Baby It's Cold Outside (16 page)

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Authors: Addison Fox

BOOK: Baby It's Cold Outside
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“Stuck is a choice, Avery.”
At the well of tears that filled her friend’s eyes, Sloan patted her hand again. “It’s taken me thirty-three years to recognize that, but I finally do. Stuck is a choice.”
“That belongs on a T-shirt.”
“We could make millions.”
“Don’t forget mugs and notebooks, too.” Avery hesitated a moment. “Is everyone still out there?”
Sloan thought about the dying crowd she’d passed on her way to the kitchen. “There are still quite a few there, but not nearly as many as last night. Susan’s got the bar. They’ll keep.”
The two of them sat there quietly for a few minutes as Avery pulled herself together.
“What did it feel like?”
“What?” Avery dragged her gaze back from where it had hung on a light over the industrial-sized sink. “What did what feel like?”
“Being in love like that.”
Avery’s face changed in that moment. Softened. “It was wonderful.”
Sloan waited a beat, allowed Avery a moment to savor the memory. “Is that all?”
A shout of laughter rang out as Avery’s dreamy gaze focused, then sharpened. “Yeah, be-atch. That’s all.”
“Thanks for clearing that up.” Sloan patted her hand, then stood and crossed to the door. Pushing slightly on the swinging door, she turned her head. “I still hear party noises. I’d take another few minutes if I were you.”
“I think I’ll do that.”
Sloan was nearly through the door before she turned around again.
“Avery?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s more wonderful out there, you know.”
 
Walker was a grown man and it chaffed to admit it, but he longed. For the feel of a woman. The taste of her. The promise of her.
And it doubly chaffed to admit that it was Sloan McKinley who’d gotten under his skin.
The one thing he owned—controlled—was his personal choices. He’d never regretted coming home to Indigo after college and law school. He had enjoyed the life he’d built here.
But damn it, he was entitled to build the life he wanted.
And it didn’t include being tied down to anyone.
So how the hell did perfection manage to walk into his town on a pair of sexy legs and highly impractical designer heels?
This couldn’t go anywhere.
And more than that, attempting anything would surely result in ties he not only didn’t want, but didn’t need.
Grier Thompson wasn’t going anywhere. Even if she shook the snow off her boots as soon as she could escape Indigo, there was a connection to the town now.
She was bound to Indigo through her father.
And because of it, he couldn’t think about simply doing a bit of screwing around in Sloan’s hotel room.
He wasn’t callous and he wasn’t cruel. He entered into things with women who knew the score, knew what he was looking for and were seeking the same. A mutual good time and no strings.
And fuck it all, Sloan McKinley had strings written all over her.
Commitment strings.
Good girl strings.
Best friend strings.
And about a million others he couldn’t—and shouldn’t—ignore.
What was he thinking coming here, anyway? He’d been roped into acting as bellhop for Susan when a few guests arrived early. The women—a pair of friends from Chicago—had eyed him like he was a box of Godiva.
He pulled the crumpled note out of his pocket—one of the women had included it along with her tip when he’d dropped her off at her room. He’d tried giving both back, to no avail. She’d taken the money, but wouldn’t take the folded paper.
Nor the hint, apparently, as she managed to run her fingers over his ass as she closed the door behind him.
Crumpling the paper, he saw a trash can in an open conference room doorway as he walked the first-floor hallway back to the lobby.
He needed to leave.
Sloan had disappeared a while ago and it wasn’t his business to know where or why. Or to care about, either. So he would leave.
“Walker.” Her voice floated out to him on a breathless whisper.
And there she was, walking through the swinging doors to the kitchen not ten feet away from him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could say the same for you.”
She hesitated for the briefest of moments. “I was just helping Avery with something.”
“Me too. Susan asked me to help a few people up with their bags.”
“Full service.”
“It would have been fuller, had the guest gotten her way.”
Sloan’s eyes widened on that bit of news. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Before he could stop himself—before he could argue his way through all the pros and cons—he had her by the shoulders, pulling her against his body. His hands reached for her hair, fisting all those long blond strands as he walked backward toward the conference room he’d just passed.
“Walker—” Her whisper of his name ended on a moan as his mouth crushed hers, devouring her with a mix of tongue, teeth and lips.
She responded with reckless need, her mouth firm on his as she took, as he took, as they pushed each other on.
He had the presence of mind to slam the door as they tangled their way through the entrance, then continued moving them across the room. His spine hit the padded back of a conference table chair and Walker blindly reached for it, unwilling to break contact with her. With his free hand, he swirled the chair into position, then sat down in it, pulling her toward him by her hips.
Like a sexy fantasy come true, Sloan straddled him, her ass in perfect position for him to get a grip on it as he pulled her against him. With his mouth, he continued the assault, dragging a series of moans from her throat that grew in intensity.
Desperate for the feel of her skin, he skimmed his fingers along the waistband of her slacks. The light cashmere sweater she wore was soft as he lifted it, but nowhere near as soft as the skin he revealed underneath. He let his fingers roam over her lithe body—the slender hips, the slight curve of her belly, the indentation of her belly button. Over and over, he stroked as his mouth moved on hers.
He felt her hands moving over his shoulders in eager caresses that slowly drove him mad. From his neck, over his collarbone, to grip at his shoulders. The fervor in her fingertips was like a sexy brand and he enjoyed the restless motions of her hips as they both fell deeper into the kiss.
Deeper into each other.
 
Sloan didn’t know how it had happened. One minute she was thinking concerned thoughts for Avery and the next she was straddling Walker Montgomery in the middle of a conference room.
Oh God
, she was straddling Walker Montgomery in the middle of a conference room.
Thankfully he’d had the foresight to close the door, because she knew she had none. All she could manage to conjure up besides mind-numbing need was the abstract thought that this was a great idea in theory but probably not a great idea in practice.
And then his devious hands were dipping down under the waistband of her slacks and
in practice
suddenly seemed like a marvelous idea.
Inspired.
Phenomenal.
Sparks of desire shot through her body as his fingers unbuttoned the waistband of her pants, then dipped lower to brush over her pubic bone as he undid the zipper. She shifted to allow him better access, but those clever hands kept on moving, up under her sweater, his thumbs pressing the underside of each breast as his palms gripped her rib cage.
All the while, his mouth stayed wild on hers.
She was the one to break the contact of their mouths first, her head falling back as his fingers played over her nipples. The aching tips grew hard under his ministrations as he encouraged sensation after sensation deep inside of her. Liquid heat traveled down her spine in sensual waves, coalescing in her belly in raw, aching need.
Unable to contain her light moans, she took her pleasure, grinding more forcefully against the hard length of his erection where she was seated against him. A low growl rumbled in Walker’s throat and she was glad when he got her intent, his hands shifting from her sensitized breasts to the aching needs of her core.
She emitted his name on a sigh as his fingers dipped below the thin elastic of her panties and nearly groaned with satisfaction as he ran them along the folds of her body in one long, satisfying stroke. As his finger dipped inside of her, beckoning with deft movements, Sloan felt the world simply melt around her.
With a maddening exactitude that screamed lawyer—and a delightful devotion to his task—he didn’t let her rest as he dragged wave after wave of pleasure from her. One finger became two as he plied her body with unerring precision, long, swift strokes dragging her up, up, up and then holding her there, prolonging the moment until she wanted to scream from the exquisite need.
On a ragged whisper, she heard his voice as if from a long way away. “Sloan. Look at me.”
She opened eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d closed, staring into the dark orbs of his. Pleasure and satisfaction mixed as he kept his gaze focused on hers. “Come for me.”
“Walker.” She breathed his name, reaching for what he offered, desperate to take it. And then there was no more waiting—nothing more to do but simply shatter.
Walker held her as her body convulsed with pleasure, his strong hands an anchor as she left her body for a few brief, glorious seconds. Falling forward, she buried her face in his neck as her orgasm receded, the lingering shocks of pleasure still trembling through her.
She felt him move his hand, shifted to allow him to withdraw and reached for the hem of his shirt, intent on drawing it up. Great, giddy waves of happiness suffused her as she smiled down at him. “Is that what they call full service?”
His answering, sexy smile was the epitome of male satisfaction. “You could say that.”
“Well, then. Baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Her fingers fumbled with dragging his shirt up, her movements clumsy as her body still shivered with the aftershocks of pleasure. He leaned forward to help her when the distinct sound of the door clicking open stilled them both.
“Who’s in here?”
“Avery,” Sloan whispered against Walker’s chest.
A muttered “shit” was all she got in return.
“I’ll give you thirty seconds to get out of there.”
“Avery. It’s me.”
“Sloan? Oh. Good. I figured somebody’d snuck in here to get it on.” The door inched open as Avery reached in and flipped the switch. The bright overhead lights marred the ambience of muted light coming from the parking lot through the slats of the window blinds.
“Actually . . .” Sloan peeked over Walker’s shoulder, their bodies firmly shielded by the oversized conference room chair as Avery walked through the door.
“Oh God! I’m so sorry.” Avery spun on her heel, slamming the door in her wake.
 
“Well, that wasn’t awkward,” Sloan muttered against the side of his head.
“Not much.”
He gently maneuvered her off his lap, struggling to stand around the painful erection that would likely haunt him for the rest of the night.
“You okay?” She glanced up from zipping up her slacks.
“Fine. Good.”
“Good.” She reached up to smooth her hair. When she missed a large piece that flew out sideways, he lifted his hand to assist her.
He straightened his own clothes, smoothing the material over his waist.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Sloan. We should get going.”
She shrugged and left the room in front of him. As he watched the light swish of her hips, he couldn’t stop the clench of his hands as his mind went straight back to the feel of her hips in his palms.
What the
hell
was he thinking?
The fucking conference room?
With his grandmother down the hall?
Part of the joy of being footloose and fancy free was that he kept that area of his life separate.
In a life that didn’t have much privacy, this was one area he owned. And he’d be damned if he was going to give it up.
Sex in public in front of the entire town was hardly the way to keep that part of his life private.
He followed Sloan down the hall, not surprised when she stopped at the bank of elevators instead of returning to the lobby. “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”
“Probably a good idea.”
When her gaze ran the length of him, his traitorous body—already walking the tightrope of barely banked desire—nearly ignored any and all sense of caution in favor of dragging her back against him.

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