Mistletoed Read online

  MISTLETOED

  By: M. Andrews

  Mistletoed

  Copyright 2016 M. Andrews

  This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Editing by:

  Kathleen Payne

  Cover Design by:

  Cover Me Darling

  Cover Image Copyright 2016

  Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  Table of Contents

  Mistletoed

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  More Books by M. Andrews

  For those who believe in Christmas miracles.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Derek

  “Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for landing,” the pilot’s voice calls out over the intercom.

  Jessica, the blonde doe eyed flight attendant, leans over my seat to collect my empty beer bottle. Another button on her white blouse has found its way open, giving me a deeper view of her cleavage. Since greeting me with a flirty smile when I boarded the plane, she has made an extra effort to ensure my comfort during the flight. I bet if I asked her to, she’d suck me off right in the middle of the aisle, if she thought it would lead to me taking her home. She’s pretty, decent rack, and a lovely smile, but I’m not interested. I don’t have time for relationships or one night stands.

  Six years ago, I started my own small tech firm, Dynamic Digital. I’ve turned it into one of the biggest tech companies in the world. We are second to Apple in innovation and soon we will surpass them. Our products will be in every home in the world even if it takes my last dying breath to make it happen. This business is my lifeblood, and I should be focused on the launch of our new touch screen home-automated system instead of jetting off to Colorado for Christmas. But my one weakness is that I can never say no to my mother, especially when she lays the guilt on extra thick. I haven’t been home for Christmas in five years. After her fifth phone call, I caved.

  I give Jessica an appreciative smile, which only prompts her to ask me to join her for a drink after the plane lands. I turn her down with a lie, telling her my girlfriend is picking me up. She gives me a disappointed pout, and the flirtatious glint in her eyes fades away. A part of me should feel bad for deceiving to her, but I feel nothing. I haven’t felt anything but numb since my wife, Sonia, passed away five years ago.

  Sonia and I were high school sweethearts. My heart was hers the moment she walked into our AP English class. She sat down at the desk next to mine and greeted me with a warm smile and bright emerald green eyes. She promptly introduced herself and proceeded to inform me we were going to be the best of friends. And that we were for fifteen blissful years. I’ll never forget the day we found out Sonia had cancer. We were in New York for our five-year wedding anniversary. We were in Tiffany’s, picking up the surprise new diamond wedding band I’d had specially designed for her. She was admiring her new ring when she collapsed. The doctor told us she only had four months to live. An inoperable brain tumor. Funny how the only neurologist who could possibly remove the tumor was the one carrying it. Sonia was the best neurosurgeon in the country. She gave hope to the people who were told there was nothing that could be done to save them. Unfortunately, for Sonia, no one came close to her skill and talent. Sonia didn’t want to spend her last days in the hospital, so I rented a house on the beach in Malibu. Sonia loved being by the water. She passed away in her sleep three months later. Her last days were filled with laughter and love.

  Sonia was my best friend and the love of my life. After she died, my heart stopped beating. It became incased in ice. Forever frozen.

  Following the other passengers off the plane, I pass by the Captain and Jessica, who has an embarrassed blush on her face as she thanks me for flying Delta. I make my way through the airport where my driver meets me down by luggage claim. In the backseat of the car, I sit and stare out the window, watching the snow dance across the dark Aspen sky. The thick flakes cover the road, making the journey to the family cabin a slippery one. The wheels slip and sway across the icy road. Just then my phone rings inside my coat pocket. I reach in and grab it. It’s probably my business partner, Richard, with more fires for me to put out. This release has had him on edge for the past few months and me leaving has only added to his anxiety.

  I look down at the screen and it’s my mother. “Hello mother.”

  “Hello Derek, sweetheart. I’m afraid I’m calling with some bad news. Our flight has been canceled. There is a snowstorm in New York that has shut down all the airports. I don’t know when we will be able to fly out. We may not make it home in time for Christmas. I just feel awful leaving you and Eliza on your own for Christmas.”

  “Who is Eliza?” I ask. She never mentioned anyone would be joining us for Christmas this year.

  “Eliza is your father’s new assistant. She’s a sweet girl, and she was going to be all alone for Christmas, so I invited her to stay with us for the holidays.”

  “You want me to spend Christmas alone with some strange woman I don’t even know.” I let out an annoyed sigh. Being stuck in a cabin with a stranger does not sound like my ideal Christmas.

  “Where’s your Christmas spirit my son? You must have some feeling left in that cold heart of yours. Eliza’s family is all the way in England, she has no one. I would appreciate it if you could show her a little kindness. Take her to the Christmas Festival and show her what an American Christmas is like.”

  “Okay, fine,” I relent.

  “That’s my boy. I will keep you up to date on our travel plans. Hopefully we will be there before the new year. I love you, son.” She makes a kissing sound over the phone.

  “Love you, too, Mother. Give my best to Dad.” I end the call, open up the web browser on my phone, and check for flights out of here. Just my luck, all flights are delayed due to the snowstorm invading Colorado. Looks like I’m stuck here.

  The car pulls up the circular driveway. The two-story log cabin is lit up with gold twinkle lights, and plastic candy canes line the walkway up to the door.

  I push the key into the deadbolt, the lock clicks, and the door opens to a Christmas wonderland. I drop my bags in the foyer, slide off my heavy winter coat, and hang it on the reindeer hook by the door. There isn’t a nook or cranny in this house that doesn’t have some form of Christmas decoration hanging off it. This is not my mother’s usual style. Her usually style is gold, silver, and boring, just a wreath hanging from the river rock fireplace and a tree. A poinsettia here and there . . . if she’s feeling crazy. This looks like Santa’s workshop blew up in here.

  Michael Buble is playing on the stereo, and the smell of baking gingerbread fills my senses. I follow the shrieking sounds of a woman’s voice singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town, to the kitchen where I find a curvy brunette in a white tulle skirt and a bright red and green plaid shirt cutting out cookies on the kitchen island with her back to me. I watch her as she grabs the tray of cookies and twirls her way to the oven. The oven door closes and she
turns in my direction. She jumps when she spots me standing in the doorway. Her deep blue eyes capture mine, staring deep into my soul. She’s talking but all I can hear is a loud thunderous boom in my ears. An excruciating yet pleasure filled pain erupts in my chest as the ice around my heart shatters into a million pieces. The first beat of my heart almost drops me to my knees in front of the most beautiful angel in the world.

  I’m so completely enchanted by her beauty. I don’t notice that I haven’t said a single word; she probably thinks I’m some crazy mute. All the blood in my brain is rushing south in my body, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. When she asks if I’m feeling okay, in her charming English accent, it snaps me back to reality.

  I shake the image of my head under her skirt, tongue devouring what I can only assume is one sweet delicious pussy out of my mind.

  “I’m sorry for my rudeness. The jet lag mixed with an already long day is kicking in.”

  “I’m the one who should be sorry for just rambling on and on. I tend to do that when I’m nervous,” she says with a small smile. “I spoke with your mum and it appears it will just be the two of us for Christmas. Or if you prefer to be by yourself, I could find a hotel to stay in until Monday,” she suggests.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s three days before Christmas, everything will be booked. Besides, it will be nice to have some company. No one should be alone on Christmas,” I reassure her. No way am I letting her out of my sight. I feel this primal need to own her. I haven’t felt this way since Sonia.

  “I promise, you won’t even know I’m here,” she says with an appreciative grin.

  “It would be impossible to ignore a beautiful woman, such as yourself, living under this roof.” A blush rises in her cheeks. Goddamn, she’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Um . . . thank you. Would you like something to eat? I made some lamb stew, I could heat some up for you.” She nervously plays with her hands. I hope she hasn’t notice the tent currently residing in the front of my pants.

  “I ate on the plane, but thank you. I think I’m going to go unpack and turn in for the night. It’s a pleasure meeting you Eliza.” I extend my hand to her. Her hand slides with ease into mine. There is an intense electrical charge sparking between us. It’s taking everything I have not to pull her into my arms and devour those ruby red lips of hers.

  “Good night Derek.”

  I think she can sense what I’m thinking; she pulls her lip nervously between her teeth. She looks up at me through dark lashes with a look of please don’t go in her eyes. But I need to collect myself before I do something foolish. She’s sweet and innocent and she’s my father’s assistant. I can’t fuck that up because I can’t keep my dick in check.

  I regretfully release her hand and turn to grab my bags from the foyer. I need to go deal with the raging hard-on that is draining all good sense out of my brain.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Eliza

  Christmas in the mountains was all the convincing it took for me to agree to fly to Aspen for the holidays. The promise of snow, sleigh rides, sugar cookies, and nights cozied up next to a warm fire made the homesick feeling I’d been dealing with since moving from my childhood home in Surrey England a little less painful. The only thing I wasn’t expecting was to get stuck alone with my new boss’ incredibly handsome son. I’d seen pictures of Derek in his father’s office, but they didn’t do him justice.

  Derek is intimidatingly handsome. Greek gods would be self-conscious around him with that chiseled jaw, golden blonde hair, and those intense blue-gray eyes that, in just one look, had the power to make me feel like I was about to become his next meal. But somehow, I also felt safe in his presence. No wonder I turned into a blubbering dim wit. Going on and on about my excitement for my first American Christmas. God . . . what he must think of me. He was sure in a hurry to get away from me.

  I quietly thanked the Lord when he left to go to bed. A minute longer and I would have melted into a puddle on the floor. Especially after he shook my hand. The simple gesture was so intimate and intense.

  I finally muster up a modicum of composure and walk through the cabin to the foyer to find my bag. Reaching inside, I pull out my hand-held fan. I flip the switch, letting the cool air calm my flushed face. This man has me completely on edge. I lift the hem of my skirt and blow the fan between my legs. I’m surprised that sexy grin of Derek’s didn’t melt my knickers right off my body. Good lord, you could roast marshmallows on the heat radiating off my pussy right now. No man has ever had this effect on me before.

  My ex, Richard, could put me to sleep just telling me good morning. He was a dreadful bore, in and out of the bedroom. My parents, of course, loved him because he was a Duke. The Duke of putting women to sleep with his tiny knob. My wild adventurous side wore on his last nerve and we parted ways. Which prompted me to take the leap and move to the states.

  I think I’m going to go outside and sit in the snow and see if I can extinguish this blazing inferno between my legs before I combust. I don’t know how I’m going to survive the next few days alone with Derek Erickson.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Derek

  I stare up at the ceiling, watching the light from the rising sun dance across the wood beams. My attempts to keep my mind off Eliza have all failed. I tried to think about work, but my mind would quickly turn to visions of Eliza on her knees under my desk with those crimson lips painting my dick a beautiful shade of red.

  I’ve gone five years without so much as morning wood, but one look at Eliza and I have a permanent hard-on. My cock is like a fucking divining rod, searching for Eliza’s pussy. I lost count of how many times I had to jerk off after 2 a.m. The only thing that is going to sate the beast is being balls deep in Eliza. I want her so fucking badly I can barely see straight. I haven’t wanted anyone this desperately since Sonia.

  I let out a frustrated sigh then throw back the blankets and rest my feet on the soft beige carpet, running my hands through my hair. I’m a jumbled mess, my head, heart, and dick are at war. I’m a ruthless businessman who has never thought twice about going after what I want. I don’t know why I’m confused about what to do with Eliza. I know I felt a real connection between us last night. I’ve been out of the game for too damn long. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but after five years on the bench it’s time I unwrap my dick and use it.

  * * *

  As I walk toward the kitchen, I hear a string of curse words that sound adorable laced with Eliza’s accent coming from the dining room. Stepping through the archway, I see Eliza bent over the table trying, and failing, to build a gingerbread house. “Bloody hell,” she shouts.

  “Can I be of some assistance?” I ask, fighting back the chuckle bubbling up in my chest, as a wall of gingerbread comes crashing down onto the table.

  She rights herself and looks in my direction with defeat in her eyes. “It would be much appreciated, thank you. I forgot building a gingerbread house is a two-person job.” She blows a loose strand of hair out of her face, revealing a smudge of icing on her forehead.

  “With my lack of expertise in building gingerbread houses, it will probably feel more like a one-and-a-half-person job.” I chuckle, joining her at the table.

  “You’ve never built a gingerbread house before?” she asks with a shocked expression on her face.

  “No, my mother usually orders them from the bakery in town,” I admit.

  “Well, then you are in for a treat once we get the walls up, that’s always the hard part.” She giggles while licking a drop of icing off her finger. I want to be that finger.

  I reach over and pick up a broken corner of wall from the table. “Looks like we are going to have a three-walled house,” I say, holding the piece up.

  “First rule in crafting a gingerbread house is always bake extra pieces. The broken chunks can be our snack.” She grins, reaching over with the piping bag and squeezing out a big dollop of icing.

  “Oh,
that’s plenty of icing.” I put my hand up to stop her, but it doesn’t seem to faze her. She keeps piping out the frosting.

  “It’s Christmas, there is no such thing as too much frosting or too many sweets.” She winks up at me. I watch as she sets the bag down on the table. My cock twitches at the delicious thought of tasting Eliza and frosting on my tongue.

  She turns her back to me to grab another wall section from the tray. I look her up and down, the oversized green wool sweater she’s wearing is sadly covering her curves. My head cocks to the side when I notice the bright red and white candy cane leggings covering her long lean legs. Sonia never wore vibrant outfits like this. She was always well put together. Every hair in its place, and I remember she wore a lot of gray and black. Maybe she wore a navy-blue dress to one of the hospital fundraisers she’d dragged me to often. Eliza’s wild outfit brings a smile to my face, it also makes me feel a bit stodgy in my khaki slacks and button up shirt.

  I glance over the table and spot a pair of reindeer antlers. I grab the antlers and maneuver the green headband over my head. Eliza turns back around and lets out a snort. “I felt under dressed for this occasion,” I say with a proud smile.

  “You look positively adorable. All right Rudolf, let’s get to work,” she says, handing me the slab of gingerbread.

  I walk around to the other side of the table and line up the wall. Eliza bends over the cookie box with a piping bag in hand. While she’s distracted with dispensing a line of frosting along the seam of the house, I lean in close and breathe in her sweet scent. A heavenly mix of nutmeg and vanilla. She smells like a delicious cookie ready to be eaten. Goddamn, I’m ready to devour her.

  “So Eliza, what brought you to New York?” I ask, trying to make small talk to distract my dirty thoughts.

  “After ending things with my ex, I needed a clean slate,” she says, running a line of icing along one of the corners of the house.