Page 59 of Dragged Home for Christmas

“Why not? It’ll get you some laughs.” He dangled the shoes. “And you’re still not worming your way out of it. I’m going to help.” He coughed. “Boots and socks off. Now.”

Mike gave him a mock glare. “Are you always this bossy? Because this is a trait I haven’t seen until now.”

Sam cackled. “Honey, I’m probably the bossiest bitch you’ll ever meet. Now do what you’re told.”

Mike grumbled as he toed off his boots, then removed his socks, muttering about cutting off Sam’s privileges.

Sam snorted. “You wouldn’t do that. You enjoy filling my ass every chance you get. Almost as much as I enjoy being full of your dick.” He kicked off his sneakers, pulled off his socks, and held out one of the pairs of shoes. “These are for you. They should fit.”

Mike gazed at the sparkling high heels. “They’re beautiful.”

“They were Nick’s. None of us could wear them, seeing as how he had abnormally large feet.” He glanced down and smirked. “Not unlike yours.”

He shrugged. “Family trait. My sister’s are bigger—and way smellier—than mine.” He took the shoes.

Sam stepped into the pair of blue stiletto shoes. He glanced at Mike. “Well, come on, Cinderfella, put ’em on.”

“Bossy,” Mike groused. He squeezed his feet into them, tried an experimental step, and wobbled. Sam caught him. Mike gave another eye roll. “How does Ashley walk in these things?”

“What have I been telling you? Practice.” Sam stepped back. “Okay, walk around the stage in them. Get used to them.”

Mike managed a few steps, as ungainly as a waddlingduck.

That was okay. By the time Sam was finished with him, Mike would be the most graceful swan ever.

He hoped.

After ten minutes or so, Mike could walk without falling. He was ready for the next step.

Sam went over to his phone and crouched beside it. He scrolled, then clicked on the short playlist he’d put together. He stood, beckoning Mike with his finger.

“Come here, lover boy.”

“Hungry Eyes” filled the air, and Mike laughed. “Dirty Dancing? Seriously?”

Sam merely grinned. “It’ll help you with balance. Plus, you should move a little with the mic when you lip-sync. So it’s all good.” He held his palms up. “Press your hands to mine, then do what I do.”

They stood in the middle of the stage. Mike took a minute or two to get the hang of copying Sam’s steps, his gaze rooted on his feet.

“That’s it, you’re getting it,” Sam encouraged him. “Now move in time to the music.”

Mike’s movements were halting at first, but it wasn’t long before he stepped with greater confidence, and their dance morphed into something more sensual.

“Yeah, that’s better,” Sam praised. “Now, put your hands on my shoulders.” He moved his to Mike’s hips, guiding him, getting him to mimic Sam’s swaying. And all the while, he got Mike to focus on Sam’s face, not on his own feet.

“How’m I doing?”

Sam beamed at him. “You’re a natural.”

Mike snorted. “Yeah right.”

He kissed the tip of Mike nose. “You’re doingbeautifully.”

“Hungry Eyes” gave way to “Cry To Me”, and Mike chuckled. “Just how many songs have you lined up for us? Or is it the whole playlist?”

Sam ignored the question, moving with him, slow and sinuous, their bodies almost touching. He stood behind Mike, trailing his fingers down Mike’s side.

Mike chuckled. “I remember this part in the movie. Maybe this is where I should mention I’m not ticklish.” Then his breathing caught when Sam slid his hand over Mike’s stomach, moving lower until he dipped his fingers under the waistband of Mike’s jeans.

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