Page 7 of Missiletoe
Okay, I didn’t used to be a creep, but Vix was making me question a lot of things I thought I knew about myself.
How could I have gotten so attached to someone I’d never even spoken to?
Chapter3
Vix
“That’s one hell of a one-eighty, Paris.” Baz’s voice filtered into my mind as I began the process of clawing my way back to the waking world. “One minute you’re refusing to let me leave with Vix and the next you’re offering to carry him to my house. That's pretty suspicious, man.” Baz didn’t sound annoyed. He sounded amused.
I fought to open my eyes so I could see who this Paris person was. Once I’d managed to pry them open, I went from groggy to very, very awake in an instant.
The reason for that transformation was the amazing piece of eye candy before me.
Paris’s shock of white-blond hair and electric blue eyes had my dick twitching with interest. My dick was even more interested in the fact that he looked like a mix between Jack Frost fromRise of the Guardiansand Kristoff fromFrozen.
He was beefcake perfection.
His clothes were nice too, like he cared about himself. I just kinda throw together whatever is closest to me when I need to get dressed, so Paris really made an impression on me. I swear, his sweater looked so soft I wanted to climb inside it and make a nest there.
The whole package was nearly enough to knock me right back out again.
Fortunately, the bickering taking place before me was enough to keep me rooted in the waking world, allowing me to take in more of Paris’s chiseled features.
He reminded me of pictures I’d seen of Viking gods. But, like, if he was a really, really nice one. He had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen, which was a weird thing to say, I suppose, considering how he was arguing with Baz right then.
“If he is who you claim he is, he’ll probably be happier waking up in his own home than at an animal shelter. I’ll still stay with him until he wakes up, just in case you turn out to be evil,” Paris was touching my ankle while he spoke, and it felt like I was being branded down to my soul.
“And if I’m a homicidal murderer bent on wearing his skin, will that make him happy?”
“I don’t believe you’re planning to wear his skin, Baz.”
“But youdothink I could be a murder?”
“Think? No, there’s no doubt there.”
“And you’re willing to take my brother right into a murderer’s home?”
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need a pack of dogs to keep you in line.”
Confidence is so sexy in a man. I was already half drowning in lust over him and was considering asking Paris to tone it down before I died of horniness.
“Keep me in line? You have no idea who I am.” Baz’s eyes took on a mad light he only got when he was begging for trouble.
I was going to intervene but there was a happy yip at my side, so I looked over to see a beautiful black dog jamming her nose between the stranger and Baz. Her fur looked insanely silky, and I wanted to pet her so freaking hard.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Paris said. If he’d been normal he would have shut the hell up after Baz gave him his crazy eyes, so both me and my dick’s interest in him doubled.
“What if my house is full of defensive traps and evil scientists?”
“Then I’d say your house is very safe from intruders. If that’s the case, I hope Vixisyour brother.”
Baz laughed, and it nearly shocked the pants off me. That was his real laugh. It wasn’t filled with murder at all. “You’re making it hard not to like you, Paris.”
Was Baz flirting? No. No. NO. That wouldn’t do.
“Paris,” I said, my voice still soft with sleep. “Tell me you don’t belong to Baz.” If he did, I would cry. I couldn’t take Baz in a fight, but if I cried hard enough, maybe he would give Paris to me.
I gave a little laugh. Baz wouldn’t do that in a million years. I wasn’t worried he’d be too attached to someone to give him to me. Baz only ever did one-night stands. No. The likelihood of Baz unbending enough to let me be with anyone other than someone he knew and trusted was less than nil.
