Melt For Us(Holiday Masked Men #2)
Molly Doyle
“Merry Christmas, you filthy animal.
And a happy New Year.”
HOME ALONE 2
PROLOGUE
“Quinn—” Jenna briefly pauses, gazing down at Ghost, Jason, and Michael from the second-story window. “Do you have any idea who they are?”
My breathing hitches, and my knees grow weak.
She turns back to me, eyes wide. “You need to be careful,” she warns. “They’re dangerous.”
“Who are they?”
“The one you call Ghost,” she begins, dropping the curtains. “That’s Damien Sylvester.”
Damien.
“Jason,” she murmurs, releasing a small breath. “That’s Jensen Peterson.”
Jensen.
“And Michael,” I urge, as a sudden chill sweeps through me.
Finally, her eyes meet mine. “Micah Henderson.”
Micah…
CHAPTER 1
There are tall, wooden pillars and dark, polished hardwood floors beneath our feet. My gaze roams over the multicolored lights draped around the beautifully sculptured beams of the ceiling. It’s evident from the Christmas décor that one of them had been here earlier to set this up. A smile claims my face at the thought of them planning this out just for me.
“No way,” I rush out. “Whose place is this?”
“Ours,” Damien says, resting his hand against the small of my back. “It’s ours.”
“And who set all of this up?” I ask, beaming with joy.
My gaze sets on Jensen.
“Don’t look at me,” he dismisses, holding up his hands.
Damien helps me out of my winter coat. “As much as I’d love to take credit for such a romantic gesture, it wasn’t me,” he admits.
“Micah,” I exclaim, darting toward him as he drops his duffle bag to the ground. “I should’ve known it was you.”
He lifts me from the floor, locks my thighs around his hips, and holds the back of my neck. “You said you love Christmas, so, I figured I’d do something special for you.”
“You’re amazing,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his, breathing him in. “You’re such a sweetheart.” I kiss him forcefully, linking my arms around his neck, and parting my lips. His tongue brushes lightly against mine, and I melt inside. My heart feels so full. “Micah,” I murmur, smiling with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“No need for that,” he dismissively says.
“This was a three-hour drive,” I press. “Six hours of driving, and even more hours on top of that to set all of this up. Now it makes sense why you were gone all day yesterday. You did this just for me.”
“How could you ever repay him?” Damien asks, sarcasm thick in his tone.
“Oh, I have some ideas,” I reply, grinding my lower half against his waist.
A hushed moan escapes him.
“There’s not much daylight left,” Jensen lets out. “And something’s missing.”
“Oh?” I question.
“Liquor?” Micah asks, placing me back onto my feet before smacking my ass.
“You know I keep this place heavily stocked,” Damien retorts, heading into the kitchen and opening the top cabinet. He retrieves a bottle of whiskey and four shot glasses, setting them onto the counter of the island. “Take a look around, Quinn. Make yourself at home.”
Sunlight pours into the room through the wall entirely made of glass. The sun’s rays warm my rosy cheeks, while I take in the sight of the woods and mountains out in the distance. Snow dances along the gusts of the wind, and it’s a winter wonderland outside.
There’s such a rustic feel to this cabin, and just knowing we are out in the middle of nowhere, together, a calm feeling washes over me. This is undoubtedly my happy place. I don’t know how it could get any better than this.
“When’s the last time we used them?” I overhear Jensen asking.
“It’s been a while,” Damien dryly responds. “Two years, maybe.”
“There’s a few canisters of gas in the shed. Grabbed some yesterday,” Micah announces.
Making myself comfortable on the stool at the kitchen island, I lean my arms on the counter. “Gas for what?”
“Snowmobiles,” Damien says, filling the glasses with bourbon up to the rim.
“No way!”
He cocks his head to the side, studying my reaction. “Excited?”
“Yes!”
Jensen hands me a shot. “To finding the perfect tree for Quinn,” he toasts.
They all hold up their glasses to me, and we clink. Tossing back the whiskey, my throat immediately burns, and a strong blush settles on my face.
And I smile with gratitude as Damien pours us another round.
Soaring on the snowmobile, I tightly squeeze my arms around Micah’s waist. We somehow gain even more momentum. Damien races past us, heading straight for a hill. An unexpected rush of adrenaline consumes me as I watch him take flight, hurdling through the cold, winter air.