Gently he stood Miss Jones on her feet,
using his body to prop her up against the car. Opening the door, he carefully
slid her inside, tossing his jacket in the backseat. The scent of leather
upholstery blended with her powdery essence.
Moving quickly around the car, he heard
someone yell, “Hey, buddy, did you forget something?” and he screeched to a
halt. The lights of the Christmas tree sitting by Kayla’s car flickered off and
on before they began to twinkle steadily.
Barry looked about, but no one was in the
parking lot. Then who spoke? Brushing off the question, he retraced his steps
and gathered the tree in his arms. In mere seconds he was back in the car,
engine started and wondering what the hell he was going to do now. It seemed as
if his only choice was to take her to his house until she woke up.
He didn’t live far, the drive was only
fifteen minutes. Before he knew it he was home and the Ice Queen lay atop his
bed, still unconscious.
Chapter Two
Kayla woke with a roar in her head. She
attempted to open her eyes, then closed them immediately when shards of light
burst through parted curtains. Still, she didn’t need sight to know something
was off, especially since she wore only a bra and thong and not her comfortable
jammies.
A masculine scent made her jackknife into a
sitting position. Vertigo struck with a vengeance. The room spun and her head
felt like a globe rotating on its axis as a wave of nausea rose, forcing her
back down. Taking slow, deep breaths, she fought to calm the bitter acid rising
in her throat.
When she once again had a hold of herself,
Kayla opened her eyes. “Where am I?” Glancing around the strange bedroom, she
began to reconstruct her evening.
Courtroom and win.
A couple of assholes ruining her day.
O’Malley’s, a faery, and too many martinis.
That was it! She’d been at O’Malley’s
celebrating and getting her drink on, or was she crying in her drink?
“So how did I get here? What happened?” she
whispered to herself.
“
Bow chica bow wow.
”
Her startled gaze snapped in the direction
of the randy reply.
Lo and behold, her imaginary faery lay on
his side in the middle of a big, fluffy pillow next to her. Hector’s right
elbow was bent. His palm supported his head as he stared at her with a
shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
“You turned his world inside out.”
Oh, thank goodness. If her apparition still
existed, Kayla knew she wasn’t awake, or maybe that she wasn’t sober. Yet by
the throb in her head, it sure felt as if she suffered from a hangover. She had
dry mouth, an explosive stomach, and the last remnant of beer-goggles blurring
her vision. The good news was that wherever she was or whatever she did really
didn’t matter. It was only her imagination.
Still, she had to ask. “His? Who?”
Hector rolled on to his back, kicking his
legs and flailing his arms. “Oh, Barry, do it to me. Harder. Faster.”
Kayla chuckled at the silly exhibition.
“Barry Allred?”
It must have been her subconscious
revealing the fact she’d give her eyeteeth to have one night with him. And then
her laughter died a quick death as more of the evening’s events began to flood
her memories. She recalled seeing him sitting at the bar with another man at
O’Malley’s.
Had they spoken?
“Nah. It’s impossible.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
They had spoken. The scene of him standing
beside her car tore through her memory. Red-hot embarrassment scorched her
face. Panic tightened her chest. “I didn’t. We couldn’t have.”
“Oh yeah. It’s possible and you did.”
Hector fanned himself with his hand. “Turned that man’s world upside down.
Asked him to tie you up and spank you.”
Kayla swallowed hard.
No. No. No.
She would never have lived out one of her
fantasies, much less spoken about it, to a stranger. Just the thought mortified
her. Then again, if this was a dream, what did it matter? She leaned back
against the softness of the pillow and blew out a breath of relief. It had to
be a dream—faeries weren’t real.
“But the one that got me hot and bothered.”
Hector sat up on the pillow with his tiny legs splayed wide. Before he
continued to speak, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the downy
softness, his palms cradling his cheeks. “Was when you told him about your
fantasy to have two men at once.”
Kayla gasped on a new chunk of humiliation.
“I didn’t,” she shrieked. “I would never
reveal that dark secret to anyone.” Especially Barry, a man she debated with
across tables…and then there was that thing between her and his father.
Dammit. She kept forgetting this was a
dream. Any minute now she’d awake in her bed and everything would be as it
should be.
Hector stood, stretching his wings and
bending his legs before he lunged forward. In a flash, he was soaring around
the room, a trail of dark-green dust following him. When he landed on the tip
of her nose, she raised a hand to swat him.
“Ah-ah-ah.” He began to pull something from
his pocket.
As magic—or insanity—would have it, the
item just kept coming. The long, thin staff was obviously longer then the
shallow pocket housing it.
“If you were dreaming, do you think you’d
feel this?” Hector stabbed the thing into her nose.
Kayla jumped. Her eyes crisscrossed as she
glared at the three-inch man now hovering just above her nose. At a closer
look, the stick he held appeared to be a pine needle, and he had it pointed at
her.
“
En garde!
” He placed a hand behind
his back and jabbed the damn thing at her, over and over.
This time she swiftly brushed her hand
through the air, missing him when he darted aside, leaving a trail of bright,
angry, red glitter in his wake.
“Who are you?” she growled.
“I’m your Christmas faery. I’m here to bring
you holiday cheer.”
“Holiday cheer? Are you kidding me? What
you’ve done is make me question my sanity. I must be going out of my friggin’—”
“
Shhh…
” Hector said as he flew
straight at her. On his way, he retrieved that errant lock of hair that
continually insisted on coming free from her bun. A wisp of air fanned her face
as he swept the blonde strand back, pinning it and him in her hair as if he
were a barrette.
Before she could reach up and dislodge the
irritating little man, the bathroom door opened and Barry strolled out. Naked.
Well, except for the towel wrapped low around his hips.
“You’re awake.”
The prosecutor had a beautiful smile and
deep dimples that sent tingles up her spine. His wet black hair was swept back
in a finger-combed kind of way. But it was his bare chest—broad and
muscular—that caught her eye and held her in awe.
The man really was a magnificent specimen.
Although it was clear he had shaved, a shadow still remained on his jaw. His
eyes were dark blue, hiding a hint of brooding and mystery.
The reality of the moment crawled across
her skin. “Are you real?” she asked hesitantly.
“I like to think I am.” He grinned.
Holy shit!
A sinking feeling made her want to die.
This wasn’t a dream. Barry Allred stood before her while she lay on what
appeared to be his bed. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was losing
her mind. Hector must be her version of Jiminy Cricket, her subconscious taking
form. But even that explanation made her ill.
Barry took a step in her direction. “You
feeling okay?”
Kayla licked dry lips. “Uh. Yes.” She
sounded as if she had a mouthful of cotton. Not to mention her stomach felt as
if an atom bomb had exploded inside it. And to top it off, she was going
stark-raving mad.
