Page 87 of Prince Charming

“In your Christmas plans, does it include getting drunk?”

His grin grew so slow and sexy. “Absolutely.”

So, that’s what she did.

Spending the last few hours of Christmas Eve with an amazing man, drinking wine, sharing more stories.

Falling hopelessly in love.

TWENTY-THREE

“I’ll have a bottle of Red and a biker on a plate.” - Marianna

Almost a full bottle of wine made Marianna bold.

It also made her horny.

Very horny.

Especially while she was in the doorway gawking at the wide back attached to a very hot man as he stood washing dishes.

Every pulse in her body started hammering.

How could she resist that?

It was impossible.

Her ovaries hurt, and only an orgasm would help. Maybe three or four orgasms.Oh, yes.

The jolt of static electricity was felt when she smooshed herself to his solid back, nuzzling into his shirt.

“Hey, darlin’. I thought you were curled up in front of the box?”

“I was. But I missed you.” She first said in Russian and clicked her tongue when she realized her mistake. Her brain was slower because of the wine.

Smiling against his back, Tag got her meaning when he chuckled and pulled her around so he could press her into the counter using his body.

His big, beautiful, hard body.

She nuzzled the front of him too. Sinking his scent deep into her lungs.

More of her native tongue came out dripping in lust. “Thank you for Christmas, Luke. You’ve made an unbearable time tolerable and I can’t thank you enough for being a kind, generous, lovely man. God, you’reso hot. Do you know how hot you always feel?” Nuzzle. Nuzzle. Sniff. “I could smell you all day. You turn me on so much.”

“Marianna.” He rasped, fisting a hand in the back of her hair. “Are you saying some dirty shit to me in Russian?”

Her eyes flickered closed with his roughness.

His arm slipped around her, a thumb glided lazily over her nape, testing the thump beneath her skin. It was going crazy, like a chased rabbit.

He smelled of earth and sugary spices andmasculinity. Underneath a black wife-beater, Tag’s pecs twitched. Each beefy brick of his torso chiseled in a uniform sculpture of strength. Big all over was Tag. And she appreciated every inch of him.

Jesus, the man’s body didn’t know when to quit.

Apparently, hers didn’t either. Given the sudden throb between her legs, there was no point in denying it. She clenched her inner muscles and shivered.

Knowing she could have anything she wanted from him was a heady sensation.

Or maybe that was the wine speaking.

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