Page 33 of Mistletoe Love Match
Thank goodness she was lying down. Between the banter and this man’s sexy morning voice, she’d gone weak in the knees. But who could think about knees?
She shooed away the thought and focused on his cock. She reached down and found him rock-hard. “I see the doctor is up.”
Mischief glinted in his eyes. “I should let you in on something. That reaction is caused by an acute illness I suffer from.”
She gasped dramatically. “What would that particular affliction be?”
“Calliope-itis,”he replied in a playfully grave tone.
“Calliope-itis? It sounds bloody awful. Is there a cure?”
He mustered a pained expression. “There is, but the cause is the cure.”
“Interesting. Tell me more,” she shot back, wide-eyed.
“Whenever a person named Calliope drives me insane, pressure builds in a specific part of my body.”
She had a good idea of where he was going with this. “I’m guessing that pressure build-up occurs below the belt in the Yule log region?”
“You would be correct,” he answered, sticking with his mock-serious tone. “And the only way to release it is to bang the hell out of someone named Calliope—hence, the name,Calliope-itis. Do you happen to know if there’s a Calliope in the vicinity? As you can tell, I need to bang her until she can’t see straight. It’s not for any sexual intent, of course. It’s a purely medical necessity.”
She climbed on top of him and straddled his torso. “You poor thing. It’s your lucky day—another Christmas miracle. My name is Calliope, and I could sure do with a before-breakfast banging. And with it being a special day and all, I can safely say that all I want for Christmas isnotmy two front teeth but for my wanker doctor to bang the hell out of me.”
“One Christmas banging coming up,” he growled, but a ping caught their attention. He glanced at the side table. “That’s got to be the text.”
The text?What text was he talking about?
He reached for his cell and tapped the screen. “Yep, there it is,” he uttered with a cat-who-ate-the-canary expression.
“What are you talking about? Who’s texting you? Is it Anders?” she asked.
He held out his mobile. “Ralph Dagby.”
“Ralph bloody Dagby? What does he want?” And then it hit. “Blimey, I’d forgotten he’d mentioned texting us this morning.” She skimmed the message. “He wants to know if we’d like to continue volunteering at Helping Hands.”
The man said he’d ask for their answer today.
What was their answer?
Sure, she and Alec had proclaimed their feelings, but they hadn’t discussed logistics. Did he want to go back to Ecuador? Did she want to return to South Korea? Would they try to maintain a long-distance relationship?
As if he could sense her turning over question after question in her head, he sat up, taking her with him, then halted her inner turmoil with a kiss. “It’s a big world, and I want to experience it with you. But there’s nothing that says our adventure can’t start here.”
The man had a point.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, there isn’t, and we really can’t leave Denver at the moment,” she mused. “Out of everyone in our families, we’re the ones who keep this crazy Lamb-Cress train on its track. What would they do without us?”
He nodded. “It’s an act of charity, really.”
The truth was, she enjoyed living in Denver. She loved seeing her brother happy and in love, and she couldn’t deny she’d missed being with Sebastian.
“I’ve got news for you, Calliope Cress,” he added.
“And what news is that?”
“Our mistletoe love match isn’t just a Christmas fling. I’m in love with you. But I can’t have you sauntering under the mistletoe when I’m not around. From this day forward, the only kisses you’ll get under the mistletoe will be from me. Anywhere you go, I go.”
This man.
