Page 166 of Screwged for Christmas

He growled, “What is it, Ice Princess? Getting cold?”

“What do you care?” I flung at him, yanking on my pullover which isn’t much more than a frilly lacy shawl. If he thought he was intimidating me like he did the rest of the people here, he was in for a big surprise.

I took a long sip, puckering my glossy lips around the straw into a pout as I peered at him over the top of my sunglasses.

Goosebumps pebbled my skin and I honestly don’t know if it was the chill coming in from the fading light or his heated glare.

His lips tightened and a muscle in his jaw flexed.

My confused brain spun with all sorts of fantasies. Of what it would be like to sit up, run my fingers through his hair, and take his mouth in a hot kiss. What I would do if he kissed me back.

It would probably shock that scowl off his face.

“Is there alcohol in that?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, I don’t know. Care to smell my breath?” I set the drink down but helped myself to the fruit garnish. “Look, Gabe.” He hated my nickname for him so I drew it out. “Take your three-piece and your scowl and get off this mountain while you can. A storm is rolling in. I hear there’s a quaint town nearby. Maybe you can catch their tree lighting or something. I’ll tell Daddy you did your best.”

“The party’s over, Ms. Davidson. Your stuff is packed and the only thing I need to get in my truck is you. Can we leave without a scene?” he growled, his nostrils flaring.

I’m not sure where it came from but a soft brush of cool air carried a hint of his cologne with it and made me gasp quietly.

I wanted to hate myself for noticing it, but how could I not? This one was definitely better. Not heavy but not flowery either. Almost like the sea and winter collided and they managed to bottle the power of both.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Oh. My. God. I’ve never gotten wet over a scent before, but damn, I’m pretty sure if I were to stroke a finger through my folds, I’d find myself drenched and ready.

Okay, calm down, girl, keep it cool.

He tightened his jaw and lowered his face to mine. An inch and I could kiss the man senseless. I sucked a cherry off my umbrella-topped toothpick. Sex in a suit or not, I was not going to make this easy.

Gabriel’s lips pressed into a hard line. I held back a giggle. Maybe this would be more fun than I thought, after all.

“A scene, huh? We’re way past that point unless you’ve forgotten all twenty girls staring at you for the past five minutes. Why don’t you get yourself a drink, sit down and enjoy taking a break from being my father’s errand boy for a bit? Maybe take off your jacket and shirt while you are at it.”

A girl could try, right?

He folded his thick arms over his expansive chest. “Since you want to be treated like a child, I’ll oblige you. By the time I’ve counted to three, that fine ass of yours better be heading through the hotel and straight to my truck.” He started to pull off his jacket. “And you need to cover up.”

Ouch. Burn. I threw up a hand. “Keep it, asshole. What, you don’t like a curvy girl?” I sat up, squared my shoulders and narrowed my gaze so thin I knew he felt the daggers I shot at him.

I worked damn hard to look good in this bikini in my opinion. A little appreciation went a long way. Sure he referred to my ass asfine, but I was pretty sure that was his idea of humor.

I rolled the empty toothpick between my painted nails, considering my next move.

One, I could make a run for my room, hope he chased me, we both smash into my hotel room, we land on my bed and have the best sex ever.

Merry Christmas to me.

Or, two, I make a run for it, fall into the pool with these four-inch heels, make a big watery mess and it all ends up on Instagram. Which, sad to say, is more probable with my luck.

“One.”

Oh, I liked that option better too. Too bad he was completely unaware of my inner dilemma.

I laid back against the chaise lounge and closed my eyes.

“Two.”

“Goodbye, Gabriel. Run along, I’m sure my father has other errands for you.”

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