Snow and Mistletoe Read online

  Snow and Mistletoe

  Alexa Riley

  Contents

  Snow and Mistletoe

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Taking the Fall

  Chapter 1

  Stalk the Author

  Also by Alexa Riley

  Noelle's voice has captivated Alex, and she's become his greatest obsession. Since he hired her to read audiobooks, listening to her is the only thing that makes his lonely world bearable. Thank God she's never seen him. His scars would only scare her away.

  Alex has starred in every fantasy Noelle's had since she first heard his voice over the phone, and reading erotica samples to him only fuels her desire. Listening to him on the other end of the phone is the best part of her day, and she's willing to do anything to please him.

  On Christmas Eve a storm comes through, sending Noelle in search of her reclusive boss. Once she's at his cabin with no place to go, there's only one way to keep warm.

  Warning: This is the sweetest, cheesiest, most Christmassy book ever! It's filled with late-night confessions, dirty deeds, and a lifetime of love. If you love this time of year, I've got some cheer for you!

  Copyright © 2015 by Alexa Riley. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

  http://alexariley.com/

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  For everyone who has an inner Buddy The Elf… Happy Holidays!

  Chapter 1

  Noelle

  “‘Please,” she begged. “I need to feel you inside me now. It’s been too long.” Annabelle pleaded with Sam before taking matters into her own hands, grabbing his hard cock and guiding it to her wet pussy. Wanting to make them whole once again, to never be apart from the only man she’d ever loved. Would ever love.

  “I’ll give you what you want. Just give me what I want,” Sam demanded, pulling back just a little from her, the head of his cock barely touching her opening. She knew what he wanted, and she was sick of fighting these feelings. She’d find a way to make them work, no matter how different their worlds were.

  “I love you. Only you.” She gave him the words he wanted because they were true. She knew it down to her soul.

  Samuel thrust home into her welcoming body, his hard cock just as hungry for her as he was.”

  The heavy breathing through the phone pulls me from my narration “Mr. Lockwood, are you okay?”

  “Alex,” he grunts, sounding irritated with me. “Say it.”

  “Alex,” I whisper. He’s been correcting me for months now, but for some reason I always still say ‘Mr. Lockwood.’ It reminds me of who he is—that he isn’t a friend I’m talking to on the phone. He’s a client and nothing more, no matter what my late-night fantasies tell me.

  I hear a grunt, then the line goes quiet. I wonder if he’s mad at me, and I inwardly curse myself. I had steady work before I started narrating books for his company, All for You, but with him offering me more and more projects, he’s been my only client for well over two months now. It sounds silly, and I’m sure I can get more projects elsewhere, but I like working for him. He handles things a little differently than most clients I work with, but I like his way. Seems I like a lot of things about Alex, despite knowing very little about him.

  The silence hangs in the air as I wait for him to speak again. His words do things to me. Things they shouldn’t. I’ve somehow latched myself onto him recently. Waiting for our daily calls has now become a little bit of an obsession, one I’m sure my mother would tell me was just as unhealthy as my lack of a social life.

  “Hmm,” I mumble, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. I can’t bear the tension, but all I hear is his heavy breathing, something that reminds me of the many erotica books I’ve read. The hero would breathlessly pant into the heroine’s ear after a hard round of sex. It’s a sound I’ve never actually heard myself, but I find myself imagining what it would be like if Alex made the sound in my ear, his body on top of me.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” he finally says, his deep voice rolling over my skin like a warm rough caress, like it always does when he speaks to me. If anyone one should be narrating a book, it’s Alex. He has a voice like I’ve never heard before, and I’ve heard many in my line of work. Voices that are supposed to be the best aren’t anything special compared to his.

  “Okay, Mis— Alex,” I correct myself quickly, once again making myself look like an incompetent fool who can’t remember anything. “I’ll have the Scott book sent over this afternoon. Just a few more touches and it will be finished. Then I’ll start on this new one, if you liked the sample I just did.”

  Alex likes to do the samples over the phone and also likes to check in daily on my project status, something that’s not normal with audio work. Almost everything could be done over email, but Alex says he likes to do it this way. For what he’s paying me to voice audiobooks, I’m happy to jump through hoops for the projects. Okay, that’s only partially true. I would jump through the hoops, but our phone calls mean more to me than just work.

  Sometimes our calls dip into personal life, mainly about me and my life. Every now and then, I find myself rambling on, and he just listens. Maybe he’s really polite and feels sorry for me for having to carry on conversations with someone who is virtually a stranger. Though he doesn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

  “That sounds perfect. I have a lot going on tomorrow, so I want this taken care of tonight and off both our to-do lists,” he says, slipping back into business talk. It’s crazy how he does that. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he has a crazy sex life, because my narrations always seem to run on the dirty side and they never affect him.

  I usually end up in a pile of goo when we we’re done, with hard nipples and wet panties. We’d hang up and I’d have my hand down my pants before the line even cleared. It wasn’t narrating the books that turned me on. I’ve been doing romance narrations for years. Normally I did them alone so no one would hear. But somehow, reading aloud to Alex has me beyond turned on. It could be that the pieces he selects for samples are always the dirtiest parts, or it could just be him.

  I told myself it was because Alex was playing with me. I thought maybe he even had a little crush on me like I did him, but after time went on, he never seemed affected. He never tried to be more friendly to me like I was with him, and after a while I thought maybe I made it up in my head. My mother always told me I live too much inside myself, and it seemed to have happened again. I’d built something up in my mind that wasn’t really there. Worse, the thought of not having this interaction anymore was terrifying in some weird way.

  “Okay. I’ll send the file right over.” I try to keep my tone just as causal as his, but I’m still chewing on the fact that he has a lot going on tomorrow. It’s Chris
tmas, so I should expect him to be busy. All I have planned is a TV dinner and Netflix.

  “Have a merry Christmas, Noelle.”

  “You too, Alex.” I hit End on the call, promptly wanting to disconnect from him. I drop the phone onto my desk and bring up my emails. I want to go ahead and send the file, but my internet won’t connect. After restarting the modem and my laptop, I make my way over to the window while everything reboots.

  It really is a perfect Christmas Eve. Snow has already begun to fall, and the Christmas lights on my tree behind me reflect in the window. It’s as if they’re mocking me. My house is decorated like I’m hosting a Christmas party tomorrow. There isn’t a spot that isn’t covered in some kind of Christmas decoration. Why I do this to myself, I have no idea.

  I’m an introvert and always have been. I made a couple of friends in college, always preferring to have my nose deep in a book. But since then they’ve dropped off one by one, slowly losing contact over time. No one wants to be friends with the girl who rarely leaves the house.

  Who knows where my parents are this time of year. No one likes to travel more than they do. I still have no idea how I came from such social butterflies. I like things small and intimate, and I always wanted to spend a Christmas like that with my parents. When I was a kid, my mom would go all out, kind of like I did in my own home, but she always filled the day with people I hardly knew.

  It’s almost laughable now. I hate how she’d do that, but now here I am in a house all made up for Christmas and not one soul to spend it with. I’m not sure which is worse.

  My mind wanders back to Alex, wondering what his plans might be. Would he have a special person to spend his Christmas with? The thought sends an irrational surge of jealously through me.

  Maybe I can come up with a reason to get in touch with him, or just call to wish him a merry Christmas. I chastise myself for the silly idea. Considering how fast he got off the phone moments ago, he probably has plans tonight.

  Growling at myself, I pull my hair from my ponytail to relieve some of the tension I’m feeling.

  Pull it together, I tell myself. I’ll finish this project for Alex, get into my Christmas pajamas, eat those cookies I spent all day baking and decorating, and watch my favorite holiday movies. I will not let myself have a pity party.

  Chapter 2

  Alex

  I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair, sighing. I close my eyes and let the sound of my name coming out of her sinful mouth roll around in my head. “Alex, Alex, Alex.” I envision her saying it over and over as I drive into her. The thought has me ready to cum all over again, and I reach over to grab a box of tissues to clean up the cum from the orgasm I already had.

  After the first time I heard her voice and had her read a scene for me, I started keeping a box of tissues close by. With every syllable out of her mouth, I got harder and harder until I finally had to mute the phone and rub one out. I couldn’t stand it, her voice driving me beyond wild. I’ve never reacted to a voice the way I do to Noelle’s and the more I hear her, the more I want her.

  I’ve been living in this cabin in Montana for a few years now. I started my company, All for You, a few years ago, after the accident.

  The accident.

  I worked as a publicist for a publishing house in New York, working with authors and agents. One day when I was on my way home from work, I was crossing the street in front of my apartment and was hit by a car. The driver never saw me, and all my doctors said I was lucky to be alive. The accident left a good portion of my body scarred up, including one side of my face. It took months to heal, and afterwards, I felt cramped and claustrophobic in the big city. The scarring was too much for me to handle out in public, and I needed to get away from the noise.

  I wanted to work from home, and audiobooks were something I’d helped a few authors with before. So I started my company to help my clients find the perfect fit for their audiobooks, and before I knew it I had a long list of people needing my services.

  I bought my cabin out in Montana a few years before the accident, visiting as often as I could but not as much as I liked. When I was well enough, I decided to ditch the Big Apple and go live the way I wanted to. My parents and sister still live back in New York, loving the bustling metropolis. At first they were sad I was leaving, but I think they understood my need for isolation. I enjoyed being on my own a lot before, but after the accident, it was difficult to be in public. But technology is great, and it allows me to keep in touch with them. I usually visit them about once a year, and it’s enough for me. We all call and email, but I like my solitude. They ask me every year about coming home for Christmas, and I have a couple of times. But every year I’ve gone home, all I can think about is getting back to my quiet cabin in the woods.

  I’ve grown my business, and now I have a wait list of authors wanting my services. I take one of their books and help match them up with the perfect reader. Normally, I tweak them when necessary, but otherwise, I make the match for them and move on to the next.

  Until Noelle.

  The first time I heard her audition, I was looking for a female voice for one of my clients’ spy thrillers. She submitted her resumé, and I sent her a voice sample, wanting to see if she would fit his needs. The sample I sent her was completely tame, just a chapter about the heroine’s research on the case. But every tone in Noelle’s voice made my cock hard. It sounded as if she was speaking directly to me, and it sent vibrations through my bones. The most unassuming chapter she could have ever read came alive with emotions I never knew were possible.

  That day I hired her on and started using her for all the female parts I needed. After a while, though, I needed more. I had to have something deeper from Noelle.

  I started scouring romance authors who had audiobook needs, and I picked up a few clients. I would pore over books until I found the sweetest, dirtiest ones possible and save specific sections for her to read. I turned all my attention to this side of the business, focusing on Noelle and her voice work in romance. My own selfish needs taking over, and consuming me.

  I would record her reading to me over the phone so I could play it back again every night before I went to bed, always being too worked up during her live reading to fully take in every detail of her words. I find that when I play it back at night, I can hear so much more than what she’s reading; I can hear her sensual melody as I fall asleep.

  After the first time I had her read a romance book, I found myself unable to send it to the author. Instead, I used someone else for the audiobook. I couldn’t bring myself to share Noelle’s voice with anyone else, and I know that was crazy. I’ve been paying her to record audiobooks for months, but I’ve never sent any of her work to an author, instead paying her out of my own money and using another reader for the job.

  I’d made plenty of money in my life so that if I never worked again and only paid Noelle to read to me, she could until the end of time and I wouldn’t be hurting for the cash. As it is, I’ve pretty much stopped taking all jobs unless they revolve around Noelle and her voice.

  The best part of my day is picking up the phone to call her. I get hard before I even dial the number. She sent her picture with her online resumé, and I’m just sad enough to admit that I printed it out and it’s on my desk. I look at it as she reads to me over the phone and I slowly stroke myself.

  Even after she’s finished getting me off, and I sit there, trying to catch my breath, just hearing her go on about her day and life makes me the happiest man in the world. What I wouldn’t give to touch her.

  Shutting down that thought, I stand up and throw the cum-covered tissue away and button up my jeans. I walk out back, grabbing the axe on the back porch, and go to chop some wood. It will help keep my mind busy while I try not to think about things I can’t have.

  Noelle is utterly beautiful, with big brown eyes and wavy light-brown hair. Her full lips are smiling in the photo she sent me, her cheeks rosy with life. From what she’s told me,
she only lives about three hours from where I am, but she doesn’t know that. She just happened to tell me the town she was living in one day, and I looked it up. I also know she’s single, and I clench my jaw at the thought. How could anyone see her and hear her voice and not want to scoop her up? At the same time, the thought makes me angry as I picture someone else getting to have her.

  Bringing the axe down on the wood, I watch as it splinters in two. I let out a long sigh and wish for the millionth time that I’d seen that car coming. If I was whole and man enough to sweep Noelle off her feet, I’d get in my truck and drive the three hours to knock on her door and ask her out on a date. She’s so perfect, and she deserves the best. Not half a man who has little kids staring at him at the supermarket.

  I guess I’ll just have to settle for jerking off to her voice for the rest of my life. It’s not exactly what I want, but a part of her is better than nothing. And if she never finds out, then what’s the harm? I can have my own perfect fantasy in my head, where she’s mine and I’m whole.

  Ignoring my loneliness, I undertake the task of chopping more wood, adding to the mountain I already have. Winter in Montana is no joke, but my house is pretty well stocked. I’ve got power from the town that’s pretty close and a fireplace in my bedroom, just in case. There’s also a wood stove in the kitchen for cooking when I feel the need, but as long as I’ve got power, I don’t use it. The cabin is pretty roomy for one person, with a living room and kitchen all together. There’s a master bedroom downstairs with an attached bath and two rooms upstairs with a bathroom in between. I use one for my office and one is a spare bedroom, though I’ve never needed it. The place was furnished when I bought it, and I just left it alone.