Zara could hardly believe the man in her bed was the Aaron she knew and despised. Every trace of the all-work-no-play finance guy was gone.

He’d removed her bikini briefs quickly and took his time taking off her top. He devoured her naked body with his gaze before his hands and mouth joined the party.

She imagined the gears turning in that artist brain of his. Breaking down the pencil strokes and the shading needed to capture her image. Never in her life had she felt so feminine, beautiful, and desired.

His thumbs teased her nipples, and he kissed a trail from her collarbone to her breasts. At the office he’d always been clean shaven, but his cheeks and chin were rough with the slightest scratch of scruff, adding a delicious roughness.

His hands moved lower, and he explored what the Cubs panties had hidden.

“Strip,” she demanded. While she loved the feel of his fingers, she wanted him deep inside her. “I need to make sure you’re not hiding any White Sox swag.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The slightest hint of a Southern drawl tinged his words. He shrugged out of his soft gray cotton boxers and t-shirt. His lanky frame made her feel petite even though she was on the tall side for a woman.

She gaped at his toned torso and the happy trail that led to his erection.

The guy was a work of art in his own right. If only she possessed the talent to sketch his likeness. The best she could do was brainstorm a million scenarios in which he was a video game hero.

She stroked his silky hardness, and he let out a moan.

Usually, she let the man take the lead in bed, but he’d have his turn another time. All of her forbidden fantasies of cracking the hard shell he kept around his heart demanded she be the aggressor.

Marveling at how different he seemed with his guard down, she straddled him. She caressed his jaw line and over the worry crinkles on his forehead before tracing his lips.

He reached for her breasts, and tenderness shifted to raw lust.

She leaned down to kiss him and ran her hands over every inch of him within reach.

Panting, she ripped open the packet, slid the condom over his length, and eased his cock inside her.

Never breaking eye contract, she moved her hips to draw him in and out, and he thrust to meet her.

She moved off him and onto her back. Taking the cue, he moved on top. The new position allowed him to drive deeper and brought her to a soul shaking orgasm.

Unable to stop touching him, she caressed his back, his chest, and his fine ass. Goosebumps broke out across his skin and his hips bucked. His release brought her another orgasm.

“You must really love Yolanda to get a tattoo of her on your hip.” He chuckled as he gathered her to him, becoming the big spoon to her little one.

“She’s definitely my spirit animal. Don’t tell Cheryl.”

“It will be our secret,” he said.

In Aaron’s embrace, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

She awoke alone, shivering. All the warmth Aaron had brought was gone. Coldness seemed to crawl inside her until she noticed the drawing propped on the nightstand. The sketch of Licorice made the warm, fuzzy feeling from the previous night return.

She clutched the picture to her chest and rewound the mental tape of their love making. One night with Aaron meant more to her than countless hookups with Warren. They were sworn enemies at work, but she’d developed deep feelings for the guy he was outside of the office. The kind of feelings that could turn into love.

Together, she and Aaron had the potential to be an unstoppable team.

She dressed and headed downstairs. Cheryl and Aaron were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. If her boss wasn’t there, she’d be tempted to drag Aaron under the cheesy plastic mistletoe and kiss the breath out of him. She walked over to him and touched his shoulder.

He stiffened.

She stepped away to pour herself a cup of coffee and searched for some sign of the tenderness from the night before, but she found none. He didn’t have to declare his undying love, but she needed an acknowledgement that she hadn’t imagined the sex.

She hoped he hadn’t taken a sleeping pill, sleepwalked to her loft, and didn’t remember having his wicked way with her. Sleepwalking she could buy, even sleep-shopping and sleep-eating, but not sleep-screwing. He had to remember what happened.

Unable to initiate the conversation in front of Cheryl, she decided to take a shower. She emerged to find Aaron gone.

“He’s up at the main lodge, working out the bill.” Cheryl tapped the folder. “I think it best for us to cut the trip short.”

“But what about my pitch?”

“I looked though the project summaries you prepared.” Cheryl nodded at Zara’s folder. “We’ve agreed to move forward with six of the twelve projects. Wondrous Worlds is on hold pending an investigation to determine how much you leaked about the game to the media.”

Zara’s heart pounded. “What do you mean?”

Cheryl tapped her computer and brought up images of Zara wearing her Yolanda cosplay costume at Comicon.

Zara’s vision went red.

Aaron must have ratted her out to Cheryl. The thought of him hooking up with her to sample the goods before she got fired made the coffee she drank swirl around in her stomach. She scoured her memories trying to piece together a picture to get a sense of Aaron’s feelings for her. Each of his actions seemed to contradict the last. She couldn’t decipher his mixed messages. With his strange behavior, she had no choice but to assume the worst.

“Yolanda the Warrior Mage is property of Windy City Gaming,” Cheryl said. “Creating merchandise and leaking information about the character at a public event violates company policy.”

“I didn’t leak anything, and I didn’t sell any merchandise. Last year, the whole marketing team dressed up as cyborgs for Comicon in honor of the Future Folly game, which was part of the end of the year launch.”

“That was different. They were generic cyborgs, not specific characters. You dressed as Yolanda. She’s one of the key characters.”

“Only a couple of people asked who I was supposed to be and I never said anything about the video game.” Zara’s voice broke. “The guys in the cyborg costumes wore hats with the game logo.”

“I authorized the hats.”

“I’m sorry. I’d never knowingly violate company policy.” Zara went cold thinking of how Cheryl would react if she knew about the Yolanda tattoo.

“That is no excuse. Get your things. There’s a car waiting outside to drive you home. You can stop by the office on the day after Christmas to pack your belongings and sign the severance paperwork.”

Zara climbed the ladder to her loft and switched out her underwear for one of the Cubs pairs. She shoved all of her belongings into her bag. After careful consideration, she added the drawing of Licorice. If nothing else, she wanted the picture as a consolation prize. A reminder of her mistakes and Aaron’s betrayal.

Outside, the freezing temperature made her exhalations visible. She loaded her luggage and climbed into the back seat of the warm car.

The driver asked for her address, but otherwise left her alone with her thoughts on the ride to Chicago. She wasn’t going to wait until the New Year to make resolutions. She’d give up betraying bastards along with sweets.

Willy Wonka could keep his candy. Heck, he could shove it up his tight ass.