Christmas With His Best Friend Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2016 Doris O’Connor

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-099-4

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  In loving memory of Luther and Bella. We'll always miss you. RIP, my lil writing buddies.

  CHRISTMAS WITH HIS BEST FRIEND

  Doris O’Connor

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  Emma groaned to herself when her alarm sounded for the third time that morning. That’s what she got from staying up half the night being plagued by erotic dreams she had no business having, let alone about her best friend. What he got up to in his free time, and what made him breeze in at past 4:00 AM was none of her damn business, after all.

  Even so, she hadn’t managed to get back to sleep once the slam of the front door had woken her up. His soft curse had carried, and she’d held her breath when his heavy footsteps had halted in front of her door. The wood had creaked as though he’d been leaning his considerable bulk on it, to do what, exactly, she had no idea.

  Maybe, he’d been worried he’d woken her, or, maybe—and that thought had really put paid to any restful sleep after it had popped into her brain—he’d listened at the door to make sure she was still asleep so that he could smuggle his latest conquest inside.

  The snooze button went off again, and, shaking her head, Emma swung her legs out of bed and turned the damn thing off for good. Fuck it all, she’d barely have time for a wash, let alone anything else, and pushing all thoughts of Josh and what he may or may not have gotten up to last night firmly from her mind stepped under the hot spray. The quickest shower in the history of showers completed, she threw on her work clothes, twisted her hair up into a damp bun, applied some lip gloss, eyeliner, mascara, and a touch of blusher to liven up her pale complexion, and shoved her feet into her four-inch heels. Murder on her feet for a day in the office, but they added some much-needed height to her five foot five, far too curvy frame.

  Her new boss had a tendency to lean over her in that aggravating, male superior stance that had her fantasizing about burying her heel in his no doubt minuscule balls more than once.

  A short laugh escaped her at the thought, which turned into a sigh of deep pleasure when she saw the full carafe of coffee in the coffee machine. Emma smiled at the Post-it left on the handle.

  You forgot to set this, so I did it for you. We both know what a bear you are in the morning without your coffee, little Em.

  Josh’s unmistakable large, masculine scrawl made her grin almost as much as the use of her old nickname. Maybe he hadn’t smuggled anyone in last night then, even if the faint smell of booze and stale smoke still hung in the air. His leather jacket was flung over the back of a chair, and his boots lay at right angles outside his slightly ajar bedroom door. Not a sound could be heard from within, so he must be sleeping, she hoped, on his own.

  None of your business, girl.

  The mental pep talk did little to stop her imagination from going into overdrive. A guy like Josh was never short of female attention. It had been the same back in high school when he’d first appeared on her radar. While a new-in-town Emma had been mortified at the hottest guy in school being assigned as her buddy for her first week, she needn’t have worried. For starters, he had all the hot, skinny chicks after him, even then, and he’d never been anything but politely attentive to her. Much to her surprise, her usual trip-up-over-her-own-tongue-when-around-cute-guys syndrome didn’t materialize with him. Probably because she knew that she’d never, ever stand a chance with him, and an unlikely friendship had sprung up between them.

  They had seen other through countless relationships, breakups, exam worries, job woes, etc., and while they hadn’t seen each other in years, having settled in different parts of the country, Josh was always the first guy she called when anything big happened in her life. When Emma had found herself on her own, having discovered her fiancé balls deep inside his skinny secretary—such a fucking cliché—and unable to afford the steep London rent on their two bed flat by herself, Josh had stepped into the breach.

  Back in town, and needing a place to crash, he’d become her roommate. An ideal solution, if you ignored the way her unruly body seemed determined to melt at a mere whiff of his spicy cologne, or the way he dropped his voice when he called her his little Em.

  That voice alone haunted her dreams, never mind the rest of him. Josh had always been tall and athletic, but in the ten years since they’d last seen each other, the boy she’d known had grown into a man. Stubble seemed to permanently grace his strong jaw, and his eyes had somehow become bluer, more piercing and intense when he studied her. His body, too, like hers, had filled out. Whereas she had turned softer, and even more rounded, however, his body had become harder. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of fat anywhere on his body, from what she could tell, and she could have sworn he’d gained a few inches, too. Even in her heels, she had to look up to talk to him. It was a curious sensation that Josh’s superior bulk and height never once intimidated her, whereas the mere hint of her boss leaning over her made her stomach churn.

  With Josh, she only ever felt safe, protected. Then again, he had been the one she’d phoned in tears when she’d found out about Kevin’s cheating, and Josh had dropped everything, driven miles down the country, wordlessly held her when she cried, and then helped her to move out all of that bastard’s belongings. She shivered, recalling how angry Josh had been when Kevin had turned up. She had never been more grateful to her best friend than at the way he’d taken charge, gotten rid of her ex, and generally speaking had been nothing but supportive of her efforts to get back on her emotional feet.

  It wasn’t his fault that Emma’s thoughts had turned from friendship to something else entirely lately. How or why it had happened she couldn’t even say, but the first time Josh had brought a girl back to the flat after he’d moved in, Emma had been consumed with insane jealousy. She wasn’t proud of the way she’d handled it—the girl had been perfectly nice and far too damn tall and fucking skinny—Emma almost growled at that thought, but seeing Josh be openly affectionate to someone else… That had stung, and turned Emma into a sharp-mouthed harpy.

  Josh had cornered her the next morning after Susan had left, and the hint of censure in his clipped tones had made Emma feel utterly wretched inside.

  “I didn’t appreciate the way you talked to her last night, Em. Whatever your issue is, it isn’t Susan’s fault.”

  Emma had snapped her head up and glared at him.

  “I don’t have an issue. Why would I? Maybe I just don’t appreciate having your latest floozy dangled in front of me in my own home.”

  She knew she’d overstepped the mark when his eyes had darkened and his jaw clenched. The look he threw at her made her want to sink to her knees and beg his forgiveness, which was a ludicrous thought. Instead, she had crossed her arms under her far too big boobs. Time had stood still when Josh had dropped his gaze to her cleavage, and held it there, for what seemed like hours, but could only have been seconds. Even so, that look had made her far too aware of him. Her skin had tingled, her nipples firmed and pushed agai
nst her forearms, and by the time Josh had slowly brought his gaze back up to meet hers, the leisurely travel of his focus had felt almost like a physical caress. It had left her flustered and speechless, which had meant his disapproval had stung even more.

  “I see. I shan’t dignify your assessment of her with an answer. Suffice to say it will not happen again.”

  With that, he’d turned around and slammed the door to his room shut with so much force the picture frames had rattled. Things had been uncomfortable for a while between them after that incident, but at least, Josh hadn’t brought any more girls home. He just stayed out nearly every evening and came home in the early hours like he had done last night.

  With a sigh, Emma downed the last of her coffee, grabbed her handbag and hot footed it out of the apartment. Naturally, the lift was malfunctioning again. You’d think the landlord of these overpriced apartments would get his finger out, and fix the blasted thing once and for all, but no such damn luck. By the time she’d run down the flight of four stairs, Emma was out of breath and pissed as fuck, never more so than when she rummaged through her handbag for her car keys and came up empty handed.

  “Fuck it all to next week and back.”

  The old lady from across the road, who walked her dog along this stretch of path every morning, frowned at Emma’s outburst. Emma offered her an apologetic smile and gestured to her car.

  “Sorry for the language, I forgot my keys, and the da—I mean the lift is broken again in my building. I’m going to be late for work at this rate.”

  The old dear smiled and patted her arm.

  “You youngsters are always in too much of a hurry.”

  With that she walked off, her aged terrier beside her, and rolling her eyes, Emma made the trek back upstairs considerably slower than she’d come down them. Who needed the gym, with the lift out of order? Not that any amount of exercise seemed to make any difference to her weight or body shape. She might lose a few pounds, but there was nothing at all, Emma could do about her wide hips, thunder thighs, and 36G boobs. At least they, as uncomfortable as they could be, assured her plenty of male admiration. Usually the wrong sort, but Emma was not averse to working with what Mother Nature gave her. There had to be some compensation for all the taunts she’d had to endure as a well-endowed teenager.

  All those thoughts fled her brain completely when she pushed open the door to her flat and the unmistakable sounds of sex reached her. So he had brought someone back then. Her immediate anger dissipated when she stepped into the hallway and saw Josh’s reflection in the mirror opposite the entrance to the living room. He was on his own, after all, and she shouldn't be watching. She knew that, yet she couldn't tear her gaze away from the sight of Josh pleasuring himself.

  Who was he imagining, she wondered, as he pumped his hand faster. Head thrown back against the seat cushion, her roommate lost himself to the throes of his release. Thick jets of cum spurted onto his taut abdomen, and Emma clenched her thighs together to relieve the ache in her pussy.

  She would truly be wearing out her vibrator now she knew what Josh looked like as he came. Her imagination had not done him justice before. The glimpses she'd caught off his physique had not prepared her for the reality of his tightly packed muscles now glistening in sweat. Nor for the intricacy of the tattoos gracing his biceps and pecs. He must have added to them recently, the flock of dandelion seeds blowing in the imaginary wind across his chest particularly stunning. It gave her a pang inside because blowing those seeds into the air and watching them take flight was still something Emma could never resist doing when she came across them.

  He groaned and shifted, and Emma ducked behind the door out of sight. The chair creaked, and she heard the pad of his bare feet heading for the shower.

  She let out the breath she hadn't even been aware of holding, and stepped into the living room. There on the table were her car keys. Time to grab them and get out of here, pronto.

  However, the keys slipped out of her hands when she saw the picture he'd propped up. It was one of hers taken on a boudoir shoot. She’d won the photo session in a work raffle, and against her better judgment had participated and actually enjoyed the session. So much so, that she had forked out considerable cash to get the best shots of her. This particular one was one of her, lying back on the bed, covers artfully arranged around her naked body. Arms over her head, her back was arched, chin lifted, exposing the delicate arch of her neck—at least that’s what the photographer had called it at the time. With her long blonde hair fanning across the bed behind her, eyes closed, lips slightly open, she looked as though the photographer had caught her in the act of pleasure. Emma’s cheeks heated anew when she recalled that exact moment this shot had been taken because she had been caught up in the fantasy. In her mind’s eye, it had been Josh’s large hands caressing her naked body, not the silk sheets, which hid how wet the mere thought had made her. It was an extremely intimate portrayal of her, and the thought that Josh had…

  “Fuck, this isn’t what it seems like.”

  Emma spun around at his voice, and for the second time this morning the world shifted slightly on its axis. He was fresh out of the shower, with a towel, haphazardly slung low across his hips. Beads of moisture still clung to Josh’s sculpted abs, and she followed the trail of one down the dips and valleys of his six pack, as it clung precariously to his happy trail for a few precious seconds before it was absorbed by the edge of the towel. She hastily wrenched her gaze back up to his face when she noticed the thickening bulge behind the fabric, and she knew her cheeks were flaming when her gaze snared in his intense blue one.

  He looked tense, unsure even, and for the life of her, she couldn’t break his stare. His eyes darkened, heated in what looked suspiciously like lust, and her knickers gave up any pretense of holding in her arousal. She would be spending a very uncomfortable few hours at work sitting in damp underwear.

  Work, shit.

  Not breaking eye contact with him, she bent down and fumbled for her keys. Emma breathed a sigh of relief when her questing digits encountered the cool metal and holding them up like a shield between them, she forced a smile on her lips.

  “I forgot those. I’ve gotta dash.”

  Not waiting for his response, she fled from the room, intent to get away, to put this embarrassing moment behind them. She got as far as yanking the front door open before his large hand slammed it shut and his body heat enveloped her from behind. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to. The mere fact that he was right behind her, his virile, clean, scent enveloping her, as he brought his other hand around, too, effectively trapping her against the door, meant she stayed put. She swallowed hard, closed her eyes, took a deep breath to quiet her tumultuous thoughts and to get her rapid breathing back under control.

  “I need to explain why—”

  “Please, don’t.” Emma grimaced at the breathy quality of her voice. Talk about giving away how affected she was by his presence. Why the fuck had this happened now? Nothing would ever be the same again between them, and she had the awful suspicion that she had just lost her best friend.

  His sigh right next to her ear blew his hot, minty breath across the sensitive skin of her neck, and Emma couldn’t help her involuntary shiver in response. She felt him shift closer, and when she opened her eyes, the biceps next to her flexed, as though it cost him to keep his hands off of her, which should have been a ridiculous notion. Why should he be affected by her? She wasn’t his type, she knew that. Then again, why on earth had he been masturbating to her picture? She ought to be outraged at this discovery, feel violated at his having pried into her personal affairs to such a degree that he found that picture. Not only found it on her laptop, but had made a copy of it, it seemed for his own personal amusement, yet she couldn’t find that anger. This close to him, it only added to the intense arousal coursing through her veins.

  “Sweet little Em.”

  His voice dropped an octave as he uttered those words, and Emma shut he
r eyes again and shook her head.

  “Please, I can’t. I need to get to work. I’m already late, and I need this damn job. Let me go, please. I don’t want to talk about this now.”

  She held her breath, as Josh stepped closer still, so close that she could feel the solid length of his erection dig into her ass. One of his hands rested on her hips, pressing her closer into his groin, and Emma bit down on her tongue to stop herself from moaning in response. Oh, lord, this couldn’t be real. Maybe she was still in bed dreaming about him.

  He inhaled deeply and then stepped back.

  The sudden change in temperature made Emma shiver anew, and pulling a shuddering breath into her lungs, she reached for the door handle.

  “We’ll discuss this tonight, little one.”

  His parting words made her gasp. She wasn’t at all sure whether that was a promise or a threat.

  Chapter Two

  Josh released a string of swear words when his little Em pulled the doors shut behind her. The far too fast click of her heels was a testament to the fact that she was running away from him.

  “Fuck it.”

  Josh barely resisted the urge to punch the wall. Adding holes to the structure of the flat would only land him in even deeper water than he was in already. He was so fucking stupid. Why the hell hadn’t he jacked off in his bedroom like he usually did? He knew why, of course. He’d been dozing when he’d heard the front door shut. Having jerked awake with a boner the size of the freaking Eiffel Tower, his hard-on had only gotten worse once he’d padded into the living room, and had caught her lingering sweet scent. It was a mixture of the shampoo she used, her perfume, and simply the essence of everything that was his sweet Em. And she was his, dammit.