CHAPTER TWO

Thick, white flakes hit Jace’s windshield as he slowly drove toward home through the city. He loved the consuming quiet that came with a snowfall. Not to mention the way the drop in temperature made him feel more alive than ever.

He’d never been a person who tolerated the heat very well. He’d rather take a vacation to a ski lodge and do some back country downhill than lie on a beach as the enormous ball of fire in the sky slowly roasted him.

His building came into view and he hit the automatic door opener for his underground parking garage. He was just renting his apartment downtown, but it was a nice unit. There was a gym in the building and he had a slightly obscured view of the harbor.

The woman in his passenger seat started to laugh. “This is where you live?”

His hackles tickled the nape of his neck.

What was wrong with this place?

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “That a problem? ”

Peyton shook her head, a playful glitter in her eyes. “No. But I literally live right there.” She pointed to the apartment building across the street. “Eighteenth floor. You can see my window from here.”

Jace’s body temperature returned to a cool ninety-eight-point-six, and he grinned. “No kidding?”

“We’re neighbors.”

“Seems—”

“Convenient,” she finished.

“I was going to say, a coincidence, but your word works, too. So, now I’ll ask, your place or mine?”

She bit her bottom lip again. “My place is a mess.”

“Mine it is, then.” He drove down into the garage, the orange glow of the overhead lights leading him to his assigned stall.

He backed his truck in, which was a tight fit between the Chevy Tahoe and the Toyota Sequoia. A pang of envy flashed through him. The row of vehicles across from him was full of mid-sized sedans and compact cars. There were even two SMART cars parked there. And yet, they thought it was fine to shove all the big vehicles together. It was only a matter of time before one of them got a dent in their door.

“On second thought,” he said with a pause. “Why don’t you hop out before I back in? It’s a tight squeeze and I don’t want you to risk knocking the other vehicles with the door.” He pulled ahead and Peyton hopped out, then he backed in properly. He had to hold his breath and nearly got his cock lopped off it was such a precarious wedging out of his door, but he emerged at the grill victorious and with all his body parts intact.

“You need to put in for a different parking space,” Peyton said, eying the pathetically small space between Jace’s truck and the Sequoia.

“I have. Many times.”

She wrinkled her face. “That’s a bummer. ”

“I’m barely home right now, so it’s not that big of a deal.” He looped his arm over her shoulder. “This way, m’lady.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist. “Lead the way, Officer …” Then she glanced up at him. “I should probably know your last name before we … you know.”

He grinned down at her. “It’s Shepherd.”

“All right then. Lead the way, Officer Shepherd.”

They reached the elevator and stepped inside. Even though she had her white fake fur shawl over her forest-green dress, she gave a little shiver.

Ever the gentleman his mama raised him to be, Jace slipped the jacket of his serge off his shoulders and draped it over hers. It nearly hit the ground. It was so big on her.

“Damn, you’re big,” she exhaled, marveling at how his serge swamped her frame.

“Always love to hear that from a woman’s lips.”

She snorted and rolled her pretty gray eyes. “What floor are you on?”

“Twelfth.”

They rode the elevator to his floor in silence, but the tension crackling around them was tangible. The stolen glances and coy smiles had his cock surging to life in his pants, and his lower belly grew warm. They’d already kissed several times—and she was a great kisser. He could only imagine she was also great at other things, too.

When the elevator stopped and dinged, the doors slid open. Given the time of day—or night, for that matter—he wasn’t expecting to find anybody waiting for the elevator, let alone on his floor.

Peyton let out a little squeak of surprise when a man Jace didn’t recognize took a sudden step back so they could exit first.

“Hello,” the man said, his voice deep and scratchy.

“Hello,” Jace greeted, suspicion rising through him like an incoming tide .

The man stepped onto the elevator, bringing with him two large Christmas gift bags. He stared at the ground, his hoodie pulled up over his head and obscuring his face. “Have a good night.”

Jace nodded and did his very best, honing into his skills to take in every bit of physical description he could about the man before the doors closed. Blue eyes. Tall. Muscular. Probably as big as Jace but maybe not quite as big as the Harty Boys. But he was no slouch, either. Late twenties or early thirties. Dark gray hoodie, black jeans. Motorcycle boots. And the most memorable feature: a big brown birthmark on the left side of his jaw in the shape of an almond and maybe twice as big.

He had no idea why he felt compelled to memorize the man’s appearance, but he did.

And something about that birthmark niggled familiarly at the back of Jace’s brain.

The building was huge, and Jace was a busy man, but he knew nearly all his neighbors. And he didn’t know this guy.

However, it was also Christmas, so perhaps the guy was just visiting a friend. Peyton wasn’t a resident of the building, either, after all. And the man had gift bags with him. It was probably just a friend of a resident and they exchanged gifts.

But Jace’s spidey sense was rarely ever wrong and there was just something weird about this guy that rubbed Jace in the wrong kind of way.

“You okay?” Peyton’s voice and a squeeze of her arm around him made Jace snap back to reality. That’s when he realized they’d stopped in the hallway and were just staring straight ahead at the closed elevator door.

Jace cleared his head and grinned down at the striking redhead. “Totally. Come on.” He spun them around and led her down the corridor toward his unit.

The hair on the back of his neck still stuck up and the hollow sensation in his belly had him telling Peyton to stay in the hallway while he unlocked his unit, flicked on all the lights and slowly stepped inside. He didn’t have a big apartment. It was only one bedroom. Maybe seven-hundred square feet in total. So it took only a minute to scan the entire thing for any threats, determine there was none, and go back to the hallway to get Peyton.

“Do you always do this when you get home?” she asked with concern as she slowly followed him into his apartment.

“No.”

“Then …”

“Something about that guy,” he said plainly, unable to shake the weird feeling coursing through him. “It was probably nothing, but I got a weird vibe from him.”

“He’s not a neighbor?”

He shook his head, went to the fridge, and grabbed a beer. “No. At least not one I recognize. And I’ve made a point of getting to know nearly everyone.”

He offered the beer to her, but she shook her head. “No, thank you. Perhaps the guy was just visiting friends. It is Christmas Eve, after all.”

“Yeah …” He wandered over to a small console table against the wall, which was where he kept his harder liquor. “Night cap?”

“I’ll have a gin on ice, please.”

His head bobbed, and he went to work getting her her drink. Once they both had their libations, he followed her to the big floor-to-ceiling windows in his living room that looked out onto the city and his peak-a-boo view of the harbor. “Your view is probably better, eh?”

There was a smile in her voice when she answered. “Maybe a little.”

He finished his beer and set the bottle down on his coffee table, then stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly sliding the faux fur shawl down over her arms until it slid to the floor. She’d removed his coat upon entering his place and draped it over the arm of his couch. His lips pressed against her warm shoulder. “I didn’t mean to spook you. And I certainly didn’t mean to sour the mood. But I understand if you’d rather I just walk you home. ”

Since it was night out, he could see her reaction in the window’s reflection. She glanced down at her gin before taking a sip, then lifted her gaze, pinning it on him in the reflection. “When is your birthday?”

He definitely wasn’t expecting her to say that.

He liked her unpredictability.

As a man who liked predictability and consistency, who gravitated toward calm and peace rather than chaos and unrest, he normally preferred to know what was coming. But he also liked a little spice in his life, a little excitement—albeit benign excitement. As the voice of reason and the peacekeeper in his family, he’d considered, for a time, going into law—specifically mediation. That was until he found his true calling, which was the RCMP or Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

“October third,” he said, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. “Why? When’s yours?”

It was impossible to miss the flare in her eyes when he told her his birthday, or the soft parting of her lips and the quiet sudden inhale. “You’re a Libra,” she whispered.

Jace frowned. “Guess so. Is that a problem?”

She shook her head and her smile grew big. “Not. At. All.”

“No?” Spinning her around, he took her glass from her, which was empty, and set it down on his coffee table before looping his arms around her waist. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m a Gemini and our signs are very compatible. It also makes total sense why you’re a police officer.”

“It does, does it?”

“Mhmm.” Her arms traveled up around his neck. “You’re a peacekeeper. You prefer harmony and justice. Have a strong moral compass and deep compassion.”

Well, hot damn. He’d never really believed in any of the astrological mumbo jumbo, but so far, everything she was saying about his star sign was right.

There had to be a catch, though.

For every positive trait, there had to be a negative one, too.

He waited for the other shoe to drop.

“And Venus rules you in the seventh house. I only know this because my dad’s birthday is October ninth”

Okay, he had absolutely no idea what that meant. Venus ruled in his seventh house? It sounded like another language.

His expression must have conveyed such because she grinned. “Your ruling planet indicates the what . While your ruling house indicates the where . So in your case, as a Libra, your what are values, possessions and the relating process. What you want and how you attract it.”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder. “I think it’s pretty easy to tell what I want.”

Her smiled turned coy. “And your ruling house is the where . So in your case, the descendent sign and planets occupying the seventh house tell us about how we select our partners, and describes the partnerships and relationships we seek. Often, we are involuntarily attracted to people whose zodiac signs carry a strong emphasis of the sign in our seventh house.”

He wasn’t really following, but he liked her passion. And he liked the aspect of knowing what he wanted and how he would be attracted to it.

“As a Libra and ruled by Venus, you have a tendency to be indecisive, though, right?”

Yes, yes he could be. As a kid he missed out on several things because he couldn’t make up his mind. He missed the deadline signing up for soccer and lacrosse because he couldn’t decide. He also missed out on a school field trip to a Canuck’s game because he couldn’t make up his mind whether he wanted to go to the game, or skiing with his cousins. He ended up missing out on both.

“And your quest for harmony can lead to analysis paralysis, where you just don’t decide because neither choice will strike the right balance.” That was also true. “You’re also a serial monogamist. You’re in relationships for the long-game. One-night stands and playing the field aren’t your jam. You like to be organized, and that kind of lifestyle doesn’t fit with your need for harmony and balance.”

That made him crack a smile. “You been talking to my mother or something?”

“No. I just know a lot about astrology. And I know even more about my compatible star signs.”

“So you’re a Gemini?”

“Mhmm.”

“And that’s the twins? So do you have like two personalities or something?”

Her chuckle was a practiced one because she’d probably heard his lame line a hundred times before. He cringed at that thought. Normally, he was better with the jokes, but that guy at the elevator threw Jace off his game. “More like, I’m the ultimate communicator. My twins are chatty. So am I. Communication is numero uno for me. I form connections through dialogue. I don’t play games, but I’m playful.”

“Good to know.”

“I’ve got a lot of energy, and I adapt easily to new situations.”

“So far, I’m hearing only good things. What’s a negative trait for a Gemini? There’s got to be at least one.”

She sighed and her eyes turned soft before she glanced away. “We can be gossipy and flirty. Which I am. We can also speak before we think—which is something I’m working hard on.”

“We all have room for improvement somewhere. My indecisiveness for starters.”

“And having so much energy can get me into trouble. I’m working on slowing down and enjoying the little things in life a bit more. I get bored and restless easily. Workin’ on that, too. Rayma’s got me joining her yoga class at her gym. It’s in a hot room, so sometimes all I can think about is how freaking hot I am, or how badly I need to wipe the sweat running into my eyes. It keeps me from thinking about other things. Then there’s breath work and meditation, too. I still struggle with that.”

“Over-active mind?”

Her smile was sweet. “Little bit. If one twin isn’t thinking, the other one is.”

“At least you’re never lonely.”

Her breathy laugh stirred embers of arousal deep in his belly. “Oh, believe me, growing up as an only child, my twins had imaginary friends of their own, so did I. It was a regular ol’ party when I served tea. Everyone interrupting each other, arguing over the Earl Grey and the finger sandwiches served by my stuffed panda toy, Mrs. Fluffbottom.”

Jace snorted and his smile hurt his cheeks. “Mrs. Fluffbottom?”

She nodded. “Yeah. She was a very loyal servant. Wore a black and white maid’s outfit and everything.”

“Aren’t panda’s black and white already?”

She had a single dimple on her right side that came out when she smiled as wide as she was now.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips there. “I’d love to meet Mrs. Fluffbottom one day. Do you think she’d approve of me?” His mouth meandered from her dimple, across her jaw and down her neck as he pushed her forward until her butt hit the window.

“She’s gotten crotchety in her old age, but I know all she’s ever wanted is for me to be happy. I think she’d like you. Especially since you’re a Libra and a man of honor.”

“What do the stars say about Libra’s in the bedroom?” His hands skimmed down her sides, then up to cup her breasts.

He trailed his mouth back up her neck and kissed her smile.

“You’re all about balance. Those scales rule your life. But you’re also a giver.”

“Oh, baby, do I ever like to give.”

“You’re all about foreplay. ”

“Love it.” He peppered kisses across the other side of her jaw and down her throat. Slowly, his hands worked their way behind her and found the top of the zipper for her dress.

“And you’re a big communicator in bed. You’re not afraid to say exactly what you want.”

He pulled down the zipper. “No harm in asking.”

Her dress loosened from her body and when he stepped back just a touch, it fell to the ground in a pool of forest green at her feet, leaving her in a sexy black strapless bra and matching thong. She still had on her black heels, too. He’d always loved the way a woman’s legs looked in heels. The way they made her calves pop, and the feel of a heel digging into his ass cheek during sex, was something he sometimes found himself craving.

Living up to the reputation of his star sign, he slowly sunk down to his knees, pressing kisses to the top swell of each breast, her ribs, her belly, the tops of her thighs and inner knees. Lifting up one leg, he trailed his hand from her heel to the apex of her thighs, tracing the path with his nose, and pulling her feminine scent deep into his lungs .

He made sure she knew to keep her foot on his shoulder as he inched forward, moved her thong to the side and flicked her clit with his tongue.

Her sharp inhale made him smile.

He did it again. Only this time, she responded with a low moan and a gentle push forward of her hips, welcoming him.

He took the gesture for what it was and dove in, swirling his tongue around her clit and loving the way she was already wet for him. Two fingers found her core, and he pushed them inside, curling upward and enjoying the way she squeezed around him and bucked into his face.

Her clit swelled against his tongue and her fingers wove their way into his hair, tugging just enough to make him grunt from the tingles of threatened pain. But it was the kind of pain he liked. Just enough to remind him he was alive. Just enough to send sharp zaps down to his balls.

His cock strained against his dress pants, but he didn’t care. He’d deal with that later. Right now, his focus was on the enchanting Peyton and her cute little red landing strip. He didn’t care if a woman was shaved, waxed, lasered, or sporting a bush. Hair was normal, and it was all about personal preference. But he had to admit, Peyton’s perfectly landscaped strip was very enticing. He pressed his nose into the hair and inhaled deeply, loving her unique feminine scent and the way it made his cock get even thicker.

He went back to his task of sucking her clit and finger fucking her tight little pussy. She wasn’t going to last long, he could already tell. She was trying so hard to keep a rhythm as she rode his face, but as she drew closer to her finish line, she was losing her cadence. It was cute. And a part of him wanted to see just how crazy and erratic he could make her.

A sexy little whimper from the woman above made him smile as he swept the flat of his tongue over her clit.

“Oh god.”

He did it again.

Her legs trembled.

He did it again.

“J-Jace … I … Oh god.” Her fingers tightened in his hair. Her knees wobbled and when he glanced up her body to check out her expression, he wasn’t disappointed. She was biting her bottom lip, and her head was tossed back against the window.

Her lower belly muscles were tight as she tried as hard as she could to hold on. But the longer she clenched everything—including her pussy muscles around his fingers—the more he saw it as a challenge to get her to break. To push her over that edge.

Pulling his fingers free, he moved his face lower and thrust his tongue into her channel, fucking her that way. His thumb found her clit and wiggled back and forth.

“Oh … god.” Now her entire body shook. “Y-yes. Oh god. I’m going to —”

And then she did.

And she broke so beautifully.

Her cries of pleasure we uninhibited and at full volume, and the way she ground herself down on his face said she wasn’t holding back at all. She was there fully and completely for the pleasure he wielded. Sweet honey poured from her pussy and across his tongue. He drank her down as fast as he could. Accepting every drop of what she offered.

Her body rippled and her muscles contracted with each new wave of her climax, but no matter what, the hold she had on his hair remained firm. She wasn’t letting go of him. He wasn’t allowed to move from his spot between her legs until the last drop was consumed, and the last tremor of her release was spent.

There was nowhere else he’d rather be, anyway.

Eventually, she returned to earth and released his hair, apologizing for nearly snatching him bald.

“I think I could rock being bald, don’t you?” he said, kissing her inner thigh before helping her set her foot down on the floor from his shoulder.

She wobbled a little and used his shoulder to steady herself. “I think you could pull it off better than Chase and Rex.” He stood up, and she ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair again. “But you do have a gorgeous head of hair. I don’t see baldness in your future.”

“No. But I’ll go gray early. All the men in my family have. Both sides, too. Nobody is bald, but everybody is gray.”

“Stress of the job won’t help with that.” She smiled. “You’ll look sexy as a silver fox, though.”

Taking her hand and helping her step out of her dress, he led her through his apartment and into his bedroom, then his bathroom, where he turned on his walk-in steam shower. “I might have something that can remove makeup.” He dug under his bathroom sink and pulled out a face wash his sister bought him years ago when he was getting a bit of adult acne. He soon realized that it was the protein powder he took that that made him break out. Now, he severely limited his dairy intake. He handed it to her. “Will this work? It says it can remove makeup.”

With that same sweet smile as before, she accepted the bottle and used some folded up toilet paper to wipe her eyes clean. Then she washed the rest of her face, using a small cloth he gave her.

“Still gorgeous,” he said, when she removed the cloth and glanced at him in the mirror, her face free of makeup and looking rosy and fresh.

“I don’t actually like wearing makeup. Makes me break out if I do it too often.”

“It’s fun to get dressed up once in a while, though.” He started to unbutton his dress shirt. She watched him like a spider, fixated on a fly that was about to get snagged in her web. With focus, curiosity and absolute starvation.

The way her pupils grew, the black invading the gray until it was just a thin rim of silver left of her irises as he removed his shirt, had him stifling his chuckle.

Then he went to work on his pants and when his cock slapped his stomach, she couldn’t contain her gasp.

“Jesus Christ,” she blurted out. “Forget being a cop. You could be a firefighter with that hose.”

He snorted. “Been hanging out with Rayma too much.”

“Because I say what’s on my mind?”

“No filter.”

“Blame the twins.”

“I’d rather just meet them.” He stepped forward and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. It was a standard bra, but instead of two clasps, it had four. The black bra fell to the ground and his gaze zeroed in on her perky red nipples.

He dropped to a crouch and brought one into his mouth while cupping the other breast. She moaned and arched her back, pressing her chest into his hand. He switched to the other breast with his mouth, sucking that nipple and feeling it get harder against his tongue. She moaned once more and reached out to steady herself by grabbing his shoulders.

“Let’s get clean,” she said, pulling away and opening the glass door for the shower. He followed her in and had her plastered up against the tile wall in less than a second.

Hands and mouths were everywhere as the steam enveloped them into a warm fog.

The snow picked up outside, blanketing the city once more in a white shroud of silence. But inside Jace’s apartment, in his shower, things were hot, and neither of them were quiet.

He brought her to climax again with just his fingers before she dropped to her knees, took him in her mouth and introduced him to her tonsils on a very intimate level.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time they fell into bed. But neither of them was tired.

When one of her twins got tired, the other one tagged in, and because he was all about balance, he made sure he never left either twin unsatisfied. The clock on his phone said it was three-thirty when he finally curled up around Peyton and closed his eyes.

He’d never had a Christmas like this before, but he was beginning to think there’d never be one better, either.