Naughty Nicks by Christine d'Abo Page B

mouth. Still, it was better to face the music with a slight buzz than sit around and sulk because she’d been stood up by her boss...who’d had his tongue down her throat the night before...and appeared to have enjoyed things.
    Kim groaned and flopped back against her pillows, refusing to watch any more.
    “What the hell am I doing?”
    Their kiss by the bathroom had been a strange, almost surreal event that she would have questioned if it happened if it hadn’t been for the recurring fantasies she’d furiously masturbated to ever since. She’d gotten the impression that had been more than a little impulsive on his part, something that he’d regretted given his disappearing act.
    And last night Blake had been forced into kissing her. There was no way Sarah and the girls would have let him escape without a good showing. He’d always been a good sport when it came to things like that and she wasn’t surprised he’d been willing to play along. His quirky sense of humor and ability to roll with the punches was one of the reasons Naughty Nicks had become so successful in such a short time.
    Maybe he simply wanted to see her today to apologize for taking advantage of the situation. That was exactly the type of thing Blake would do. He’d blame himself, writing the evening’s events up to something outside of his control. No wonder he was dragging his feet. He was probably in the office writing a speech, making sure it wouldn’t be offensive to her lest she quit, leaving him high and dry.
    The sound of the doorbell echoed through her apartment and set her heart racing. Kim sat bolt upright, her head throbbing in protest from the sudden change in her orientation. Of course he’d show up now . She’d taken the effort to look good, all of which meant nothing after an afternoon of moping. Touching her hair, she could only imagine the state she must look. There was a coffee stain on the thigh of her jeans and her Snoopy Christmas T-shirt now sported an impressive set of wrinkles.
    Oh well, he better not say anything if he expected to leave with his jingle balls attached.
    Kim made it to the door by the third ring, and still needed a moment to collect herself before she could open it. Because it was Blake standing on the other side—she hoped—and he’d never been to her apartment before. Not once. Normally, she’d go through on a last-minute tear, cleaning up whatever she could. But considering the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on today, the pile of laundry on her couch shouldn’t be a big deal.
    Closing her eyes, she flicked the lock and pulled the door open. “It would have been better to have stated an actual time so I didn’t waste my whole day.”
    There wasn’t a sound, which forced Kim to actually look at her visitor. Instead of seeing Blake, or God forbid the pizza guy, the only thing her brain was able to register was the color red.
    Lots and lots of red.
    With some white around the fringe. And a giant white fake beard.
    “No,” she said in little more than a whisper. It would have simply been too ridiculous to rub her eyes, ensuring that the vision before her was real.
    It was a Santa Claus.
    The jacket of the man fell open to reveal a bare chest, covered with only the lightest dusting of hair.
    No, it wasn’t Santa. This was one of her Naughty Nicks.
    “Shit.” Kim resisted the urge to lick her lips, but she wasn’t strong enough to tear her gaze away from that barest hint of flesh to look into the eyes of the man standing there. She thought she could identify each of the guys by their midsections, but apparently she needed a refresher course.
    “Blake sent you here?”
    “Not exactly.”
    Kim gasped. She knew that voice better than anyone else. Maybe the wine had gone to her head and was making her hallucinate. “ Blake? ”
    “Mind if I come in? It’s drafty out here.”
    Kim backed away, more out of shock than any true acknowledgment of his request. “What are you doing? I mean, I