Page 37 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

This time, I feel seduced—champagne, a pretty dress, and the continuous teasing I got from Jake through the evening. How quickly everything changed once he kissed me. Once I knew he’d brought me home not just for himself but for the three of them.

Like they’d all talked about it.

God, what does this mean?

My mind spins in dizzying circles until we’re stopped in front of my apartment building. Liam opens the door for me before I can gather all of my stuff.

“Did you need help up, Miss?”

“No. No, thank you.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Thank you for the ride, Liam.”

He smiles wide, the man a handsome fifty. I leave him and climb to my apartment, muscles tired, body worn out, still a strange energy hums in my veins as I slip inside.

The kitchen lights are on, and Jackie pounces before I lock the door. “Where have you been? You said a dinner. You didn’t say you’d be out until one in the morning.”

When I turn around and he gets the full look at me, his brown eyes go wide. “Oh shitcakes and crapkabobs. What happened?”

I bite back a guilty smile.

Jackie holds up both hands. “Okay. Apparently, this is going to take a while, so girl talk will have to wait until you don’t smell like sweat, booze and sex. And you need to look in on your son, who would not go to bed easily without you, I will let you know.”

“He wasn’t too bad, was he?” I hate myself for not being here to put him to bed, especially with what I was doing instead.

“No, he was actually a bit subdued for him.”

That stops me. Paxton is never subdued. Not unless something’s wrong. “Is he sick? You should have called me.”

“Hey. Hey. No.” Jackie grabs me by my shoulders as I turn to rush to my room and check on him. “He didn’t have a fever when I put him to bed, so go clean up and come back out here, so I can feed you and hear about what mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

I hesitate, wobbly on my unsteady feet.

“Go on then. I’ll reheat the chili I brought home and put in some fries. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.” Jackie walks me halfway through the living room before I bat off his grip and slink into the shower.

My face is clean when I look in the mirror. I scrubbed it back at the house, but my hair is still in its wild bun. It’s going to take at least ten minutes to comb through the tangles. Yet, my skin is glowing. My eyes bright. My mouth plump and pink from so much more than kissing.

Shivering, I turn on the hot water and slide under the heat with a sigh.

God, it feels good.

I scrub myself, surprised by how sensitive I still am. Everywhere.

Even as my core throbs from how much I took tonight, I wish I had one of them in here with me, behind me, taking me as the hot water sprays against my chest.

I shake it off, dipping my head under the heat. Fantasies are no longer sensible. Not with my new reality. I can’t afford to get carried away.

Huffing, I shut the shower off and get dry, wrapping my hair in a towel and padding out into my bedroom to get a pair ofclean underwear. I slip the borrowed flannel back on and tiptoe to Paxton sleeping in the middle of our bed.

He’s sound asleep, and I don’t want to wake him. Barely glancing a kiss off the back of his head, I back out of the room and meet Jackie in our small kitchen.

He grabs my chin and lifts my face to examine me. “Dear God, your pupils are still blown wide. Was it really that good?”

I bite my lip again, a blush heating up my cheeks and ears.

“That’s it. Sit your skanky little butt in that chair and spill everything.” I do, telling him about the night at the dinner, the building tension, the first kiss with Jake, being caught unawares with the three of them, being played with by masters and fleeing, all between bites of chili, cheese and crispy fries.

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