Page 10 of The Christmas Playbook
“Can you blame her?” I rumble. “You both look like you’re sucking on lemons.”
Mira tries to cover her laugh with a cough, but I see right through her. I shuffle her to the side and put my arm over her shoulders. She’s so much shorter than me that she tucks right in, like she was made for this spot.
Her arm comes around my waist.
“If you’ll excuse us, I promised Mira three earth-shattering orgasms before dinner.” I wink at her evil sisters.
They flush, which is a success in my book. I guide Mira away from them fast, propelling her forward. Back outside. Down the walking path back to our cabin.
Our cabin.
As soon as they’re out of sight, Mira worms out from under my arm. She speeds on ahead, surprisingly fast for being so short. I lengthen my stride and catch up, resisting the urge to drag her to a halt to hash this out.
I can wait a few minutes.
The questions bubble up inside me, though. Likewhat the fuck, Mira?Andwhy did you do that?Andhow long is this ruse going to last?
We make it inside, and I kick off my shoes. I grab her suitcase, which was abandoned right in the doorway, and drag it farther in. I set it next to my bags by the dresser. When I turn toface her, she’s shed her jacket and glares at me from the middle of the cabin.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” I question. “You just told your sisters I’m your boyfriend.”
Her jaw works, but she doesn’t reply.
“Why did you do it?”
“You heard what they said.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I did. It was mean of them.”
“It’s nothing new either.”
I know. I haven’t seen her in years, not since we moved away from that neighborhood, but it doesn’t matter. A tiger doesn’t change its stripes, and clearly, emerging into adulthood didn’t put Mira on even footing with her siblings.
“What do you want?”
“Three earth-shattering orgasms,” she jokes.
God, please be joking.
I can’t fuck her. Not that I would have to do that to bring her to a screaming climax… or three. I’ve got a magic tongue, and not just for talking. Or eating ice cream.
In fact, every ice cream cone I’ve devoured in my life has been in preparation for eating pussy. Just saying.
“Strip, then,” I say.
She freezes. “Um?—”
She was definitely joking. Oh, her cheeks are turning red. This is going to be fun.
“Relax, Frostbite.” I chuckle. “I knew you were kidding.”
“Oh, good.” She relaxes. She even uncrosses her arms. “So…”
I take a seat on the edge of the bed. My traitorous mind goes straight to what her body will look like naked. Sharing a cabin with herwithoutseeing it is… delusional. Right?
I’ll get to see her naked,right, Universe?
Gosh, I’d turn in every fucking karmic brownie point I’ve ever earned to make that a reality. And it’s not just because nowI’m imagining what she tastes like. I’ve just been complaining about my friends getting laid for the whole trip, and I thought I’d have a cabin to myself to hook up with a random chick on vacation with her family…
