Page 39 of Unwrapped

I hold a palm up. “My face itches from that...that…thing.” I point to the fake beard.

“Imagine how my balls feel?”

My face heats. “You’re a bad Santa.”

“The absolute worst,” he agrees, cupping my face and holding me by the chin. “Don’t strut your stuff around here. It’s not Beverly Hills. It’s the backwoods.”

“How did you know I’m from California?”

“Easy cupcake. I’m Santa. I know everything,” he winks, swaggering back inside the alley door he must’ve come out of. I stand for a minute catching my breath. He was a hard, dominant alpha who kissed me like I was his woman. And I let him. Hell, I’d let him again and he knows it. The biting wind changing direction pulls me out of my lust-induced man-coma. It’s better off we don’t really know each other. He’s probably as hideous as his personality. Besides, I’m a confident, independent woman. A backwoods alpha male isn’t really who I’m looking for, is it?

But wow. That man could kiss. I giggle, pressing my gloved hand to my mouth. Coming here was just what I needed to get over Grant for good.

10

DARE

“I CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS.”

“Keep smiling, Rog warns as he rests a palm on my shoulder.

“I need to hit something. I swear if one more old lady pinches my butt—I’m going to lose my shit.”

“Calm down. Nothing wrong with a little hanky-panky,” he deadpans.

I think of all the ways I could make him pay, while fighting my way to the bar. Only in Springdale does the Senior Center have one for their Christmas party.

“What can I get for you, Santa?”

“A cold beer. Make it a draft.”

The bartender places a foaming mug down in front of me and I waste no time bringing it to my lips. The rich foam slides in my mouth and I instantly regret it because I no longer taste her. The cold beer soothes my swollen lips, coats my tongue and washes away the taste of my vixen’s kiss.

It pissed me the hell off watching her flirt with Federico earlier…. the way she strutted around in those pin-heeled boots; like she owned Springdale had me smoldering… Waltzing around buying shit while wearing a purse like that? It was wrong of the Barrington boy to do what he did—but his parents have a lot of mouths to feed and I can’t say I blame the kid since I know what’ sit’s like to be nine and hungry. Something I doubt she knows anything about.

So, I got even with the little minx in the best way possible. I told myself it was sweet revenge coaxing the want from her knowing if she knew who I was it’d never happen.

She hates my guts.

I hate hers.

The kick in the balls is one taste of her leaves me wanting more. I chug the rest of my beer and order another wondering what in the hell I’m gonna do about it. Probably nothing. I didn’t come here looking for a fling. I have enough on my plate to deal with.

After another hour wearing that friggin’ suit, I breathe a huge sigh of relief as I practically rip it off my body. My skin is coated in sweat. My face is red from the plastic beard.

But I still taste that saucy minx’s kiss on my lips. I need a shower but I’m reluctant to rinse that off.

“You made a great Santa.”

“Liar,” I wink at Devon.

“You did. And don’t tell my husband, but you were the sexiest Santa I’ve ever seen.”

“He owes me big time. Do you mind if I uses the upstairs apartment to shower?”

“Go right ahead. Oh, by the way, people are already asking who Santa was.”

“No. Fuck, no. Promise me, Devon. That this stays in the family. I’m already dreading nightmares of little old ladies with wandering hands,”

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