Page 102 of The More the Merrier

“You should give me something better to suck on,” I retorted after adjusting the peppermint stick and sliding it slowly in between my lips.

“Let’s grab some real food after the fair. We’ll finish the conversation that keeps getting interrupted.”

“Maybe.” I scraped my teeth along the minty stick. Dalton licked his bottom lip before shaking his head.

“After we talk, I’ll find something else to fill your mouth.”

“Convince me it’s worth my time.” I kept my tone super light while stroking my fingers down his arm, hoping he’d read into my flirty banter.

“Keep being sassy and I’ll turn you over my knee first,” he promised. “It might be the only chance you’ve got to get on the nice list this year.”

“Oh! Are you going to report me to Santa?” I batted my eyelashes at him, not allowing the mental image to enter my brain, otherwise I’d turn into a pile of goo at his feet. “The two of you could take turns if you want?”

“Punishing your bratty little ass?” Dalton growled against my ear.

“Sure, but only if it’s followed by mind blowing orgasms.”

“Be very careful what you wish for, prancer.” He tapped my nose playfully but his tone was a low rumble that threatened to flood my panties with arousal. “I doubt it would take much convincing to get Santa on board.”

My mouth opened and shut, but all my bratty remarks quieted. He had the upper hand. Plucking the candy cane out of my mouth like a reward, he stuck it in his and returned to his station.

Strutting over to the large table set up with holiday treats, I fished a new candy cane out of the stocking shaped bowl and unwrapped it. Dalton watched with interest as I slid my mouth around the peppermint treat with deliberate slowness. Smirking from our interactions, I flounced to the next crowd that had gathered. Though I had spicier things on my mind, it was time to make the day special for our guests.

Grant

I was changing out of the oversized Santa suit back into regular clothes when Dalton poked his head around the divider. The two of us were getting out of our costumes in the small room. He brought up an interesting conversation topic, and I needed clarity. “Can you say that one more time?”

He stepped around the divider, smiling. I caught a glimpse of his impressive abs as he tugged his shirt on. “Kendall.”

“What about her?”

“She couldn’t keep her eyes off you today. And in case you were curious, she mentioned the two of us.”

“Wrapping presents?” I teased.

“Engaging in some frisky holiday magic,” he finished. “What do you say?”

“All three of us?”

“It could be fun.”

I’d thought about his mouth wrapped around certain parts of my body more than once over the years. We flirted whenever he came into the bar, but I wasn’t entirely sure if he and I would be compatible. Past partners liked me to be in charge, but it left me wanting more. I’d wondered what it would be like to submit to another man. No one in our tiny town fit the bill, at least that’s the rhetoric I told myself. “I’m not looking for a hook-up.”

“What are you looking for, Santa?”

Fuck.His voice dipped low, making me think he had said the part about being frisky just to gauge my reaction. Studying his body intently, I saw he was more muscular than me. Being a medic, he could likely move me into any position he wanted, and I was pretty sure his knowledge of restraints could lend itself well in the bedroom. But I couldn’t shake the fact that he was a few years younger than me. Plus, all the men I’d dated were submissive. Nothing about Dalton Rivers screamed submissive regardless of whatever I’d been telling myself. I could be wrong, but I was usually on the money.

“I’m flattered, man, but I doubt you’re serious.”

“Try me.”

Damn it.His growly tone, and the way his dark hair slipped over one of his gorgeous blue eyes that were framed by lashes that would look feminine on anyone else, made me want to drop to my knees for him. I’d been attracted to him for far longer than I wanted to admit to myself. Why had I been so oblivious to our connection?

No, I wasn't oblivious, but instead I’d ruefully declined to pursue it. I’d been managing my bar and handling the horses without a lot of down time. Now I’d finally reached a point where I’d delegated other tasks, hiring help for my ranch and a general manager for the bar. It gave me the break I’d been needing for so long. Still, I wasn’t entirely sure of how to spend time on myself rather than working.

Staring at Dalton for longer than polite, I thought about how much time we’d spent talking at the bar, sometimes late into the night after closing time. We always fell into easy conversation, and everyone in town, his previous colleagues and former romantic partners alike, spoke highly of him. I sincerely contemplated opening up to him about the sort of things I’d been hoping for.

“I’m not a brat,” I finally offered. Undoing the buttons of the white dress shirt, I moved down the line, focusing on the garment instead of what he might think of my answer.

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