Tangled in Tinsel (Holidates #1)(19)

He laughs, rubbing his hands together, enjoying every damn minute.

“Dammit, Reed. Do not try to hypnotize me with dirty words. You can’t make jokes like that in front of the other guys. I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m—”

My mouth snaps shut because he’s stalking toward me, forcing me to take steps backward until I land against the door.

His eyes bore into mine as he hovers over me. No more grin. No more amusement.

The silence grows before he reaches up, skating a finger over my collarbone.

“You don’t want anyone thinking that you’re into what? Let me finish that sentence for you.” He traces the dip at the bottom of my throat as he speaks. “You’re into filthy shit you don’t tell anyone about? Am I close? Don’t lie.” He drags his finger up my throat, lifting my chin as he skates over it, grabbing my bottom lip. “Newsflash, I like the things you like.”

Wait. What? Reed tugs my mouth forward, sucking my lip into a kiss. His tongue invades my mouth as his hands cradle my head. I can barely breathe. Kissed until I’m breathless.

He pulls away, eyes on mine. And any embarrassment I felt is gone, replaced with intrigue, like body-on-fire intrigue. Reed likes what I like? But does he, really?

Just say it. Ask… shit. No, I shouldn’t.

This is Pandora’s box, and nothing good comes. Except for me, if I’m on the same page this time.

No matter the debate in my head, the devil on my shoulder wins because, in barely a whisper, I say, “You like to fantasize about sharing?”

He nods slowly, my face still in his hands. The way he’s looking at me, as if to say, ask more. It has everything inside me flipping over and over. Do it. Do it. Do it.

His lips meet mine again, softly speaking into them.

“Say what’s written all over your gorgeous face.”

“Have you ever?” I breathe out, sharing his air before he sucks on my bottom lip, letting it go with a pop.

“Ever what? Use your words, sunshine.”

My hands grip his forearms, needing support because I’m overwhelmed. Everything inside of me is quivering.

“Have you ever shared someone? In real life?”

“Yes, Samantha. We have.”

We? He said we. This isn’t a drill.

Holy fuck. Reed pulls back as warmth spreads over my body.

He tilts his head. “Do you want me to tell you how we do it?”

“Yes,” I say immediately. Oof, Samantha, the brazen hussy, has been unleashed.

But I’m cut off with words that still my whole body.

“Or would you prefer us to show you?”

I’m hallucinating. There was acid in his coffee. Any minute, mushrooms will begin to grow out of his head, and his face will spin like a kaleidoscope. My mouth opens and closes twice before Reed lets go of my face, tapping the tip of my nose once.

“Don’t look so surprised. We’ve been testing the waters and flirting with you for some time. Leaving breadcrumbs for you to follow. Then Mother Nature provided a window of opportunity. We’re all here. Snowed in. With nothing to do but each other. So here I am, asking the question.”

I feel so dumb. I wasn’t misreading yesterday. I had it right. But it was just so unbelievable. I didn’t trust it. I’m staring back at Reed, completely dumbfounded, nervous…and secretly giddy.

I bite my lip, staring at his mouth because to say I’m wet is an understatement. The minute he said “we,” I was soaked. Gone are all my worries, my reservations. Nature has taken over. He likes what I like.

No, scratch that. They like what I like. I rush out my words, looking up from under my lashes.

“So when Cole said, game on last night…he meant fucking me was the game.”

“Only if you want to play.”

I open my mouth because I have a thousand questions, but he grins, putting two fingers over my lips.

“No more talking.”

“Okay,” I mumble, tasting a hint of myself on them.

But I’m possessed, emboldened by this new information, and turned on, so I test the waters, still following the rules, slowly running my tongue between the seam of his fingers.

He takes a deep appreciative inhale before he grabs my jaw, halting me, and rumbles out his words.

“Such a brat. I hope Cole gets to turn that ass red.”

I shiver. If I’ve died, or this is an acid trip, mother may I never leave. He hums his approval as I stay in place.

“Consider this your formal offer, Samantha. If you don’t want to accept, we’ll never touch you. And if you never want to see us again, we’ll replace ourselves in your book with equally enthusiastic clients. But if you want this—one weekend, no strings attached—it’ll always be our secret. Make no mistake, you are our biggest wish, so no you will make for a very blue Christmas.”

One weekend. No strings attached. Unless they’re wrapped around my wrist. Can I do this? I know I want to, but am I brave enough to try?

“And if I do…want to be your present?”

“Then come out unwrapped”—his hand drops, fingers ducking under my shirt running through the hairs of my pussy—“just like this. In this T-shirt. And kiss me under the mistletoe. Then be ready because, sunshine, we really want a toy we can play with.”