Logan looked out the picture window of his cabin. The snow was coming down. Not too thick, and not too heavy yet, but a blizzard was forecast to hit any minute now. He was grateful to have made it up the mountain before the snow thickened.

He shut the drapes against the sight, picked up his glass of whiskey, and moved to the easy chair in front of the fire.

By all rights, there should be a dog at his feet. Someone to keep him company, but who wouldn’t play Christmas songs or wrap her desk in holiday paper. Someone who wouldn’t make coffee for him just the way he liked it, and definitely not someone he wanted to press up against the nearest wall and ravish.

He closed his eyes and allowed the vision that was Katherine Dodd into his mind. When she mentioned the kiss that afternoon, he had been grateful to be sitting, his lap beneath the desk so she couldn’t see his dick rise.

The woman had a body made for sex. Made for him, damn it. But she worked for him, and his daddy had pounded it into his head that you never fucked where you work. The atmosphere in the world now, regarding sexual harassment, had him holding his breath after that kiss. Waiting for the ball to drop. Waiting for her to press charges.

He still couldn’t believe she didn’t. Wouldn’t.

The sight of her today, in that dress, her breasts temptingly displayed, her lips lush and red, had catapulted him into a lustful haze. He wanted her against him. Underneath him. Surrounding him.

The Christmas music had killed the lust.

Damn but he hated Christmas.

He swallowed the last of the whiskey in his glass, the mellow heat of it spreading through him. Good.

Did she like the roses? All women liked roses. That’s what the florist had said, at any rate. The necklace…did she like that? He’d checked his email before he left town, but no response. And he hadn’t thought to put a “response required” tag on it, so he had no idea if she got her presents.

No idea if she went back to the office, though she said she would.

What would he do if she quit? She knew everything about the business. She ran it more efficiently than Wren ever did and nagged at him to let her do more. But to let her do more would be to let her into his life, and that he couldn’t do.

He hadn’t fucked a woman since he kissed her, a year ago. She’d so thoroughly grabbed his attention with her scent, her taste, her body pressing against his, that his cock simply didn’t want anyone else.

Only her.

If she quit, he could fuck her. That would be…not worth it, because he’d lose an assistant as well as a lover. And they all left. All of them.

His mind drifted to Sela. She was beautiful, damaged. So fucking damaged, just like him. That’s why he had been convinced they would make it, would win against the odds. Until Christmas Eve…

He vaulted out of the chair and went to where the whiskey decanter sat on the bar cart. Poured another two fingers This was not the night to think about Sela, and what might have been.

The sound of a car cut through the silence of the night. What the fuck? He stalked to the window and twitched the curtain aside. A vehicle’s headlights were heading his way, before turning and parking on the left side of the wide circular drive.

A white Subaru. Katherine. Damn it.

A fury he’d never known before filled him, fury percolated with lust. She was here. And with the weather forecast, he couldn’t let her leave, because that was just suicide, and not again. Before she could even get out of the car, he had left the front door wide open, gone down the porch steps, and stood, arms akimbo, at her car.

She opened her car door and stepped out. Relief slid through him. She was dressed for snow.

He stalked forward. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Katherine blinked. “I have Mr. Hennessey’s designs and gemstones. He said you were supposed to pick them up, that you knew he needed this before January tenth.” Her dark eyebrows rose over crystal clear blue eyes. Her mouth was still slicked with that fuck-me red that drove him wild. “You shaved. You look better.” Her hand went to his jaw before she snatched it back, as if touching him would burn her.

A muscle on the left side of his jaw twitched. “Never mind. Do you have an overnight bag in that car?” He ignored the skis strapped to the top of the car.

“Of course. I’m headed to Mammoth Lakes. Skiing with college buddies.” She blinked. “Why?”

“Because you’re staying here.”

Her stubborn chin lifted, and her eyes blazed. “Um, no, I’m not.”

The wind whipped up then, and the snow fell harder. “Blizzard warning. Didn’t you hear it on the radio coming up? Or were you too busy listening to Christmas music?” He went to her hatchback and gestured. “Open up.”

She obeyed, clicking the remote that opened the hatch. He found her suitcase, and a couple other bags, and hauled them all out. Shut the hatch.

“Come on.” He went inside with her stuff, expecting, hoping, praying that she’d follow.

He heard a muffled curse, then her car door closing. The beep of the remote lock sounded, her footsteps crunched across the snow, and he allowed himself to relax just a bit. Fuck. She was twenty-six, not sixteen. He was six years older than she. There was nothing wrong or illicit about this, at all. He was thinking only of her safety.

His cock twitched, as if to say ‘yeah, right, safety. Haha.’

Logan put her bags down next to the couch, not knowing what else to do with them. The door closed behind him and he turned. Caught his breath.

She wore a cherry-red snowsuit that fit her curves in a way that should be illegal, and held the crystal vase of roses that he’d given her in her arms. After she put the vase down on a side table, she pulled the white knit cap from her hair, which tumbled about her shoulders in sable-brown curls, irritation clear in every line of her lush body.

“Do you seriously think I’m going to stay here?”

A wind gust shook the cabin. The fire whooshed from the oxygen coming down the chimney. Logan tilted his head.

“Do you seriously think you aren’t, in this blizzard? I’ve been tracking it. I made it here before the winds started to blow. Frankly, I’m amazed you made it up the mountain.”

“All-wheel drive,” she muttered. She slung the bag she called her purse to the coffee table in front of the sofa and pulled out a manila envelope and a velvet bag.

“Mr. Hennessey’s gemstones, and his design.”

He sighed. “I forgot to swing by and pick them up.”

“So he said.” There was no censure in her voice, there never was, just a resignation that went deep.

“Thank you for bringing it to me.”

She tilted her head. “You’re welcome. I adore the Hennesseys, you know.” She looked around. “Nice place you have here.”

“It was my dad’s hunting cabin. Come on, I’ll show you around.” He gestured. “The main living space.”

There was the fireplace, two couches, three armchairs, and two bookcases filled to overflowing.

“Reading material. Comfy chairs. Fireplace. Life is good. Next?” She tilted her head up to him, and he took a deep breath.

Inhaled her scent. Fuck. She had a thing for scented oils that weren’t sold at any perfume counter, and every time he inhaled around her, the scent of her rushed to his cock. Yet another reason he’d found excuses to stay away from the office.

“Yes. Next.” He cleared his throat and moved to the open kitchen, just off the living room. “Kitchen to the left. Down the hall to the right, there are two bedrooms plus a shared bathroom between them.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Where’s your studio? There is a studio here, right?”

“There’s a building behind this one. It used to be a small barn. I renovated it. That’s my studio.” He studied her. “Do I pass muster?”

“Only if you can feed me.”

A huge gust of wind blew hard, whistled around the cabin. She shuddered despite the warmth.

“I swear I’ll stay the night. But I promise to get out of your hair tomorrow morning. This storm will bring lots of snow to Mammoth Mountain, and I’m dying to get on the slopes. Fresh powder. What’s not to love?”

“Right. Yes, I can feed you.” He left the rest alone. She hadn’t yet realized she wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. It would all become clear in the morning.

He showed her to the room he usually slept in. “Here, you can have this room. Get settled, then come on out. I have wine.”

“You’re singing my song.” She followed him back to the living room, picked up her suitcase. Gestured to the other two bags. “The two canvas sacks have food. If you could refrigerate the stuff that needs it, I’d appreciate it.”

“Done.”

“Don’t forget to feed me. And drink me. I’m starving, and I definitely need something alcoholic after that drive.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed to her room.

When she disappeared from sight, Logan shook himself and picked up the two cloth grocery bags. “I’m in so much trouble.”

After stashing her perishables in his fridge, he pulled out heavy cream, Parmesan cheese, mozzarella, fresh basil, and some garlic. By the time she came back to the kitchen, divested of the snow suit and wearing jeans and a t-shirt, he had the cheesy garlic cream sauce simmering, and the pasta boiling.

“Wow. Something smells awesome.”

“Sit. Here’s wine. Sorry, it’s not a fruity cocktail designed to wipe your mind clean, but it’s a really good Pinot Noir.”

She took the wine he handed to her, held his hand against the glass for a moment. “I don’t want my mind wiped clean. Anything that happens, I want to remember.”

He released the glass to her and took a breath. “Katherine.”

She hummed. “I love the way you say my name. Like it’s sex in your mouth.” Her eyes flew wide open. “God. I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Logan stirred the furiously boiling noodles. “Tough drive, wasn’t it? Aren’t you glad you don’t have to go anywhere right now?”

The cabin shook again under a windy blast. The fire in the living room roared before settling back down. Katherine sipped her wine, sighed, and leaned her chin on her hand.

“I’m thrilled I don’t have to go anywhere. But are you thrilled with the thought of having me as a guest? I know I’m not your favorite person.”

Logan turned to her in surprise. “That’s not true.”

She snorted. “Right. Which is why you’re always in the office, and I’m constantly tripping over you.” She rolled her eyes and took a deep pull on her wine.

Fuck. He sighed. “Okay. First off, you weren’t wrong today, when you said I stopped coming into the office because of our kiss last year.”

Katherine’s mouth hung open. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Nope. Which brings me to the second issue, My dad taught me employees are not people you sleep with, or have relationships with. They just aren’t. They’re family. So technically, until that kiss last year, I did my best to look at you as just an employee.”

She sputtered wine across the bar, and he wiped it clean. She took a careful breath.

“And now? Do you still look at me as just an employee?”

Logan gazed at the woman who had held his cock in her virtual fist for a year and sighed again. “No. But the problem of your employment still exists. I don’t want you to leave. Ergo, I can’t have you as a lover.”

“Then I quit. Because I want you as a lover.” Without a wasted motion, Katherine launched herself into Logan’s arms, and kissed him.

Logan’s lips latched onto hers as if she were his oxygen. Her full breasts pressed against him and he moaned, wrapped his arms around her waist.

She wiggled against him, opened her mouth, and he fell into a whirlwind of need. Spread one hand across her back and down to her ass. Growled into her mouth.

Katherine pulled back. “That’s so hot. You’re so hot.”

He smoothed the hair out of her eyes. “One thing I demand. Honesty. Don’t say something to me that you think I want to hear. Be honest, always.”

“I honestly want you to fuck me, right now.”

Her eyes were clear and direct, her full breasts pressed against him.

“This isn’t…you’re not going to come back at me and claim rape or anything, are you?”

She jolted back. “God. No. Why would you even go there? No.” She wrapped her arms around her torso. “There’s so much wrong with that.”

Logan took a breath. “You have no idea.”

“But why do you? Because that didn’t sound like you.”

“Not me, but a buddy of mine. He thought they were exclusive. She slapped him with a lawsuit. He lost his job, respect in the industry, everything. I’ve been wary ever since. But that’s enough of the past. What do you want first? Food, or sex?”

She sent him a wry smile and her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry. Food. Then sex. Then maybe more food.”

Because he couldn’t help it, he held his arms out, and she moved into them. Settled her head on his chest as though she’d been doing it for years.

“Food it is.” He kissed her on the forehead, hugged her tight, and released her. “On the menu tonight is Catalonian garlic bread, and cheesy garlic cream sauce over pasta, plus spinach salad. You game?”

She hopped onto the stool at the island. “I’m totally game. What’s not to like?”

Logan turned back to his cooking, grabbed a sourdough baguette and sliced a portion of it off, cut that in half, and put into the toaster oven. The timer dinged, and he drained the pasta before returning it to the pot that held the garlic cream sauce. He stirred it all together, using a wooden spoon.

He plated the pasta, the spinach, and the bread. Atop the bread sat a fat clove of garlic.

When Katherine saw that, she wrinkled her nose in confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Rub it on the bread, like so.” He rubbed the clove of garlic against the toasted bread until the clove was almost gone. “Now drizzle it with olive oil. Then enjoy.”

She did as he did, then bit into the bread. Moaned with pleasure. Dipped it into the cream sauce, tasted, and moaned again.

Logan shifted his gaze away from her mouth. By all rights, that mouth, those lips, belonged on his cock.

Katherine moaned with pleasure throughout the meal, which kept Logan in a state of constant arousal. He barely responded to anything she said.

Another long moan of hers snapped his control. “Stop, I beg you.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Stop what?”

“Those sexy moans. God. I have an erection that won’t quit because of them, and I’d much rather hear you moan with your mouth around my cock, or because my cock is deep inside you.”

Her eyes twinkled wickedly. “Dinner’s over. Time for dessert.” She slid off the stool and went to him. “Turn toward me.”

Logan closed his eyes briefly, wrestled with his conscience, before giving in and turning toward her. “You’re a wet dream come true, you know that?” He hissed out a breath as her hands went straight to his zipper and pulled it down, freed his hard cock that gave proof of the effect she had on him.

She hummed in appreciation. Dragged her finger through the sticky pre-cum at the tip and licked it off, her gaze meeting his. “Delicious.” Without another word she sucked him down her throat.

His head fell back as she worked him, slurping and sucking as though she’d been born to it. He clenched his fists and resisted guiding her head, not wanting to choke her.

“Fuck.” Logan pulled her up to stand in front of him, his cock glistening. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up. Later, maybe. But right now, I need you naked as a jaybird. Strip for me, Katherine.”

He saw the shiver go through her, saw the delight in her eyes.

“I wondered if you’d ask me to do that. If you had asked last year, right there in the middle of the gala, I’d have stripped for you, Logan. My panties were soaked. I went into the bathroom and fingered myself because that kiss was so fucking hot.”

Gods. This woman.

“Then do it. Strip.” He leaned back, folded his arms, and waited.

With her sly smile, and lipstick still in place, she stripped her shirt off with no fanfare. Her bra was sheer red lace, her big tits were round and creamy under the lace, and her stiff nipples poked out through the fabric. She took one strap down, then the other, before turning around.

She shook her ass at him, and unhooked her bra. Dropped it to the floor. Facing him once more, she lifted her breasts to him, her nipples fat, the areolae a dark pink.

Logan’s mouth watered. “Come here.”

When she reached him, her breasts still cupped in her hands, he drew her closer, hands on her waist, and sucked one nipple, while tweaking the other, pinching and pulling. Her squeals and moans let him know he was on the right track.

He let go of her nipple with a last lick and met her gaze. “You’re wet, aren’t you? I can smell you. Take off your shoes and socks, and then your jeans and panties.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Take off your sweater.”

Her throaty voice made his cock twitch. “You first.”

She grinned and took a step away from him. Bending at the waist, she reached down to unzip her half boots and take them off, her ass high in the air.

He accepted her invitation and spanked that ass. She squealed and wiggled. “Faster.”

The other shoe, both her socks, and her jeans were off in record time. She panted and giggled and stood bare before him, a faint blush across her chest that rose to her cheeks.

God, she was beautiful. He stood, brushed a finger down her chest to the slight rise of her belly, before dipping down between her legs. She parted them, held his gaze, and he pushed his finger into her sopping pussy.

She moaned. He pulled his finger out, added another finger, and pushed back into her. “Damn. You’re so damn wet.”

“And you’ve got too many clothes on, baby.”

He pulled his hand out of her, licked his fingers clean. “And you taste good.” He stripped his clothes off and left them where they were. He held out a hand. “Come on.”