Page 37 of Mistle-Ho

“Sullied your Christmas dress?” His gaze drags down my front as we come to a stop at a light. “Careful or I’ll ruin that thing too.”

“You better not.” I wrap my arms across my outfit, like I need to protect it from sudden soiling. “I’ll shave your head while you sleep.”

He slowly smirks. “Is that your way of inviting me to spend the night again?”

I start to sputter. “What? No—”

“I accept.” Gavin turns away as the light changes to green.

Soon we’re pulling into a spot directly in front of my building. I lead him to the elevator, each second feeling more and more surreal as we step inside and the doors slide closed.

What am I doing? Have I lost my whole mind? I can’t bring Gavin back to my apartment and…

And…

I peek at where he stands beside me, my eyes sliding down to rest on the sizeable bulge attempting to break through the front of his jeans.

I mean… Would it really hurt anything at this point if I slept with him? We’ve already made things weird between us. I might as well get as much out of it as I can, right?

“I see you looking at my dick, Al.” Gavin’s voice is a low rumble but I still jump, eyes snapping to the elevator doors.

The fucking reflective elevator doors.

They part as we arrive on my floor, taking the image of my beet red face with them. I march out, making a beeline to my door, completely forgetting I am no longer in possession of my keys.

Again, Gavin smirks, like he’s enjoying seeing me off balance. Flipping through the keys on the ring, he holds one up, angling his brow in question.

I snatch it away, sliding the correctly guessed key into the lock and opening the deadbolt, going straight in. I pause to take off my shoes, carrying them with me as I try to acclimate to the sight in front of me.

I didn’t expect to have Gavin in my apartment again and it feels odd. Almost as odd as everything else about this night has been. I started the evening pissed at him for being a dick, and now I’m considering letting him fuck me.

I’mstillpissed at him, I’m just willing to overlook it for a little while since I know from experience it will be worth the temporary lapse.

Gavin toes off his own shoes, leaving them right beside the door before slowly ambling through the open floor plan. “You took down your Christmas decorations.”

His dark eyes move over the items I’ve collected since moving out of my parents’ home, and I pause, wondering what he thinks of my place now that it’s not covered in lights and tinsel.

“It’s January.” The explanation stands for itself, so I don’t elaborate. I also can’t elaborate because I’m not breathing so well. Especially not when Gavin’s eyes come my way. I shift from foot to foot, shoes still dangling from the tips of my fingers as his gaze slides down my body.

He lowers to sit on the sofa, draping both long arms across the back. Lifting his chin, he says, “Come here.”

I hesitate, but only because the gravelly sound of his voice shoots straight between my thighs, reigniting the flame of lust he stoked on the way here. Once my legs are willing to move again, I slowly make my way toward him, eyes fixed on his face. There’s no missing the heat in his gaze and it has my belly doing a little flip-flop. No one has ever looked at me like they want to devour me whole, and I’m a little discombobulated over Gavin being the first one to do it.

My heart rate picks up with every step I take. Beating faster and faster until I’m concerned I might pass out the second I reach him.

And that would be a tragedy.

Forcing air into my lungs so I can maintain consciousness, I quietly pad across the thick rug covering the laminate flooring. I reach his side and stand there, because I’m not sure exactly what to do. Both times before, things between us were fast and furious, not giving me much of an opportunity to think through what was happening. Now, it’s going slower. Quieter. Providing lots of space for doubt and second-guessing.

For a few seconds, Gavin takes me in, his assessing gaze starting at the top of my head and inching down until he finally reaches my bare feet. Normally, I would be worried he would find me lacking, but thanks to his confession at the bar, I know Gavin likes what he sees. He has to if he wants to be the only one touching it, right?

My breath catches as he leans forward, the muscles of his chest and stomach flexing under his fitted T-shirt as he reaches for my shoes, setting them on the coffee table. Then he leans back again, arms resuming their position along the top of the cushions. His eyes meet mine as he says, “Undress.”

The command makes my pussy throb and I squeeze my thighs together, trying to ease the ache forming there. Swallowing hard, I hook a finger into the V-neck of my romper, working it over one shoulder and down my arm before repeating the process with the other side. Once it’s pushed down to my waist, I reach behind my back to unhook my bra.

Gavin’s eyes fuse to my tits as the lacy black fabric goes slack. He watches intently, nostrils flaring, as I peel it away and toss it to the floor. Going back to my romper, I shimmy my hips a little, making my boobs sway as I wiggle the garment to the floor. I do it on purpose. I know he’s a tit man and it’s fun to taunt him.

Once I’m naked, I straighten, standing completely bare for his perusal.

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