Page 22 of Naughty & Nice

But there isn’t any sign of him.

The sun has barely risen above the horizon, so it’s not that which has woken him. Maybe he… I press my hand to my stomach when it knots up at my thought. Maybe he didn’t sleephere at all. Maybe he managed to find someone to hook up with and left.

That thought affects me way more than it should, and I force myself to forget it as I walk into the kitchen to make myself a large mug of coffee.

Thankfully, there’s a decent coffee machine and generous-sized mugs in the cupboard. I make myself a hazelnut cappuccino with a double shot of espresso before collecting my book from the coffee table and the blanket from the back of the couch and heading outside.

It’s cold. Freezing, actually. But it doesn’t stop me.

There are heaters out here, it was one of the things that excited me about this place.

I turn them on and just get settled on the swing seat that faces the mountains in the distance when I discover things are even better than I thought.

It’s snowing.

It’s actually freaking snowing. And as the sun rises, I discover that the mountains are already covered.

The view is the thing Christmas dreams are made of.

With the seat rocking gently back and forth, a blanket wrapped around me, my coffee and my book, I fall into the kind of relaxation I was craving when we booked this place.

Silence continues to fill the air around me as I lose myself in my book.

I’ve been reading romance for as long as I can remember. The first ones I found were sweet, teenage puppy-love ones. But then I grabbed one, completely innocently, from a thrift store. It had this cute cover that pulled me in, but the inside… whoa… that got my innocent twelve-year-old heart racing.

Since then, I’ve tried every and any romance book I can get my hands on. I love it. And I guess, it helps to make up for the lack of romance and spice in my own life.

Up until very recently, my only personal experience was courtesy of my own fingers or a toy or two I’ve branched out with in recent years.

I was fairly satisfied. But then Wilder…

I want more. I do.

The way his touch lit me up... The way he made me feel... it was a million times better than I have ever made myself feel, highly rated vibrator or not.

The scene I’m reading begins to heat up, and I fall deeper under its spell, losing all sense of my surroundings. My heart races and I devour the words faster, needing to reach the climax.

The description of the setting, the feelings, everything… I’m right with them, my blood boiling as it courses through my veins.

If it weren’t for the mug, right now would be a fantastic one-handed reading situation.

I’m debating losing the coffee and taking advantage of just that when a shadow falls over me.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, dropping my book and just about saving the mug from shattering all over the deck.

Wilder leans down and picks up the book, his eyes roaming over the cover.

“Whatcha reading?” he asks before lifting the blanket and dropping down beside me.

“Where the hell have you been?” I ask, reaching out and attempting to snatch my book back.

I’m not ashamed of what I read, but I really don’t need it to become a hot topic right now.

He lets me get my fingers on it before he tugs it away and tucks it under his thigh, forcing me to either let it go or climb over him to get it back. The latter is certainly not happening.

“Couldn’t sleep; went for a run.”

His words give me pause, and I look at him properly for the first time since he appeared.

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