Page 71 of Mistletoe in the Mafia

“We seriously need to do something about you and your filthy mouth.”

“You love my filthy mouth,” he retorts.

Which is true. I really, really do. But I’m also strong enough to resist him when it’s important.

“How about this? If you get dressed for the party without any complaints, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me tonight,” I offer.

Dominic’s grin turns wolfish. “Careful what you say, baby. I’ve got a pair of handcuffs around here I’ve been wanting to use on you.”

I swallow. That sounds equal parts terrifying and intriguing. Even as he says it, I feel my core dampening. I’m sure I would enjoy anything Dominic did to me. Plus, he’s tied my hands during sex before. Granted, he did it with my panties and it was loose enough that I could have gotten out of it with barely any effort, but still….

“Okay,” I breathe. “Now will you please get going?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He leans down to kiss my lips softly, robbing me of breath for several seconds. And then he’s walking toward the bathroom. I stare at his naked back until he disappears. Once he does, I have to shake my head twice to focus on getting ready as well.

Soon enough we’re leaving and driving to Carly’s home. Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky. The grand iron gates swing open, leading us into a long driveway lined with glowing candy-cane-shaped lights, and beyond it, her house looms like something out of a Hallmark movie—majestic, extravagant, and drowning in Christmas spirit.

Although “house” is a bit of a stretch. The place is a huge, wide mansion.

“This place looks insane,” Dominic mutters as we step out of the car.

I laugh, linking my arm through his. “It’s festive.”

“Festive is not the word I’d use,” he counters, eyeing the enormous inflatable Santa perched on the sidewalk.

The thing is holding a neon “Ho Ho Ho” sign that blinks in time to “Jingle Bell Rock” blasting from hidden speakers. Carly’sfamily definitely goes all out for Christmas. Dominic’s right, this is insane. And I love it so much!

“You look amazing. Stop complaining,” I tease, glancing at him.

The red shirt he’s wearing is great, deep and bold, tucked neatly into tailored black slacks and paired with a charcoal gray coat that brings out the color of his eyes. He grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t resist when I tug him forward.

I adjust the hem of my dress as we walk toward the open mansion doors. It’s a shimmering emerald green number with a sweetheart neckline, the kind of dress that makes you feel like a Christmas goddess. Paired with red heels that are risky enough to make walking in the snow a questionable life choice. But thanks to Dominic helping me walk, I should be okay until we’re safely inside.

As soon as we step through the doors, a couple of the staff step forward to welcome us and grab our coats. They direct us toward the party, but Carly appears suddenly and she’s practically vibrating with excitement.

“You came!” she squeal, pulling me into a hug. “And oh my god, look at you two. Maddie, that dress is stunning. You look amazing.”

She’s one to talk. She’s dressed to the nines in a short red dress that has a ruffle skirt, paired with a sequined blazer and a sparkling diamond necklace.

“Thanks, you do too. This is so amazing. I’m really glad you invited me.”

“Oh hush,” she says, waving me off. After hugging me, she turns to Dominic.“Hey, you,” she greets, stepping back and narrowing her eyes playfully at him. “Red suits you. Almost like you have Christmas spirit hiding in there somewhere.”

Dominic rolls his eyes. “Don’t.”

She laughs, grabbing my hand and leading us inside. “Come on, you’re going to love this!”

The mansion’s ballroom is breathtaking. A massive Christmas tree dominates one corner, its branches heavy with gold and red ornaments, ribbons, and enough twinkling lights to rival the night sky. Garlands and wreaths decorate every wall, and the long buffet table along the side is practically groaning under the weight of food.

Carly leaves us for a minute to grab something. Dominic glances around, his expression hovering somewhere between disinterest and disbelief.

“This is excessive,” he mutters.

I elbow him lightly, “It’s magical.”

“It’s loud,” he says, his hand tightening around mine.

---