Page 23 of Unwrapping His Naughty Secret

“But I’m not,” she pouts. “And I don’t?—”

“You are a grownup, actually,” Wyatt points out. “You can vote and everything.”

“Not everything. I can’t drink yet.”

“Your spiked hot chocolate suggests otherwise.” I gesture at the front door. “Now open?—”

But it swings wide just as I say that, Cara apparently at the ready.

“I brought a chair to the foyer in case he wants to sit for a minute,” she says sweetly.

“Oh, bless you.” Wyatt sinks into it and exhales dramatically.

Danes are nothing if not dramatic at every turn.

“What would help?” Emily frets, worried about her man.

He catches her hand and pulls her close. “A kiss. And some trifle.”

“He’s going to be fine,” I say. “Everybody inside. Let’s go.”

Hannah goes ahead to the living room and cues upHome Alone, the first Christmas movie of the evening.

Cara and I follow, leaving the threesome alone in the foyer for a few minutes. Cara sits next to Hannah, and I take the opposite couch, but I ache to have her curl up next to me.

Also, I feel like my thoughts are written all over my face, and it’s fucking uncomfortable.

When Wyatt hobbles into view, it’s a relief. “Told you I’m fine,”he says cheerfully. “And I put up the mistletoe again, Hunter. Don’t be such a Scrooge. Is it trifle time?”

He carefully makes it to the couch, then Emily brings the trifle into the living room. “Who wants some?”

Heath does.

Hannah does.

But when Emily asks Cara, her gaze slides over to me. “I might just want some vanilla ice cream,” she says softly, hazel eyes glittering. “If that offer still stands?”

It stands forever and ever, amen.

“I’ve got a few options for you,” I manage to say calmly, off-limits desire surging. “They’re in the freezer in the garage. It might be better if I showed you?”

We both stand, and nobody is watching us as I lead her from the room—they’re all focused on the trifle—but I still feel like there’s a spotlight on us.

The college coed and her lab partner’s dad.

Heart pounding, I cross the foyer and hold the door to the garage open for her. She steps through, brushing right past me. Shesmells so good it makes my mouth water, and if she really only wants ice cream, I’m going to have to crawl into the deep freeze myself.

“You’ve got your choice of—” I start to say as the door swings shut.

But the second it’s closed, she takes my hand, pulling me right up against her, andthank Christ.

I wrap my free arm around her waist, savouring the soft press of her curves against me. Holding her tight, because she’s mine. Mine mine mine.

My secret need.

She tips her face up to meet mine as I curve over her. “You owe me a really good kiss for Christmas,” she whispers. “You ruined the first one by ghosting me. And you just led me under the mistletoe without kissing me there, too.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” I slant my mouth across hers, eager to make this right. She moans as I find her tongue, soft lips opening wide. She presses up into our embrace, surging to me, making my head spin. Her need is just as strong as mine, and she twinesher arms around my neck, arching her back. Pushing her soft, full tits into my chest.

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