Christmas Break Read online

  “So, tell me, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” I sat back and rubbed my full gut, one hunger sated but another growing stronger by the minute.

  “Seriously? Don’t you have a better line than that?” Aubrey snorted—a very unladylike snort. I liked it. I also liked how she actually ate her burger instead of picking at a piece of wilted lettuce like most girls her age.

  “Sure, but I’m just getting warmed up.”

  She giggled, and I didn’t peg her for a giggler. The satisfaction from making her laugh again warmed me.

  “Are you a football fan, Aubrey?” I wasn’t just making small talk, either. I wanted to know. In fact, I wanted to know everything about her. I wasn’t sure why, but I did.

  “Somewhat. Like, I know that when a blitz is on, you have a bad habit of forcing the ball where you want it to go instead of being patient and looking for the open option.”

  I shrugged and held my hands out, palms up. “What can I say, I’m stubborn.”

  “And you have a temper tantrum when you throw an interception.”

  “Now that’s harsh.”

  “I’m a tough girl, remember?”

  “On the outside. On the inside, I think you’re a marshmallow.”

  She rolled her eyes again. She’d been doing that a lot. “I think you need to leave the psychology to the shrinks.”

  “Ah, but perhaps telling a stranger what’s going on is the best way to get it off your mind.” I had this overwhelming urge to know all her secrets, like why she’d been sitting on the floor crying.

  “Maybe another time.”

  “So there’s going to be another time?” Seeing her again appealed to me in a big way.

  She didn’t answer, just finished her burger and started on her fries after dumping half a ketchup bottle on them. Finally she lifted her gaze to mine. “Are you asking me out?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve heard stories. You’re a campus legend.” She nibbled on a fry. Her luscious red lips closed around it as she bit off little pieces and chewed. Holy shit, my dirty mind compiled film of all sorts of uses for those lips.

  “A good legend or a bad legend?” I swallowed as she picked up another fry and repeated the process. A dab of ketchup colored one corner of her mouth, mesmerizing me.

  “Depends on who you talk to.” She frowned. “Do I have food on my face or something?”

  “Uh, yeah. Let me take care of it.”

  Before she could stop me, I reached out and wiped the ketchup off her mouth with the pad of my thumb, a weirdly erotic act. Holding up my thumb, I licked it, watching her face the entire time.

  She cleared her throat, and her lips parted. Her little pink tongue darted out and she ran it around her lips. I thought I would die right then and there. My dick hardened and pressed against my now too-tight jeans.

  “So, are you a good boy or bad boy?” She averted her eyes, revealing a dash of shyness to go with that attitude.

  “I’m as good or bad as you want me to be, tough girl.” She’d walked into that one.

  Instead of being embarrassed, she laughed. She lifted her head, the shyness gone. Her green eyes flashed with mischief and she said, “Then I might join you for dinner. I could close the bar tomorrow night at five. Think we can find a place that’s open?”

  “I’m sure of it. Lots of people eat out on Christmas Eve. You’d be shocked.”

  “Not much shocks me,” she said, sadness briefly dulling her eyes.

  There was a story behind her sorrow, and I was determined to read that book. “You know,” I said, “I like you. You’re fun to talk to, and you have spunk.”

  “I like you, too, even if your ego is bigger than your—”

  “I can assure you, it’s not.” I winked and blew her a kiss.

  She raised her gaze heavenward and sighed. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I’m unique,” I countered. “So, I’ll pick you up around five?” When she hesitated, I sweetened the pot. “I’m buying. You can’t beat an offer like that, especially considering the awesome company.”

  “I’m sure I can’t.” She looked like she might say more but glanced toward the door as a few patrons rushed inside, covered with snow and shivering. Tossing a sassy smile over her shoulder at me, she headed toward her new customers.

  I finished off my beer and fries, left money on the bar, stood and sauntered toward the exit. “See you tomorrow night, sweetheart,” I called. “I guarantee it’ll be a Christmas Eve you won’t forget.”

  “Neither will you,” she shot back.

  I was counting on it. In fact, I expected it to be nothing short of epic.

  Chapter 4

  Night before Christmas

  Aubrey

  I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. I spilt an entire beer—at least I missed the customer’s lap—messed up two orders, and just plain forgot a third. You’d think I was a pimply-faced, nerdy girl waiting for the most popular guy in high school to pick me up for my first date. Well, in some ways I guess it was just like that.

  Brax would be here any minute. I slipped into the bathroom to check my hair and lipstick then came back out. Approaching the bar’s last customers, a table of guys in the corner, I did a last call, warning them for a third time that we’d be closing early. They gave me blank stares and went back to their conversation.

  I rang them up anyway and slapped the bill on their table with a whack to call attention to it, giving them my best don’t-fuck-with-me scowl. One of them dug in his pocket and tossed some bills and change on the table. He smirked at his buddies and mouthed the word bitch. Together, they strutted out the door into the dark, snowy evening.

  I gave them the finger to their backs and scooped up the cash, took it behind the bar, and counted out the change. The cheap bastards left me a fifty-cent tip.

  The door opened again. It was him. Brax. He stomped the snow off his booted feet and brushed it from his blue parka. Lifting his gaze, he met my eyes and that slow sexy smile spread across his outrageously handsome face. He slung his parka over one broad shoulder, and his long confident stride carried him across the room. My heart beat louder with every step.

  His gaze ran up and down my body. He whistled. “You look hot. Really hot.”

  “Do I? Apron and all?” I grinned. I’d chosen this sweaterdress because it accentuated my curves and hid my tattoos, which covered way too much of my body. I’d gotten them at a low point in my life, and now they were a constant reminder of bad times I’d rather forget.

  “The apron adds a nice touch.” Brax slid his fine butt onto a barstool. “Almost ready? I’m hungrier than my entire offensive line.”

  I nodded and took off my apron, noticing his expensive-looking sweater and tailored slacks. No thrift-store clothes for this guy.

  His smile stole the words from my mouth. I poured a beer for him and placed it on the counter, and he snagged my hand with his. Despite his chilled skin, heat pulsed through my bloodstream, straight to my heart and parts slightly lower.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this.” He winked at me, and I wanted to crawl into his lap like a purring kitten.

  “Me, too,” I admitted. “Let me get my coat and I’ll be ready.”

  About fifteen minutes later we were sitting in a cozy corner near a roaring fireplace in a surprisingly crowded bistro. Judging by the age of the majority of the patrons, this wasn’t your typical college hangout, not to mention the menu had unpronounceable French dishes and no prices. I’d never been to a place like this, let alone on a date. My past dates had consisted of the backseat of some guy’s beat-up car, a biker bar, and a kegger.

  Through lowered lashes I glanced at Brax to see if he appeared as uncomfortable as I was. He studied the menu like he could actually read it. A lock of tousled brown hair fell across his forehead. Without thinking, I lifted my hand and brushed it away.

  He looked up, his intense gaze in direct conflict with his lighth
earted grin. Our eyes locked, and he sucked me into his spell, deep into the vortex of a world foreign to the one I’d grown up in. I wanted to stay that world for as long as I could, even though it might only be a short while.

  “I don’t speak French, and this menu doesn’t speak English,” I said.

  He didn’t grimace at me like I was some uncouth backwards chick. Instead, he nodded. “What do you like to eat?”

  “Chicken. I like chicken.”

  “They have just the thing. Trust me?”

  I shrugged. I never trusted anyone. Not since Mom died.

  His smile faded briefly, as if he read my mind. His eyes searched mine and he said, “Whoever he was, I can make you forget him.” Then he flashed his dazzling smile, as if that would heal what ailed me.

  Actually, it did. A little.

  “It wasn’t a guy. Not exactly.”

  His eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “Not a guy?”

  “It’s not like that.” I kicked him under the table and he grimaced.

  “I’m glad. You scared me for a minute. Thought you might be scamming me for a free meal.”

  “You think I’m not?” I teased right back, glad to have escaped a potentially serious moment without having to reveal my personal pain to an almost stranger.

  He ordered food for us, along with a bottle of wine. When the waiter brought it to the table, Brax did the whole wine-tasting thing, sniffing the cork, swishing the wine, all that stuff I’d only seen in movies.

  I sipped the red wine, not caring much for the taste despite its probable big price tag. I’d rather drink cheap wine, myself, like white zin. Not Brax, though. He was perfectly at home. I was so far over my head with this guy, and he had no idea what a mess he was dealing with.

  Brax studied me over the rim of his wineglass. The candlelight flickered across his strong features as he lifted his glass for a toast. “Happy Christmas Eve, Aubrey.”

  I touched my glass to his and took another sip. The stuff was growing on me.

  “You know, I was dreading tonight until I met you,” he said.

  “You were?” I gripped the stem of the wineglass so hard it should’ve snapped.

  Brax nodded and ducked his head, almost as if he were embarrassed, which could so not be the case. The man flirted like a master, so this insecure act had to be one more weapon in his overflowing arsenal. It hit the target, scoring a bull’s-eye square in my heart. As if I hadn’t been crushing on the guy all semester from a distance.

  He toyed with his napkin and finally raised his head. “So, tell me why a beautiful girl like you is alone on Christmas Eve.” His brow furrowed with such genuine concern that avoiding the question didn’t seem right.

  “Too much family drama,” I said, not interested in laying open my family dysfunction for him to dissect.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “And you? Your turn.”

  He stared at a point just over my shoulder. His jaw tensed, and his lips pursed into a thin, rigid line. “I’m not sure. I just didn’t feel like dealing with the fam this year either.”

  “And what is it you don’t want to deal with?” I pushed, curious to see if he’d answer.

  “Don’t get me wrong. My family is wonderful. Maybe too wonderful.” He reached across the table and caught my hand. His own was so big. His gaze dropped to our entwined fingers. “I don’t think I measure up most of the time.”

  Now that floored me. Fucking floored me. “You? Not measure up? You’ve got it all. What could they possibly find lacking?”

  “They don’t find anything ‘lacking’—not that they’ll admit to. But I know I don’t measure up.”

  “I don’t understand. You’re a premier quarterback destined for the NFL. How could they be any less than thrilled?”

  “You don’t know my family. My mom and dad are doctors. At times they travel all over the world saving lives. My sister’s in med school and my brother does cancer research. And I plan on playing a game for a living.”

  “Your chosen profession enriches lives, touches people and gives them an escape from their everyday world. That’s worth a lot.” I squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.

  “I never actually thought of it that way.”

  “Then you need an attitude adjustment, mister.”

  He leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart. “What I really need is to see those tattoos under your dress. That’d adjust my attitude just fine.”

  I met his steady gaze and channeled my inner biker chick. “We’ll see if you earn a peek, Mr. T.”

  “Give me a chance, tough girl, and I’ll earn more than a peek.”

  Right now getting naked with Brax ranked just a little bit higher on my priority list than watching Glee and eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy ice cream, so, yeah, I was guessing he’d earn more than a peek.

  Chapter 5

  Gifting

  Braxton

  The second I walked into the bar and saw Aubrey in that tight little sweater dress I knew she’d be my Christmas present—and I’d be hers. And watching her sip red wine and lick a crumb of bread off her lips just about did me in before the evening even really got started.

  I was contemplating my next move to get her in the sack when the waiter delivered our food. We ate in comfortable silence, soft violin music floating around us, weaving this romantic spell females love and pretty much guaranteeing I’d be seeing those tattoos. I could hardly wait. I wolfed down my dinner like starving man, though it wasn’t food I craved. The faster we ate, the sooner we could start the real main course.

  Aubrey toyed with her meal, only eating a nibble. Yet, I’d seen her eat and knew she had a healthy appetite.

  “What’s up? You don’t like it?”

  She looked up, her green eyes big and innocent. “No, it’s wonderful. I guess I’m not that hungry.”

  I drew little circles on her palm with my thumb. “I am.”

  She almost smiled. “I’m sure you have a healthy appetite.”

  “The healthiest.”

  She held my gaze. “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

  My thumb stopped in mid circle. I sat back in my chair and blinked several times. I’d been propositioned before, but never quite like that. “Uh, yeah, I want to fuck you.” Hell, I’m a guy. What guy wouldn’t want to fuck her? She oozed bad-girl sexuality without even trying.

  Aubrey extricated her hand from mine, folded her napkin neatly, placed it on the table and smiled. “Your place or mine?”

  “We’d better make it your place.”

  I didn’t give a shit how much the meal cost. I dropped a hundred on the table and hustled Aubrey out the door. I loved it when a woman knew what she wanted without the prerequisite game-playing most of them insisted on. Aubrey obviously wanted me, and I fucking wanted her.

  We trudged through the snow. About six inches had fallen since we’d gone into the bistro, creating a winter wonderland. All around us Christmas lights twinkled on homes and businesses. I was feeling pretty damn festive myself.

  The short trip to her house would take too long. I had to taste her now. As she reached the car, I turned her around. Wedging her between the passenger door and my body, I splayed my fingers across her hips. She reached up and grabbed handfuls of my hair, not so gently pulling my head down to hers. She wanted it as badly as I did.

  A guttural, animal-like moan escaped my mouth as I touched my lips to hers. Her soft mouth accepted mine, drew me in, promised me the world and then some.

  My tongue danced with hers. She tasted of red wine and the chocolate mints she’d popped in her mouth on the way out the door. The world as I knew it detonated around me. Hell, I’d been turned on by kissing before, but never like this. This went beyond sexual arousal, began a trajectory to planets uncharted in my solar system, in my universe.

  Did she know how much the simple act of kissing her yanked me off balance? She couldn’t. Kissing her shot me into this a zone unlike any other. In
credible. Sex with her would send me to an early grave, but damn, I wanted to go there with her. As she sucked on my tongue, I decided living in the mortal world was highly overrated.

  My legs wobbled while my knees almost gave out. I slid her up the side of the car; God knows where I got the strength. Face to face, I kissed the hell out of her. Her sweet body rubbed against mine as if she’d crawl under my skin if she could. Truthfully, she was already there.

  I don’t know how long we made out, but regardless of the sexual heat, the icy cold of a full-on blizzard permeated our coats. When Aubrey shivered—this time not from my kisses—I knew it was time to get her out of the weather and me into something more comfortable.

  Like her body.

  Chapter 6

  Unwrapped

  Aubrey

  After five aborted attempts to climb the steep hill to my little apartment, Brax let his SUV slide down the icy street.

  He kept calm as it skidded sideways, hit a curb, and finally came to rest on a sidewalk not far from the Grizzly Den. He backed it off the sidewalk and drove into the bar’s empty parking lot. Sitting back, he rubbed his brow.

  “Fuck, that hill is a sheet of ice. We could walk…” Brax stopped suddenly and frowned as the wind picked up and swirled snow around us, limiting visibility and no doubt dropping in temperature. “Maybe not. Do you have your key?” He jerked his head toward the bar.

  I nodded, not interested in trying that hill again, on foot or otherwise.

  “Let’s go inside and wait it out.”

  He grabbed my hand as we struggled through the knee-deep snow to the back door. A few seconds later we stood inside, kicking snow off our boots.

  I’d turned down the heat before we left, but even as chilly as it was inside, it felt balmy compared to the blizzard outside. Walking across the room, I flipped on the gas fireplace and waved at Brax to join me. He threw off his coat and jogged across the room.