Page 27 of Midnight Confessions

For the first time since we left our cake tasting, Winter peels her big, beautiful eyes from her phone, and looks up at me. Every blink making her honey-browns sparkle more than the last.

“Who are you texting, Grimm?”

She pockets her phone with a teasing smirk. “Why, you jealous?”

“Pfft!I don’t get jealous. But we just picked out our wedding cake, so I was just wondering if you’re going to rejoin your fiancé anytime soon.”

“We just picked outSondra and Preston’swedding cake,babe.”

“Tomato,tomato,babe.” I stay planted in the doorway, looking down at Winter. She stares back, brazen rebellion shining in her eyes.

“Can I see your phone?” I ask, holding out my hand.

She smiles and I realize this girl is possibly the first person in my life who is one hundred percent unaffected by my need to assert my dominance. Any other woman on the planet would melt under the way I’m looking at Winter now. She simply shrugs, laughing at my request.

“No. Want to let me in the suite, or are we going to camp out in the hall tonight? We could make a blanket fort and do each others’ nails. You probably have a Kaboodle in your things. I know for a fact you have cuticle cream, so—”

“Are you done?” I step aside, letting Winter enter. She shoulder-checks me as she passes, making me laugh as I shut the door behind her.

What I really want to do is lift her onto the island and feast on her pussy until she happily concedes that she wants me. And maybe one day I might, but for now, I’ll let her think she hates me.

“It’s just a group chat with my friends.” She kicks her flip-flops across the room and plops down on the couch, stretching out with her legs stretched across the length of it.

“Are you ladies talking about me yet?” I loosen my tie, then fold the sleeves of my shirt to my elbows while Winter’s eyes soak up every movement.

“Talking aboutyou?” A laugh puffs her chest. “What would make you think I care about you enough to talk about you?”

I unpack my pockets onto the island counter, then meander to the sofa. Lifting Winter’s feet, I sit, laying them in my lap. She watches me with a flirtatious little smile that makes my dick jerk in my nine hundred dollar tailored dress slacks. I return her smile, pressing my thumbs into her arch as I start to massage her foot.

“Jane Austen’s ghost…” she whispers, closing her eyes, tilting her head back with a tiny moan. “That feels amazing.”

Fucking hell.This girl is going to give me balls as blue as the north-central Indian Ocean surrounding the coast of the Maldives Islands. I know because I’ve been there. Thrice.

And why does the thought that it’s been a long time—ifever—someone has paid attention to her body and its needs, make me want to hurl my control off the balcony and beg her to let me do it?

“We should go out,” she mutters between low moans with her eyes still pressed shut.

“What do you meango out?”

What the hell does she meango out?

“Likego out, grandpa. We should go to a bar. We’ll get some food, some drinks, maybe sing a little karaoke.” She opens her eyes and straightens her neck, making eye contact with me. “Let’s get drunk. We don’t have to wake up early tomorrow.”

“One, this is a five-star resort. They don’t havekaraoke.” The word karaoke stumbles from my mouth like it’s dressed in synthetic fabrics and doused in canned cheese. “Two, that sounds like a horrible fucking idea—”

“Why?” Winter pulls her feet off my lap, but I’m quick to grab her ankles and pull them back. I press my thumbs into her other foot, making her body go slack and melt into the couch cushions.

“Because I don’t want to get drunk with you,capiche?”

“No, notcapiche.Why?”

Because if I’m drunk, I might fuck you. And if you’re drunk, you might let me.

“Because when I go out, I like to have fun. Your nun-like status will bring down my good time.”

She nods curtly. “Okay. Cut the shit, Fox. You enjoy hanging out with me, and you know it. We love to hate each other. That’s ourthing.”

Our thing? We have a thing?

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