Page 42 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

In between the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, I receive murmurs of praise about the guests loving the breakfast, especially the desserts. I’m over the moon hearing it.

Kingston corners me and thanks me again. I shush him with a kiss, ending up making a mess of his clothes with my flour- and chocolate-covered hands. I feel embarrassed while he’s unbothered.

Over two hours pass before I’m free, still high on adrenaline and pleased when I see the dessert trays empty after taking a quick peek in the buffet room.

“Oh gosh!” I gush happily to Kingston. It’s only the two of us left in the kitchen. Removing the apron, I tell him, “That was so much fun.”

“Should I hire you then?” he muses, stepping closer. “I can keep you with me forever.”

His words both excite and scare me.

This is the perfect opportunity to talk to him. To lay out my terms. But forming words, let alone saying them out loud, becomes a struggle. Attuned to my ticks in such a short time, he senses it and turns serious.

“What stubborn thought is circling your head now, woman?” he demands, tipping my chin upward when I hesitate to meet his stare.

Spill it, Twinkle.

“I have one condition,” I say and cross my arms. “I want a no-strings-attached, one-week stand.”

“One-week stand?” He arches one eyebrow, gaze alight with humor.

“I’m improvising.”

“Of course,” he mocks. “Then I have a condition too.”

“What?”

“For every fantasy, I want a date in exchange.”

“But I,” I stammer. “I just told you I don’t want anything serious. This is asking for the opposite. This is just supposed to be sex.”

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Twinkle.” His voice deepens, full of resolution. He’s a man who knows what he wants. “But I also won’t pretend or tell you that this is just fucking between us. I don’t want you to remember me as a stranger you slept with on vacation. I like and crave you too much for that.”

His grandmother’s warning blares inside my head.

I sense the energy in him, screaming there’s no swaying him.

“Yes or no, darling?” he coaxes, sounding impatient and barely restrained. His grip on my chin moves to cup the back of my head, raising the small hairs on my neck as he murmurs, “What’s it going to be?”

So tempting.

So dangerous.

Sorisky.

“Yes.” Because in the end, there’s only one answer. “A date for every fantasy.”

CHAPTER – 14

Twinkle

No sooner are the words out of my mouth than his soft grip in my hair turns into an unbreakable band, and his lips clash with mine in pure, unadulterated hunger.

The air charges with electricity and unspoken desires.

His restraint explodes.

“You’re well and truly captured now, little vixen,” he growls lethally, with unbending ownership. Slanting my head as he wants, like I’m a doll made for him, his tongue invades my gasping lips and rolls with mine. He sucks and the action sends a zap straight to my clit. “Who’s going to own you, Twinkle?”

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