Page 197 of Screwged for Christmas

The burn felt so good now, and she didn’t even mind the snow that sloshed around their feet, and they both ignored the cold wetness slapping them in the face.

“Got it.” Miracle three hundred of the day—she managed Damon’s pace and downed her last two one after the other. Oh, damn she would feel that later.

Thundering beat after thundering beat, her heart pounded against bone and air seemed too hard to come by.

Mouth on fire and eyes full of water, the only thing she could really feel was Damon’s strong arms wrapped around her.

Someone grabbed the now empty tray and replaced it with a warm blanket, and Damon reached between them to loosen the sash around their legs and swung her into his arms in the smoothest move she’d seen since Travolta in Grease.

Warm, possessive lips claimed hers, and a strong taste of whiskey flamed across her tongue as she dipped the tip between his lips. His large hand pressed into the back of her head, the other firmly on her ass as he returned the kiss, delving in for a deeper taste. Instinct had her head tilting to the side and fingers digging into his slightly wet hair.

Warm, masculine and…hers?

She groaned into his mouth

This was a nice place to be. Tucked in his arms, the cold be damned.

As if a switch was flipped, Damon tensed as if realizing he was kissing the new girl he only met a few minutes ago.

He broke the kiss, his lips less than a breath away from hers. Her glasses slipped but she could see the fire in his eyes. The way they lit from within with something more than euphoria over the win.

Setting her away from him, he bit out, “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry about that.” He tried to work the blanket around her shoulders.

No warm smile or funny jab, no excuse or explanation. Just a cold rejection.

A smile slipped over her lips as she took it all in. She watched as his expression darkened from one second to the next, and his once bright eyes dulled to an echo of what they had been.

Well, who stole his jar of honey? Feeling stupid and caught up in the excitement, she raised her chin and situated her glasses in place. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, buddy.” She really should have stayed in Houston, told her sister she’d quit school over the phone and stopped being such a freaking pussy.

According to her guidebook, the sun set way before it should and true to the facts, daylight dimmed to an early evening. Lights sprang to life yet the shadows quickly clung to his face.

She patted his chest with a couple of quick taps. “I get that kind of reaction all the time.” She jerked away and put several paces between her and the delicious feel of his heat and body wrapped around her before she managed to make a bigger fool of herself.

Her read on people normally never failed, but with him, boy, she totally missed the target by a mile. She waited as another loud group of people rushed by and scanned each face for something else to focus on besides the brooding man at her back and the odd way it settled in her stomach.

Or it could be the booze.

She pushed forward to put some space between them. He had a serious mental case. Hot one second and cold the next. He was right where he needed to be in the frozen lands of Alaska. But right now, she had bigger problems. Like finding her sister, her clothes and her ticket outta this little snowglobe of a town. Besides, storming off into the crowd wrapped in a blanket and not a clue where her bags were—or her clothes—didn’t exactly have the full don’t-mess-with-me effect she was going for.

“Look,” he started.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back.The knot in the pit of her stomach she had nursed for the last three days before coming here doubled in size.

“Ivy. I’m sorry.”

Don’t look back.

She totally turned.

Pain radiated out from Damon, and she could see the remorse that riddled his face. Damn it. She rolled her eyes and fidgeted with the blanket, pulling it tighter around her shoulders.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Come inside to the bar. My brother Drake put your bags in the office.” He jerked his head in the direction behind him.

At least that answered one question. Sounding gruff, he lowered his voice as he guided her to the sidewalk with a hand on her lower back. “You need to get out of your wet clothes and get warmed up. I can’t have you getting sick because of me.”

The shower and dry clothes sounded like a great idea. “No, you look. I’m not the one that grabbedmeand kissedme.” She raised her chin with confidence she didn’t quite feel, and that ate at her insides. The man had a way of knocking her off-kilter and that would stop now before it became a problem.

The noise dimmed and heads swiveled her way. Great, now everyone was looking at them. Again.

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