Jingle Ball: More the Merrier Read online

  Jingle Ball

  More the Merrier

  Taryn Quinn

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  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Jingle Ball

  © 2018 Taryn Quinn

  Rainbow Rage Publishing

  Cover by: LateNite Designs

  Photo by: Hot Damn Stock

  All Rights Are Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Second ebook edition: Taryn Quinn, November 2018

  First ebook edition: November 2012

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  About This Book

  This year, rocking the office holiday party has taken on a whole new meaning.

  All receptionist Wendy Stanton wants for Christmas is a chance for a relationship with her sexy, sweet, dominant boss, Des. When that chance comes, she gets a whole lot more from the bargain than she’d anticipated—mainly a few steamy, mind-blowing encounters that include her other equally sexy boss, Cole Warner. Her body enjoys every bit of their attention, but her heart still wants more. She wants Des outside of the boardroom and the bedroom and in her life for good. But he’s hiding secrets and she’s hiding her feelings, and soon they’re drifting farther apart instead of growing closer.

  But if anything can get them to come together, it’s Christmas Eve…

  In this book, sex and candy is not an euphemism. And some of the ornaments from the tree have more than one use...just sayin'. Oh, and boys touch in this story. Often.

  Jingle Ball was originally published in 2012. It has been re-edited and now includes an epilogue.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Unwrapped

  Oblivion Series

  The Boss

  Taryn Quinn

  Cari Quinn

  Taryn Elliott

  About Taryn Quinn

  One

  Wendy Stanton picked up a length of multi-colored garland and sighed. Red, blue and green garland wasn’t classy enough for Martin & Warner Real Estate’s annual Jingle Ball. The event was the biggest schmoozer they held all year and lots of rich, important guests would attend. They’d already decided the color scheme would be silver and blue, so the decoration she’d picked up on a whim would just have to go.

  She wrapped the garland around her neck and turned toward the full wall of glass behind her boss Des’s desk. She thrust out a hip and grabbed a long, narrow notepad, using it as a microphone. Then she rocked out, dirty Christmas style. She didn’t remember the lyrics to the song on the radio so she fudged them, making them up as she went along. Her husky voice wouldn’t win any awards, but she vamped it up, pushing a hand behind her head and wiggling her butt.

  Behind her, someone cleared their throat. Wendy spun around and dropped the notebook, her eyes going wide at her boss lounging in the doorway. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his snug, faded jeans, and he wore a gray silk shirt and striped tie that offset his golden skin.

  And he was smirking.

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt your concert, Ms. Stanton.” His voice was as warm and rich as the java he walked over to dispense from his personal coffeemaker. He preferred an expensive Costa Rican blend, the best of the best. Just as he preferred top of the line in everything in his life, from clothes, to office space, to girlfriends. She still wondered how she’d slunk into his office almost a year ago when his secretary had quit on short notice.

  Des desperate was a mouth-watering sight to behold.

  Fine, he was mouth-watering regardless. He had the kind of spiky dark hair that always stuck up in all directions and his eyes were a bright blue-green she’d only ever seen in the waters of the Caribbean. And his body?

  Not. Going. There.

  “Song’s over,” she said with a shrug, picking up the notebook she’d dropped. Feigning calm around him wasn’t anything new, considering she’d had a crush on him pretty much since the first moment she’d stepped into his swanky office. He’d asked her what she considered her strongest skill and she’d been tempted to say sucking cock, just to see if she’d get a chance at his.

  Instead she’d gone with the safe answer of her one hundred words per minute typing speed.

  That she’d inquired about the job advertised in the window wearing a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, with her hair held back by an assortment of bobby pins and paper clips—hey, she’d been out grocery shopping before she’d wandered past the office—hadn’t ruined her chances as she’d feared. He’d called to hire her the next day.

  They’d had a cordial, utterly frustrating relationship since.

  “So it is. But as it’s a radio station,” Des gestured with his coffee cup at the sleek wall unit currently playing another Christmas classic, “they keep playing them. Keep singing.”

  If she was anyone else, she’d probably hurry to obey the command in his tone. Though they were both barely thirty, Des and his best friend Cole Warner had one of the most successful real estate businesses in Eugene, New York, a decent-sized city just outside the one that never slept. They’d climbed far and fast, and that meant they weren’t strangers to making demands and ensuring they were met.

  She suspected that was true in the bedroom too. Not that she knew firsthand. Both men were nothing but professional to their secretaries. Unfortunately.

  It wasn’t as if she could tell Des she wasn’t a lawsuit waiting to happen. Nor was she trying to climb the corporate ladder, unless it led straight up to the eye-popping bulge in his pants. But that was just her fantasies talking. She wasn’t that girl.

  Those jewel-like blue-green eyes stared her down, and like a fool, she began to sing into the notebook. She had to look ridiculous with her garland and her steno microphone, but he leaned back against the wall and watched her, seemingly riveted.

  Yet again she didn’t know the words to the song, so she improvised. A smile began at the corners of his mouth, creeping inward until it turned into a full-blown grin. He set aside the coffee and clapped, the width of his hands catching her attention for the umpteenth time before her gaze skipped to his face.

  His smirk returned. Did he know what she was thinking?

  Forget that, did she know what she was thinking? He was her boss. He signed her paycheck and ponied up for the fancy health benefits that even allowed her to cover her ailing mom too. The extra expense was significant, but Des hadn’t blinked when she’d explained her mom’s heart condition and her search for affordable health care since her mom wasn’t old enough for Medicare. He shelled out a ton of extra dough each month, and she couldn’t afford to fuck that up just to…

  Fuck.

  “You’re a very creative lyricist, Wendy.” His smirk disappeared behind his coffee cup as he drank.

  And yes, she watched his throat move. And yes, she did get wet. Could’ve been due to her new thong. The satin panel tended to rub her just the right way.

  As right as her vibrator would need to rub her after work if she had any hopes o
f getting through the holidays without making a very big mistake. Otherwise she just might end up using her garland to bind Des to his desk chair so she could have her jolly way with him.

  “It’s more fun to make up the words.” She tugged off her rainbow garland and snatched a couple of strands of blue-and-silver. “Especially when I get drunk. You’d die if you heard some of what I come up with then.”

  “I’d like to.”

  She glanced at him, frowning, but he’d turned away to pour more coffee. The guy was a hardcore caffeine junkie, drinking the stuff like some men swigged beer. Though he might do that too. She didn’t know him outside of work.

  “I don’t drink that often.” Wincing at the unexpected loudness of her voice, she bit the inside of her cheek and wound the garland strands together to create a thick, glittery rope. She’d finished her dictation early and hoped to decorate a good portion of Des’s office before she had to get back on the phones when the other receptionist, Vanessa, went to lunch.

  The big party was tonight and they had a lot to do to make the place festive. The sprawling Victorian that served as the base for Martin & Warner had been remodeled to look like standard office space, but by this evening, the huge conference room would be set up for dancing, and the reception area would contain enough food for a small army. Van had worked there for three years and she’d set up her share of Christmas parties. Apparently Des and Cole spared no expense for the gathering.

  Noticing Des hadn’t replied, Wendy looked up to find him studying her silently while he mainlined his coffee. It was disconcerting to say the least, and she was tempted to start singing and dancing again to try to alleviate the odd tension in the room.

  “I imagine you don’t go out partying too often. You’re too responsible to leave your mom on her own all night long, aren’t you?”

  Rather than reply, she examined the garland she’d continued to twist until shards of blue and silver littered his pristine navy carpet.

  She’d probably told him too much about her personal life. But she’d only arrived in town last fall and hadn’t known a soul outside of her aunt. After Wendy’s dad had died unexpectedly last year, her mom hadn’t been the same so they’d moved from Chattanooga to be closer to Aunt Gert. Wendy had wanted her surviving parent to be near family, especially considering Noreen’s own heart problems.

  So they’d uprooted themselves and moved north—and Wendy had found herself confiding in her surprisingly compassionate boss. He’d listened without offering advice she didn’t want, and he’d helped as much as he could. Just offering them health insurance had alleviated the bulk of her stress.

  Her loneliness…well, that was a different story.

  “You’re the most responsible twenty-four year old I’ve ever met,” he continued, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you sure there’s not an eighty-year-old woman hiding in there?”

  His teasing defrosted her sudden freeze. “In this lingerie?” She gestured at herself, though he obviously couldn’t see what she meant. “Doubtful.”

  He chuckled and reached over to open a packet of sugar, stirring it into his coffee. Weird. Hadn’t he already drank half of it? Unless he was developing a sweet tooth.

  “Did Daniel Jenkins call?” he asked, and just like that, they were back to work.

  No more singing, drinking or lingerie talk. A good thing, she mused later on at her desk, giving her jingle bell earrings a twirl as she considered the reception area. The tree in corner was done up in silver and blue as requested, the boughs dripping with icicles and each branch weighed down with unique ornaments. There were four small trees in the place, along with a huge towering real fir in the conference room.

  That morning, a grinning Cole had dragged out the box of ornaments from the attic and unveiled them for Van, Des and Wendy. Van and Des had oohed and aahed then rolled their eyes behind his back, but Wendy had been genuinely impressed with the collection. Most were from the multi-pack boxes found at any retail outlet, with a few unusual ones that gave the trees character.

  She sighed and played with her earring again. She and her mom had been forced to leave a lot of their ornaments behind in Tennessee due to the cost of moving, though she’d saved some of her favorites. They were still tucked in tissue paper, waiting for her to get over her holiday blues long enough to unpack them and do up their tree right.

  Her mom needed that. She needed it.

  Until then, she’d vowed to enjoy decorating the office. She and Van had laughed throughout the afternoon, despite this Christmas being a lot different than others in her past. Back when she’d had two healthy parents and a hometown she loved. When she’d had friends and knew interested guys if she wanted to date…or more, if the urge struck.

  Something it was doing now. A lot.

  “Hey girl.” Van popped around the half-wall sectioning off Wendy’s cubicle and grinned. “You still here? I thought you’d be home getting ready by now.”

  Wendy blew out the cinnamon candle flickering on her desk and faked a smile. “Just about to head out. I had a few letters to finish up for Des. You know how he is, the taskmaster.”

  “Oh, am I?” Des appeared behind Van, his big hands cupping her shoulders. Her short blond curls bounced around her face as she hurriedly made room for him at her side. “And here the taskmaster dragged himself from his endless piles of work just to make sure you two ladies had gone home. Guess I shouldn’t have bothered.”

  Van immediately transitioned into full-on flirt mode. “Oh, Des. You’re the best boss ever.”

  “Even if he’s not technically your boss?” Wendy propped her chin on her hand and smiled as widely as she could when jealousy gripped her throat.

  Stupid. She knew Van and Des were just friends—at least she was reasonably sure—but whenever Van switched her hardcore flirting from Cole to Des, Wendy’s claws sprouted. She liked Van. She just didn’t want her crawling all over Des too much, at least not where she could see it.

  He slung an arm around Van’s waist and tossed Wendy a grin. “Hey, I sign the checks for everybody around here. Including that clown in the office behind you.” He strode to the wall behind Wendy’s desk and rapped. Cole grunted from the next room.

  After the ornament show-and-tell, he’d retreated to work on some big deal he had in the pipeline for an office complex in nearby Jasper. As easygoing as Cole seemed most of the time, he busted his ass night and day to keep the business running smoothly. So did Des. It was amazing either of them found time for a social life.

  Don’t need a ton of time to screw.

  Wendy’s chin slipped off her hand at that errant thought and she had to grab the desk to keep from tipping out of her chair. Des shot her a look, but she just kept smiling. That was her, perky twenty-four/seven. As perky as the breasts she could state with virtual certainty were waving hello to Des, even if he was oblivious.

  She hoped he was oblivious. Jeez.

  “Think I better get out of here.” Wendy took out her purse from her bottom drawer and rose to grab her jacket. She flashed another smile and turned to her co-workers, her thoughts vanishing at the sight of Des’s outstretched hand. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “Let me.”

  Sure she was flushing, she handed over her coat and allowed him to help her into it. “See you soon?” he asked once she faced him.

  “Yes.” This time her smile was genuine. To make up for her jealous harpy routine, she made sure it encompassed Van too. “I’ll be back shortly, y’all. I can’t wait.”

  Two

  Des pulled on his tie and stared out his window, his focus centered on the small figure hurrying up the street in the lightly falling snow. Wendy always insisted on walking the few blocks to and from work, claiming she enjoyed the exercise, but he knew it was because she didn’t want to waste gas or put more miles on her beat-up car. She was a penny-pincher in the extreme. Considering the financial toll her father’s death had put on her family, he understood.

  “Watc
hing to make sure she gets home okay?”

  Cole’s voice made him grip the windowsill. “I can’t see all the way to her house.”

  “But you keep her in sight for as long as you can.”

  Admitting what Cole already knew would cause it to be more real somehow, so Des just narrowed his eyes until the darkness swallowed Wendy’s cheerful red coat. Then he let out a long breath. Relief, maybe, mixed with a healthy dose of longing.

  And lots of fucking frustration.

  A loud exhale preceded the unmistakable sound of Cole slumping in the chair opposite Des’s desk. “Are you ever going to, you know, do something about it?”

  Though he knew very well what Cole meant, he played dumb. And mute.

  “What if she meets someone, Des? Then what?”

  Des hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. He’d wondered that many times himself, and he never came up with a good answer. They worked together. She wasn’t his in any shape or form. If she found someone, he’d wish her well.

  All right, maybe not.

  Truth was, if he’d ever met a woman who more deserved to be taken care of and worshipped, he didn’t remember it. She was so capable and strong, but she shouldn’t have to be. Not every minute. Not when he knew he was the right man to show her the freedom in occasionally giving up control.

  Except he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.