Page 10 of Their Little Snow Angel
Or maybe we won’t—I’m plenty warm whenever Violet’s around.
“Hey!” Brody’s voice chases me. “What the fuck, man?”
I turn around. “Yeah?”
“Where are you going? Safety first, asshole. We don’t wander into the woods without telling the other.”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck before tugging my hood into place. “Sorry. I’m going east, twenty minutes or so. I?—”
I don’t know what else to say.
He smirks. “She’s tempting, isn’t she?”
“Shut the fuck up. And keep your hands to yourself.”
His smile widens. “I make no promises.”
“Mason will fucking kill you. He would not want this.”
“I don’t care what Mason wants.” He jabs a thumb behind him in the direction of the stairs. “I care what she wants.”
6
Brody
Seeing Heath so tortured is fucking hilarious. I devour my pancakes and start cleaning up the kitchen.
The sliding door to the rear deck opens and closes. I lean back to see a light brown ponytail escape the house. Violet’s outside. Only one reason for her to be there—the hot tub.
I rush through clean-up.
How am I going to play this, though? I’m interested in her. I’m ninety percent sure she’s interested in me—in Heath, too, if I was reading her right.
Which means I have to make sure she knows it’s okay. And I have to do that without scaring her off.
I scrub a hand over my face. I probably should’ve shaved—my beard makes me look older.
Fuck it. Little Violet’s in the hot tub, and I don’t want to miss my chance.
I snag a few towels from the bathroom on my way out.
She’s already in the water, twisting her ponytail into a bun so it won’t get wet. Her forest green bikini is trimmed in white and red. The symbolism isn’t lost on me—her tits are a fucking Christmas present.
“Oh! Um, I didn’t know you wanted the hot tub.” She moves to get out.
“Stay put.”
I didn’t mean to command her to do anything, but goddamn if she doesn’t sit her ass back down in the water.
If there was any question in my mind about her submissive nature, that question is answered.
“I’d like to join you.” I set the towels on a low table near the tub. “Is that okay? I don’t have swim trunks.”
Her soft brown eyes get even better. “It’s—yeah. I mean, we’re all adults, aren’t we?”
“We very much are.”
She waves a hand, imperious. “Then go ahead.”
