Page 195 of Screwged for Christmas

Damon reached around her and swiped a couple of shots from the table then pressed one into her hands.

“This will help get the muscles warmed up and take the edge off.” His lips parted and in two seconds every last drop slipped past his lips.

She raised her cup. “Bottoms up.”

“Everyone, thirty seconds.”

Damon pressed another drink into her hands. “Guess that means us!”

“You know the rules, right? We have to run down the road as we drink the whiskey and we can’t spill any. And we have to cross the finish line before anyone else.”

They were so screwed. Liquid heat prickled up her limbs. “Yep. Easy.” She nodded, wide-eyed. This was so not easy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the next teams are lining up. Racers, are you ready?” The booming voice rang out over the crowd and elicited whistles, woots, and screams from the ladies. She didn’t blame them.

Damon in a loincloth didn’t leave much to the imagination and was the perfect Christmas present.

“Hey, Ivy.”

She leaned around Damon’s big body to see his brother all smiles and no clothes. She knew him by name but had yet to meet her sister’s other brother-in-law. He was a leaner, yet just as finely toned version of Damon. A brunette stood by his side in a set of blue panties and bra that resembled a 60’s bathing suit. And a scarf to match.

Huh. Cute, she mused, pushing her glasses up her nose. But she’d take her long johns, thank you very much.

“Make sure to miss that big patch of ice,” Ethan, flicked a thumb toward the middle of their side of the road. “Don’t worry, you can’t miss it. See you at the finish line.” He waved, throwing her a saucy wink.

Game. On.

“Don’t pay attention to Ethan. He’s an idiot.”

“But the ice. I am a magnet for anything slippery, wet or hard.”

His lips quirked up with the same smirk his brother had flashed across his face. “We’ll have to see about that. Just curious, but all in that order?” His words were a dark, husky growl.

Freaking Zahara. She would kill her for this. Right after she popped out that kid.

Ivy groaned. “Just tie us together and let’s get this over with.” She needed to watch her words.

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled with a tip of his imaginary hat. The worst part. He didn’t even look cold standing there. Dark nipples pebbled against flat disks but that was it.

Large, warm hands parted her thighs and it wasn’t her imagination that he took extra precaution to not slip too high.

Here was a man who was good looking, had a fucking voice that could make her orgasm all on its own, and he was a gentleman.

She put a hand on his solid shoulder and leaned into him a little when she had to lift her leg so he could tie off the knot.

Now tied thigh to thigh, he stood and offered her a hand to her elbow for balance. “That’s not too tight, is it?” His dark gaze lit on her.

“No. Not at all. It should hold us together.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks and her voice held a flicker of flirtation to her own mortification.

Zahara swooped in with her ever perfect timing and handed them a tray filled with small plastic cups the size of Jell-O shots. “Don’t spill any or we lose!”

Damon leaned over and pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. “By the way, those long johns are turning on half the town. He jerked his chin toward the growing crowd.”

A single crack rang out over the crowd and all hell broke loose.

Fact: shit just got real and she was half-naked in front of a ton of strangers.

CHAPTER 2

---