Page 11 of Horns for the Holidays

Just as his thumb brushed the underside of my breast, the revs of engines jerked us back to reality.

A group of tourists on jet skis zoomed past, hooting and howling as they passed. A few even flashed thumbs up and whistled.

I scrambled off Kotos’ lap, nearly tipping us both into the water in my haste. My cheeks burned as I smoothed down my rumpled clothes, unable to meet his eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.How could I have been so stupid? This was myboss.The arbitrator of my career. Not someone I should be drooling over. Not someone who should be drooling overme.

Not only that, but he was Kotos fucking Mavridis. The last minotaur alive. Tech mogul. Tabloid fodder and fantasy fuel for half the population.

And I was Laramie Scanlon, not good enough to hold her fiancé’s attention for a whole week.

Kotos cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We should?—”

“—get back.” I finished, nodding quickly. “Yes. Absolutely. Good idea.”

Thankfully, the skiff had decided we were done anyway, and the dock loomed into view. I leapt onto it, stumbling only slightly. Without a second glance at Kotos, I hurried up the path and back towards my room.

I had to get away from him. As far away as possible. Because every time I looked at him, every time he so much as breathed, I remembered the heat of his mouth against mine and wanted nothing more than to finish what we’d started.

Which was absolutely, positively out of the question.

CHAPTER FOUR

KOTOS

Ibraced my hands against the shower wall, letting my head hang between my shoulders as exhaustion threatened to drag me under. Steam curled around me, bringing scents of the sea and mountain herbs from the soaps. But nothing could chase away the memory of Laramie’s taste.

I groaned, frustrated.

Sleep had eluded me most of the night as thoughts of her tormented me. The shape of her lips. The softness of her skin. The way her eyes had darkened with desire right before I kissed her.

Fuck.

The mate bond pulsed between us, an invisible tether I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried. And gods, had I tried. After she’d fled from our kiss, Laramie had ghosted me completely. She answered work-related messages with clipped professionalism and ignored everything edging toward the personal, then ordered room service to avoid me at dinner.

It was driving me insane.

I groaned, pressing my forehead against the cool tile. I’d spent centuries thinking I was the last of my kind. That I’d never experience the soul-deep connection my parents had shared.Now here she was, and my mate wanted nothing to do with me. It was almost laughable. If it didn’t hurt so damn much.

Despite my best efforts, images of Laramie flooded my mind. The swell of her breasts barely contained by that tiny bikini top. The curve of her ass in those criminally short shorts. The way she’d felt pressed against me, soft and warm andperfect.

My cock twitched, hardening against my thigh. I growled in frustration. This was the last thing I needed right now. We had an important meeting with Andreas. I needed to focus on business, not my burning desire to bend Laramie over the nearest flat surface and?—

No.I couldn’t think like that. That idiot asshole of an ex hurt her. She was my employee. There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

But gods, how I wanted to cross them.

Before I could stop myself, my hand wrapped around my aching length. I hissed at the contact, pleasure shooting through me like lightning.

Just this once,I told myself.To take the edge off.

I stroked myself slowly, savoring the building pressure. In my mind’s eye, she was on her knees before me. Those delicate fingers wrapped around me, her green eyes looking up at me through thick lashes. I’d fist my hands in her hair, guiding her movements as she sucked and licked.

My hips jerked, thrusting into my fist as the fantasy shifted. Now Laramie was bent over my desk, skirt hiked up around her waist. I’d spread her legs wider, admiring the glistening folds of her pussy before burying myself inside her tight heat.

“Fuck,” I grunted, increasing my pace.

I imagined the sounds she’d make. Little whimpers and gasps of pleasure as I pounded into her. The way she’d cry out my name when she came.

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