Tangled in Tinsel (Holidates #1)(17)

I’m halfway off the counter as Reed grabs my waist, plopping my feet to the ground before he leans down.

“Aw, sunshine. I thought you liked an audience?”

Not just my cheeks turn red. I’m pretty sure all of me is the color of a tomato because I did say that. Yep, it’s all coming back. Jesus, it’s like being here made a fantasy floodgate break. And apparently, I’m trying to drown myself in bad decisions and off-limit cock.

His finger presses under my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Don’t be shy, now.”

Whoever is awake is coming closer. Jesus, I can’t function. My brain’s malfunctioning. Because I can’t stop picturing everything I just did and said. I need to snap out of it. I need a distraction.

So I pinch Reed…hard.

Enough to make him stop talking and say, “Ow,” just as Jace comes into the kitchen.

Reed’s still facing me, amused as he mouths, you’re going to pay for that, blocking my view as Jace starts talking.

“Jesus, mornings are evil. And especially apocalyptic when my head is pounding. Fuck, I slept like shit. Where’s the Tylenol?”

The cabinet across from Reed opens and closes as Jace gets what he needs. He still hasn’t noticed I’m here yet, tucked between the counter and Reed’s massive frame. I thought my heart was beating fast before. Now, it’s pounding out of my chest. I can’t have any of the other guys seeing me like this. This is so bad. They’re going to think I’m that girl…a homie hopper—that’s what my sister calls it.

I’m too old to be a homie hopper. I’m thirty-two. Sometimes my back hurts when I work out too hard or if I lay in one spot so long that Netflix dares to ask if I’m still watching the show I’ve been binging.

Yes, I am, Netflix. It’s okay to have free time like four days a week. And on Saturdays. Shut up.

Reed says something over his shoulder to Jace, but I barely listen. I’m about to slide past Reed, hopefully undetected. That way, I can hide in my room again, but Reed nabs my side. His eyes tick down to the front of him, making my own follow.

No, no, no, no, no.

Forget about the fact that Reed’s still hard. The real story here is that I’ve left a big wet stain on the front of his sweats. He looks like a human slip n’ slide. Jesus, how much did I come? I mean, it’s been a while, but that feels aggressive.

I’m sorry, Virginia, I have neglected your needs. I promise to re-up my Amazon prime membership and get those batteries coming in monthly.

In the meantime, I whip my head around, searching for anything, like a paper towel or a kitchen towel. Or maybe a cast iron pan to hit Jace over the head. I would rather him go to sleep for like a week than see this. He’s got a head full of hair. Nobody would even see the dent.

Okay. Okay. Fuck. Am I sweating?

I look up at Reed, but he just chuckles.

I hate you, I mouth.

He pushes his bottom lip out, and it’s cute. Goddammit.

“What’s happening over here?” Jace teases, finally noticing I’m behind his villainous friend.

I swear Reed knows what I’m thinking because he’s staring into my eyes, a challenge in them, before he winks and starts to spin around. I all but throw my body in front of him, almost falling, following his motion.

“Oh,” I breathe out, arms splayed, a bit breathless from the amount of physical exertion I just gave getting my back to Reed’s front. “Hey, you…you, Jace.”

He smiles.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he’s shirtless too.

All those beautiful tattoos on display, along with the shiny silver bars calling to my tongue from his nipples. For fuck’s sake, I’ve got one behind me with his dick hard and one in front of me, eyes raking down my body.

Is this some kind of sexual, social experiment? Maybe a pornographic prank show? Where producers got together and thought, lock her up, and we’ll watch her either fuck everyone or implode.

Currently, I’d take the latter. Jace grips the back of his neck, stretching it to the side.

Well, maybe not the latter...

Reed traces the hem of my shirt, and a vee immediately forms between Jace’s brows, making his sweet face stormier than usual. Jace’s eyes fall to Reed’s shirt on the floor, then to me in my more than suggestive outfit standing against Reed. His eyes volley between us before they stay locked on Reed.

“How was your morning? Wanna share with the class?”

My knees almost buckle from Jace’s Boston accent peeking out to flirt with me. Fuck. But Reed doesn’t answer. I discreetly flick his finger from my thigh as I bite my lip because the air feels like it’s crackling. Why is Jace looking at Reed like they’re speaking without saying a damn thing?

“So, umm—” I interject into the standoff, trying to make the awkward disappear. “How’d you sleep, Jace? Reed was saying he had wild dreams.”

Instantly, I shake my head, realizing Jace had already said that, so I snap my fingers, adding, “Crap…that’s right, you said that. What am I thinking?”

But instead of stopping there, I just keep talking like the bundle of nervous energy I am. It’s not every day you’re standing in what could arguably be called a job site, talking to people you work for, trying to simultaneously hide your fucking cum stain and your deep ho-bag humiliation.