Free Naughty Nicks by Christine d'Abo

with the rest of the women as Greg performed the aforementioned spin— how did he not fall on his face doing that? —leaving him in nothing more than a pair of red Speedos, and Blake feeling rather inadequate in his manhood.
    Not fair.
    He should get out of here and go back to the office. He might have found the strength to do that if Kim hadn’t chosen that moment to lean back against him. The top of her head didn’t quite reach his chin, but her mass of curls did, tickling his skin. Her shoulders pressed into his chest, and his cock—it had never forgotten Kim and their amazing sex—was now pressed firmly against her lower back. This was worse than the kiss by a factor of a thousand.
    She jumped again, rubbing her body against his, letting him feel what he’d started dreaming about. The past few days had been torture for him. He thought staying away from Nicks would be enough to drive the memory of their brief kiss from his head. It had only made the dreams more vivid, forcing him to relive their night. Every time he closed his eyes, Kim was there looking back at him, sex-drunk and flushed, begging him for more. He was quickly moving beyond want and into the realm of need. If he didn’t fuck Kim soon, he might lose his mind.
    On day three following the kiss, he found himself showing up at Nicks to work, determined to enjoy the companionship they’d forged over the past few years and ready to ignore his desires. Kim was there, happy to see him, though clearly confused. She’d slipped back into their routine, flirting in that subtle way she had that screamed she was interested in him. Why he couldn’t get over this thing in his brain and be man enough to give them what they both wanted, he didn’t know.
    Sooner or later Kim would move on and find someone her own age to be with. Someone who was at the same place in their life as she was, who would give her the things that she wanted.
    “So ladies,” Greg said as he put his hands on his hips, “have you been naughty or nice?”
    “Nice!”
    Greg pouted and gave his hips a swivel. “That’s too bad. Because Santa has a special present, but it’s only for a naughty girl.”
    The screams from the women were near deafening with the sounds of, “Me! I’m naughty! ME! ME! ”
    Blake was quietly pleased when Kim said nothing, only laughed. She could have been jumping around like the rest of the women here, but instead she remained pressed to him. The floral scent of her shampoo was making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything else. The strands of hair that caressed his skin were soft, tempting him to touch, to press his nose into the mass of curls and breathe deep.
    He was an idiot if he thought he could resist her. She’d practically come out and told him she was interested. Even if this was only about sex, it was time Blake manned up and moved on with his life. Megs wasn’t the one holding him back any longer—no, the fault for his current misery landed squarely on his shoulders.
    Time to see what we can do.
    He lifted his arm and leaned against the doorframe, which caused his hips to jut forward. The new angle increased the pressure against Kim, doing absolutely nothing to hide his erection. She looked up at him, her big brown eyes as wide as he’d ever remembered seeing.
    “Enjoying the show?” There was a breathy quality to her voice that even the cat calls couldn’t mask.
    “There’s a show?”
    His chest tightened as he looked down at her. The difference in their heights made him feel powerful, as though she were the most precious of things and it was his duty to protect her. She’d no doubt kick his ass for even thinking that, but it was true regardless. The urge to strip her naked, to run his hands up and down her body, worshiping the inked lines and feminine curves, was one he hadn’t experienced since his first year of marriage.
    “Blake?”
    At some point, he’d lowered his head to close the distance between them. Fuck, he was