Read Online Christmas Dinner (Crimson Romance) by Robyn Neeley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robyn Neeley
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much about my personal life with my colleagues.” She peered outside the window. “Well, isn’t that interesting . . . .” She spun around. “Come here,” she demanded. “Quick.”
“What’s wrong?” He jumped off the bed.
“Don’t look.” She moved from the window. “Brad’s outside drinking a beer. He’s looking right up here.”
Tate grinned. “Why that Peeping Tom. Want me to go down and kick his ass?”
“I’ve got a better idea.” She grabbed the bottom of her sweater and yanked it over her head.
Tate blinked. “Amanda?” She was standing in front of him in a black satin bra. He stared at her breasts, wanting to reach out and unhook the material that stood between him and them.
“I’m tired of playing the victim.” She reached for his arm and positioned him so they were face to face in front of the window. Her eyes revealed a seductive glint.
“What are you doing?” Her hands were gently tugging his sweater.
“Oh, I think Tate Ryan knows exactly what I’m doing.” She yanked his sweater up.
He certainly did and helped her pull it over his head. Before it hit the floor, her lips were on his. Was Christmas coming early for him?
She jumped up and latched her legs around his hips.
Apparently it was.
He spun her around, gently cupping her round bottom. She was planting soft kisses on his neck while her hands ran up and down his back. This was way too good to be true.
“Is he looking?” She nibbled on his earlobe.
“Who?”
“Brad,” she muttered. “Is he still watching?” Her tongue probed his ear.
He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. “I’m sure of it,” he whispered. His lips crashed into hers for another long kiss.
She broke contact. “Take me to the bed.”
He carried her from the window and gently laid her down on the satin red comforter. He leaned in to resume the kiss. His lips needed to be back on hers, to show her just how much he wanted her . . .
She squirmed from his grasp, crept over to the light switch, and flipped it off. Flopping back on the bed, she giggled and brought her knees up, covering her chest. “That was awesome!”
Tate cocked an eyebrow. It was a phrase he’d heard before, but usually it came after sex, not before.
“I’m sure Brad saw
all
of it. Thank you.” She reached out to high five him. “By the way, nice moves.”
Tate’s heart sank. The window show was all a charade. Of course, he’d known that, but somewhere between her straddling him and his groin tightening, he’d forgotten. All in a day’s work,” he mumbled and high fived her back. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
She swung her legs around to the floor and picked up her sweater. As quickly as it had come off, she slipped it back on.
The moment really was over. Tate rose from the bed. “Um, Amanda, if you’re done with me, I think I’m going to take a shower.”
A cold one
.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Quit it.” Amanda giggled and blocked her face with her hand. “Tate, cut it out. Someone might hear us.”
Her eyes popped open. It was daylight, and she was in her own bed—alone. Tate wasn’t showering her with kisses, but something was, and it had fur.
“Jingle Bells!” She sat up and hugged the rambunctious Jack Russell Terrier. The family dog continued to smother her with his wet tongue. “Jingles, I have missed you so much.” She rubbed his white belly.
The sound of water running in the adjoining bathroom signaled Tate must have jumped in the shower.
She thought back to the last twenty-four hours. Who could have predicted it would have started with Santa’s butt lodged in her car and ended with her straddling her co-anchor.
Tate certainly knew how to kiss. Wow! She hadn’t meant to go so over the top. Just enough for Brad’s benefit. But then, Tate had devoured her . . .
It was all for show, she rationalized. Still, when Tate had kissed her, her toes curled. She got caught up in the moment. Apparently, from her outburst in her sleep,
“What’s wrong?” He jumped off the bed.
“Don’t look.” She moved from the window. “Brad’s outside drinking a beer. He’s looking right up here.”
Tate grinned. “Why that Peeping Tom. Want me to go down and kick his ass?”
“I’ve got a better idea.” She grabbed the bottom of her sweater and yanked it over her head.
Tate blinked. “Amanda?” She was standing in front of him in a black satin bra. He stared at her breasts, wanting to reach out and unhook the material that stood between him and them.
“I’m tired of playing the victim.” She reached for his arm and positioned him so they were face to face in front of the window. Her eyes revealed a seductive glint.
“What are you doing?” Her hands were gently tugging his sweater.
“Oh, I think Tate Ryan knows exactly what I’m doing.” She yanked his sweater up.
He certainly did and helped her pull it over his head. Before it hit the floor, her lips were on his. Was Christmas coming early for him?
She jumped up and latched her legs around his hips.
Apparently it was.
He spun her around, gently cupping her round bottom. She was planting soft kisses on his neck while her hands ran up and down his back. This was way too good to be true.
“Is he looking?” She nibbled on his earlobe.
“Who?”
“Brad,” she muttered. “Is he still watching?” Her tongue probed his ear.
He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. “I’m sure of it,” he whispered. His lips crashed into hers for another long kiss.
She broke contact. “Take me to the bed.”
He carried her from the window and gently laid her down on the satin red comforter. He leaned in to resume the kiss. His lips needed to be back on hers, to show her just how much he wanted her . . .
She squirmed from his grasp, crept over to the light switch, and flipped it off. Flopping back on the bed, she giggled and brought her knees up, covering her chest. “That was awesome!”
Tate cocked an eyebrow. It was a phrase he’d heard before, but usually it came after sex, not before.
“I’m sure Brad saw
all
of it. Thank you.” She reached out to high five him. “By the way, nice moves.”
Tate’s heart sank. The window show was all a charade. Of course, he’d known that, but somewhere between her straddling him and his groin tightening, he’d forgotten. All in a day’s work,” he mumbled and high fived her back. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
She swung her legs around to the floor and picked up her sweater. As quickly as it had come off, she slipped it back on.
The moment really was over. Tate rose from the bed. “Um, Amanda, if you’re done with me, I think I’m going to take a shower.”
A cold one
.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Quit it.” Amanda giggled and blocked her face with her hand. “Tate, cut it out. Someone might hear us.”
Her eyes popped open. It was daylight, and she was in her own bed—alone. Tate wasn’t showering her with kisses, but something was, and it had fur.
“Jingle Bells!” She sat up and hugged the rambunctious Jack Russell Terrier. The family dog continued to smother her with his wet tongue. “Jingles, I have missed you so much.” She rubbed his white belly.
The sound of water running in the adjoining bathroom signaled Tate must have jumped in the shower.
She thought back to the last twenty-four hours. Who could have predicted it would have started with Santa’s butt lodged in her car and ended with her straddling her co-anchor.
Tate certainly knew how to kiss. Wow! She hadn’t meant to go so over the top. Just enough for Brad’s benefit. But then, Tate had devoured her . . .
It was all for show, she rationalized. Still, when Tate had kissed her, her toes curled. She got caught up in the moment. Apparently, from her outburst in her sleep,
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