Secret Santa Baby Page 2

  “Nick, you’re missing the point.” Damien bolted upright, his hands gesturing wildly. “We’re going to make so much money that the question isn’t whether you need a new car. It’s all about wanting.”

  Oh, he knew all about the wanting. It wasn’t a car he was aiming for.

  Shaking his head, Nick pawed over his desktop looking for the proposed release schedule for the next year. He’d gotten together with his design team and figured out how long it would take their next idea to come to life. Damien would take that data and work his business magic.

  “Did you get in touch with Lassiter?” Damien asked.

  “Yep. He wanted a graphic designer referral. I gave him Tessa’s name.”

  “Buddy.”

  “I know, I know.” Nick grabbed the mini-basketball sitting on his desk, tossing it in the air as he remembered the conversation. He hadn’t hesitated to offer up her name—she was hands down the best designer they had—but he knew how she’d react if she found out. “Tessa doesn’t want us to help her with her new company, but she wouldn’t turn down good work.”

  “I’m not so sure. She’s hung up on thinking people believe we gave her a job because we were dating.”

  “She’s good and her portfolio speaks for itself. Lassiter won’t hire her if she isn’t any good.”

  “So, who’s Tessa’s Secret Santa?” Damien jumped off the sofa as fast as his topic change.

  Nick caught the ball in midair, surprised by the question. “I’m not going to tell you that.”

  “Come on, St. Nick. You gotta spill.”

  Nick groaned low in his throat, watching as Damien did his usual hyper-pacing thing across his floor. He wanted to tell his friend the truth. He told Damien everything—well, everything mates told each other—and for the millionth time, Nick considered telling him how he felt about Tessa. Damien was so much better at this romance stuff and he could make sure it didn’t flop.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Damien paused, glanced at the open door, shutting it before answering. “I think I made a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” Whoa. Nick searched his brain for any error Damien could have made about work. “I don’t understand.”

  “Tessa. I think I made a mistake about Tessa.”

  Bloody hell.

  The creep of icy cold apprehension first started in his belly and traveled upwards until it prickled his scalp. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see the train wreck headed in his direction.

  “I did the wrong thing…” Oblivious to his agony, Damien continued, the earnestness in his voice forcing Nick to look at his friend who now sat on the sofa, his posture one of utter dejection. “…breaking it off with Tessa.”

  “But you said you were okay with it. You said that the two of you were just having fun and needed to move on.” Nick knew he sounded a little desperate.

  “I know. But, what if it was more than fun? What if she’s the woman I’m supposed to settle down with?”

  “Do you want to settle down?” Nick worked hard to keep the disbelief out of his voice, but he’d never even heard the word “commitment” from Damien’s lips. This was crazy.

  “Yes. No. That’s not the point!”

  “Well, then what is the point?” It was Nick’s turn to get up and pace. He couldn’t stay in one spot with his heart racing and his gut in knots. This was a bloody nightmare.

  “The point is that some loser is trying to get in her pants by buying her a bunch of cheesy gifts based upon a song, and that’s just wrong on so many levels.”

  “It’s wrong that someone else wants to be with her? Because—?” Nick asked.

  Damien huffed out a frustrated sound, clearly unhappy that he wasn’t getting his point. “Because Tessa and I were going to get back together one day.”

  “Really? When?”

  “I don’t know…later.”

  “And that time is now?” Nick was starting to get the picture. He’d bet the Crown Jewels that Damien didn’t want Tessa back, but he sure as hell didn’t want anyone else to have her. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he could be a little self-centered at times.

  So much for getting his help with the Secret Santa plan.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get her back.” Damien sounded confident that he would succeed. Nick wasn’t so sure. His impression was that Tessa had moved on.

  He sure wasn’t going to tell Damien his plans now. St. Nick would have spilled his guts in the name of fair play, but the new, improved, rule-breaking Nick was keeping his mouth shut. He wasn’t as suave or outgoing as Damien, but he was sincere and clever. He hoped it would be enough. Ultimately, the decision would be Tessa’s. If she didn’t care about him, then no amount of gifts would win her over, but he wanted his chance.

  “Tell whoever this is to back off,” Damien said. He clearly thought it was the logical solution.

  “No.” Nick leaned against the edge of his desk. He couldn’t miss the look of surprise on Damien’s face. “If you want Tessa back, then you’ll have to do it with a little competition.”

  “Is that right? Fine, but we both know how it’s gonna turn out.” Damien tossed the basketball over his shoulder as he stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

  Nick leaned back in his chair, the groan escaping and releasing a little of his frustration. He grabbed the basketball from the floor.

  This didn’t change anything.

  He’d failed to act the last time he had a chance with Tessa, and his feelings had never changed. Making a shot, he watched as the basketball swooshed through the net on the back of his door. He grinned, wondering if he looked as devilish as he felt.

  “May the best man win.”

  Chapter Three

  The smell of warm sugar and vanilla made him want to lean over and bury his face in Tessa’s hair. She’d made sugar cookies for their weekly terrible TV night, and the warm, sexy scent clung to her skin, hair, and clothes. This was what heaven would smell like, and the angel sitting next to him made him wonder if he’d died and didn’t know it yet.

  “Is this terrible enough?” she asked.

  “It’s in the top ten. But at least you didn’t pick the holiday edition of that awful show that pays people for the most disturbing home video of them making asses of themselves.”

  “You know you want to submit a video. Admit it.” She laughed, poking him in the side until he also barked out a chuckle.

  “If I ever do anything worthy of a submission to that show, please shoot me on the spot,” he said.

  Luckily, tonight’s selection wasn’t so bad. It was Tessa’s choice and she’d picked a Heather Locklear and John Stamos Christmas movie from the cable channel he mentally called the “men-should-be-shot” network. It aired endless days of programming where all the women had crazy second husbands who tried to kill them for their money. His first reaction to her choice had been “not bloody likely,” but it turned out to be tolerable. Heather Locklear was pretty hot. Tessa was hotter.

  He raised the beer bottle to his lips and sneaked a look at the woman snuggled next to him on the couch. The firelight combined with the Christmas tree lights to cast a warm glow on the blond curls that swept up and tumbled down her back. Her sweatpants were decorated with a Christmas tree pattern, and her bare toes had little matching trees painted on the nails. But it was the red T-shirt stretched across her full and unencumbered breasts that had him gobsmacked.

  He wondered if she’d freak out if he fell at her feet and begged for a taste of her sweetness.

  She glanced over and caught him staring. Her nose scrunched up in the way that made him want to plant a kiss on the little furrow between her eyebrows. He had it so bad.

  “Do I look all right?”

  “You look…amazing.” Nick gave himself a mental bitch slap and adjusted his jeans over the erection now pressing against his zipper. Tessa looked down at her lap and he wasn’t sure if the pink in her ch
eeks was from the compliment or the warmth of the fire. The atmosphere tonight was different. Poignant. Charged with electricity

  His left side was on fire where she leaned against him under the blanket. The evening had been filled with the little touches typical in easy, comfortable friendships, but tonight Tessa’s light brushes and firm presses were deliberate and with purpose. Nick would have given a body part to know what signal she was sending. He couldn’t trust that his wishful thinking wasn’t clouding his judgment.

  “I got two more gifts from my Secret Santa.” Tessa’s voice drifted up from the place where she nestled against his shoulder. She yawned and snuggled closer.

  “Hmm?” Nick hoped she didn’t feel the kick-start of his heart at her words. He didn’t want to give away his surprise until the Christmas party.

  “Yep. This awesome blanket. It’s faux sable. Straight out of verse one. The note told me it would keep me warm on long winter nights.” She petted the object resting across their laps. “And they donated the two-hundred dollars my kids need for supplies at the arts program.” Her voice lit up with the joy she always displayed when she talked about the after-school arts program she ran at a local shelter. Her students loved her. “The note for this one said that I shouldn’t expect the duplex from the fifth verse, but they hoped the check part was okay.”

  “Brilliant! That was the last of the funds you needed for the program, right?”

  “Yes. And with all of the extra donations coming in for the holidays, we have enough for the next semester.”

  Nick hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her hair. This felt so right. He couldn’t resist pulling her nearer, wondering if he should forego his plans to wait until the party to take their friendship further. His body was hard with wanting her, her softness yielding to the rough caress of his hand. The silky skin of her arm, the rounded lushness of her hip, the fullness of the side of her breast, all combining into sensory overload.

  Her hands were busy as well. The contact of her small hand against the part of his abdomen exposed by the upward shift of his shirt branded him with her warmth. He was on fire. He could barely take a breath, his heart hammering in his chest and echoing in the throb in his cock. The blanket covering them was suddenly stifling.

  As if she read his mind, Tessa pulled off the coverlet and flung it to the carpet. Nick looked down into her face. He had to see her eyes to have any chance of knowing how to read this. He wanted it much too badly to trust the thoughts bouncing around his head like a pinball machine. He wasn’t disappointed.

  Tessa’s eyes were so dominated by her blown pupils they appeared black. Her pale skin was flushed pink with her excitement. Her lips were plumper, fuller, and begging for his kiss. She was gorgeous.

  Slow. Slow. Nick ignored the cautionary chant reverberating in his mind and dove in for the kiss he’d waited years to taste. Tessa met him halfway, and the warm, wet collision of their mouths set off sparks under his skin. Heat flowed in his veins, disintegrating a lifetime of British reserve. He took her mouth like an explorer sent to find his homeland and claim it for his own. Bone deep, Nick knew he’d only be satisfied with claiming all of her.

  Tessa was clutching at him, her fingers winding through his hair and dragging him back to her with every brief separation required to breathe. She tasted like the sugar of the cookies and the spice that had to be the essence of the vibrant woman in his arms.

  Nick lifted her over him, settling her astride his lap. He wove his hands in her hair, tugging her back far enough to get a thorough, satisfying look at the mouth-watering fantasy he finally got to touch, caress, and taste. He lowered his hands, following the path of his eyes—kneading her thighs, spanning her waist, skimming the taut peak of her breasts.

  Tessa gasped, her chest pushing into his hand as he toyed with her nipples through the fabric of her T-shirt.

  “Sensitive. I’ll enjoy teasing them with my mouth.” He leaned up to nip at her lips, licking them to soothe the burn. “Damn, you taste good.”

  “God, that mouth,” Tessa murmured into the kiss, taking her own turn to pull his tongue into her mouth. “I thought about it.”

  She gasped when he nibbled down her neck, noting the sensitive spot for later. It would be such fun to explore this woman. He had all night.

  “You thought about…?” He was dying to know if she’d spent nights thinking of him.

  “I thought about you.”

  “At night?”

  “Yes. All the time.”

  “Good.” He rolled a nipple between his fingers, loving the way it hardened even more under his touch.

  A deep moan vibrated in her chest and connected directly to the Neanderthal switch in his brain. Without even thinking, he lowered her hand from his chest and pressed it against his groin, needing her to feel how much he wanted her.

  “Bloody—” He shoved up into the searching clasp of her tightening fingers. The layer of denim did nothing to dampen his reaction her touch. He was on a short fuse, but he didn’t care. This was primal. This was truth.

  Eyes locked on hers, he spoke the words he’d been dying to say for years. “I want you.”

  Once spoken, it was the most natural, the most right thing he’d ever said. How could he ever have doubted that this was where he needed to be? No one could satisfy him like Tessa. No woman turned him on like Tessa.

  “I want you too.”

  Nick didn’t need an engraved invitation. Kissing her deeply, he slid his hands under her ass and stood while she wrapped her legs and arms around his body. Turning towards her bedroom, he barely registered the sound at the door.

  Someone was knocking at the door.

  Tessa froze against him, her entire body going from soft and pliant to rigid in two seconds. He was about to convince her to ignore it when he heard the one voice he knew was destined to ruin this night for him.

  “Tessa, let me in! It’s Damien!”

  Chapter Four

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Tessa let go of Nick, sliding down his body until her feet touched ground. He still held on to her, his body hard and ready against her stomach, and she pressed against him involuntarily. She did not want to answer the door and deal with Damien, not when she had Nick holding her tight with naked hunger in his eyes. They’d been steps from her bedroom, which—hallelujah—was fully stocked with condoms. She’d even stashed a couple under the tree skirt just in case…

  The knock, followed by Damien’s plea to open the door, broke through her lust-induced stupor. Frustration bubbled up from her gut and and threatened to let loose through a primal scream that would wake all of her neighbors. Tessa gripped his hands and eased them off her hips, hoping that the regret at this interruption was evident even without the words. Nick’s face was resigned as he took a step back, allowing her to head for the door.

  “Coming!” Unlocking the door, she flung it open, catching Damien as he fell through the door. Taking a good sniff, alcohol wafted off him like he’d rolled on the floor of a brewery. She hoped to God he hadn’t been driving.

  Nick was there in a second, hefting Damien across the floor and tossing him onto the sofa. He stood over their friend, his glare hot enough to dry him out.

  “Damien, are you pissed?”

  “I think so.” Damien sat up, listing to the left a little as he spoke to the space to Nick’s right.

  Nick squatted down in front of him. “Mate, I’m the one in the middle.”

  Tessa laughed in spite of the nightmare that had taken over what was promising to be the best night of her life. Yeah, she needed a cold shower to ease the bone-deep ache, but at least she knew Nick was interested in her in that way. And now that she knew she wasn’t going to let him forget it.

  Damien leaned over again and fell into a heap on her sofa, snoring almost before his head hit cushion.

  “I don’t think we’ll be pouring him into a cab and sending him home,” Nick said in a voice layered with many levels of forlorn and irri
tation. She knew the feeling.

  “That’s what I get for living downtown near the bars. It won’t be the first time he’s slept it off on my sofa. I’ll get some blankets.”

  Tessa returned quickly, draped the blanket over the sleeping form, removed his shoes, and turned off the table lamp. Damien looked childlike in the light of the Christmas tree. It was a rare thing to see him still for any length of time. “He always looks like such a kid when he’s sleeping—or passed out.”

  “He’s always so busy playing the big businessman that when he lets off some steam he goes big.” Nick observed her from the other side of the room. His words were clipped and precise, so unlike the syrupy talk of her almost-lover moments before. She knew without asking that he wasn’t staying.

  “No kidding.” She debated taking the two or three steps necessary to close the gap between them, but insecurity curled in her gut and rooted her in place. What had been hot and passionate was now awkward. Who would’ve thought that your ex-boyfriend passing out on your couch would be such a mood killer?

  “Is Damien my Secret Santa?”

  “Do you want him to be?” Nick’s tone was even, in spite of the rough way he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. The muscles in his shoulders, so hot and supple under her hands a few moments ago, were tense and gave him a hunched, defensive posture. Did he regret what they had done? Was he glad Damien had interrupted what was clearly a moment of hormone-induced insanity?

  “I—”

  Damien settling in on the couch cut off her reply. He was going to hurt in the morning. Looking back at Nick, she was surprised he was putting on his coat by the door.

  “Are you leaving?”

  “Yeah. Early morning and late night tomorrow with the Christmas party. I should go.” He avoided her eyes, but as Nick grabbed the doorknob, he stopped and turned to face her. His expression was indecipherable, and Tessa couldn’t tell if he was angry, frustrated, or just relieved to get the hell out of there. “I had a good time.”