Page 47 of Missiletoe
That was going to be so bad. Multiple sleep fits always freaked my family right the hell out, and I knew I’d be seeing them soon.
Gareth had a love affair with his police scanner, so he would know about the fire right away, and he would be smart enough to know he’d find me and Paris there. If I was asleep when my family showed up, how was I going to convince them to not kill Paris???
If I woke up and Paris was dead, the whole world was gonna wake up dead.
But Paris didn’t bail on me. Instead, he looked like a dog with three tennis balls. It wanted all of them in its mouth, and it was going to figure out how to do it or die trying.
“Are you okay? I…” Paris turned back to the chaos unfolding in the parking lot, then he faced me once more. His face went serious, and he nodded to himself like he’d made an important decision. “You’ll have to come with me, bunny. I promise to keep you safe. I know this isn’t a good environment for you, but I can’t leave you here alone, and I have to make sure my friends are okay.”
“Even Sylvia?”
“Especially Sylvia.”
Fucking Sylvia…
Paris scooped me out of the cab and carried me away. My own white knight in fuzzy cashmere.
Paris went right into the thick of the chaos, and I expected to fall asleep, or at least get very sleepy.
That’s the standard for me when I go along on crazy missions. If things go south and guns happen, or sirens and cops get involved, Gareth or Vale carry me away because I go completely useless.
But being in Paris’s arms had me far more aware than I was used to.
I was fully awake for his chat with the fire chief. Nothing major had been destroyed, but there had been some property damage. Fortunately, the structure was mostly made of concrete, so it wasn’t overly flammable, but the fire had spread close to the back door, and Paris was concerned about whether smoke had gotten inside.
A big, strong, muscley guy named Mike had sidled up to us to join the conversation. He took one look at me and huffed. Then he proceeded to pretend like I wasn’t even there.
“Our preliminary investigation is beginning to look like the fire was started on purpose. It was probably some asshole kids pulling a prank.” Mike was standing way too close to Paris while he talked, so even if he was doing that super-hot thing firefighters do where they have half their suit off and are showing off the tank top they’re wearing underneath, I didn’t much care for him.
Which was crazy because even though the night had gone completely sideways, I was still hornier than the horniest of goats. We’re talking, like, ten horns at least. Maybe even sixteen.
You gotta keep those horns in sets of even numbers, or else everything gets off balance.
Once again, I need you to trust me on this. Remember? I’m an engineer.
“A prank?” For the first time, I saw Paris get angry. Then I realized why he was angry, and I got pissed too.
“Put me down, Paris,” I said, wiggling to get free. I wanted my hands free. I know it was silly, but seriously, someone thought setting fire to an animal shelter would be a good prank? I wanted to find whoever did it and kick and bite and maybe explode them.
I wanted to explode them a bunch.
Paris didn’t seem to notice my bid for freedom. Instead, he squeezed me close to him and started stroking my hair like I was a comfort animal. I let him have it because it was calming me down too.
Maybe in a few minutes we’d go explode people together. For right then, petting was happening.
Mike gave me the stink-eye, and you better believe I returned it. I also gave him a smug little grin becauseIwas the one getting cuddles, and he was standing there like a big, soot-covered idiot.
If I thought I could do it without Paris noticing, I would have stuck out my tongue, too.
But Paris was stroking my cheek a little too, so he would have seen it, and then he would have found out that I was a huge brat. And then maybe he would have stopped petting me.
Hard pass on that, thank you very much.
The arm that wasn’t involved in petting me was squeezing me a bit too hard, but I didn’t mind. Being held tightly was grounding me.
Pressure makes me feel good, and I have the heavy-ass weighted blanket on my bed to prove it. No blanket is better than Paris though, so maybe I should get rid of it.
I know, I know, I know. I kept getting distracted from the very important situation at hand, but do you know how long it had been since I’d fucked Paris? Never! That’s how long. And my overly revved up body was yelling at me about the problem constantly.
