Page 22 of The Grinch Who Stole Orcmas

I snort, lowering myself to sit beside her. “Might as well memorize this because it’s once in a lifetime. It’s only because that dress looks so good on you that I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

My eyes dart from her, to hide my appreciation. Then I remember that out of the two of us in this little box, I’m the only one who can see.

Though it’s not polite, I take the opportunity to stare. She told me this is a bridesmaid dress, that the bride picked it out. It’s not her usual style, that’s for sure. I’ve never seen her wear anything even vaguely low-cut, and this is nothing short of wow! territory. I never said I was a nice person, so I let myself get an eyeful, which is a lot, considering I’m looking down into the valley between some pretty luscious breasts.

Her hair is usually pulled into a ponytail, with a few escaped strands that frame her face. Today, it’s shiny and loose and shows off her high cheekbones and full pink lips. I want to grip it, pull her head back, and cover her mouth with mine.

I’ve been half hard all night, despite that we’re here on a dangerous caper. Hell, between her perfume and that dance where our bodies were pressed together, how’s a male supposed to stay in control? But now, with such a magnificent view, I’m hard as stone.

I force my gaze in a different direction because I’m beginning to feel like a perv.

We sit in silence for a moment. The only sound is our breathing. Even my keen sense of hearing doesn’t catch the faintest sound of someone calling to see if anyone in an elevator needs help.

“So,” Joy says finally, “trapped in an elevator. That wasn’t on my bingo card for today.”

I chuckle. “Just another exciting chapter in the Joy and Grum Christmas Adventure, huh?”

She laughs, the sound echoing in the small space. “You know, when I first met you, I never would have imagined you had a sense of humor.”

“I’m a real laugh riot,” I deadpan. Although her comment doesn’t surprise me because I pride myself on being Grinch-like, it does make me question my choices. I’ve enjoyed myself a lot the last few days, especially when I let my guard down. Maybe I should do that more often.

Joy shifts, leaning against me. I stiffen for a moment, then relax. Her warmth seeps through my shirt, and I enjoy the contact more than I care to admit.

“Grum?” Her voice is soft, tentative.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For tonight. For… everything, really. You didn’t have to traipse around L.A. with me. It was kind. We may not get the presents delivered by the 25th, but at least I feel as though I’ve done everything possible.”

I’m glad the darkness hides my face because her compliment heats my cheeks. “Glad to h-help.” What is it about this woman that has me stuttering like a fool?

We lapse into silence again, but it’s comfortable this time. I can hear Joy’s heartbeat, steady and soothing. Without thinking, I wrap an arm around her shoulders.

Joy sighs contentedly, nestling closer. “You’re warm,” she murmurs.

“Orc biology,” I explain. “We run hotter than humans.”

She hums in acknowledgment, her head resting against my chest. “It’s nice.”

I quit fighting the urge and glide my fingers through the silken strands of her hair, amazed at its softness and the way it makes me wonder what it would feel like to clutch it when she sucks my cock. This is dangerous territory. I never wanted to fall for a human. It feels… disloyal, somehow. To my people, to our struggles.

But as Joy’s warm body leans against mine, her intoxicating scent swirling in the confines of the elevator, it’s hard to worry about anything but this moment.

“Joy.” My voice is rougher than I intended.

She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling in the darkness, though I don’t think she can see me. “Yes?”

Throwing all caution to the wind, I cradle her face in my palms, pulling her closer until our lips meet. The back of my mind tells me this is the type of woman you take your time with, the kind you coax with soft-lipped kisses and tiny nips, warming her up before you barge between her lips.

But I’m an orc, and although my brain says one thing, my mouth descends on her as I let out a sigh that’s almost a groan. We’ve been bickering for days, but I’ve wanted to do this from almost the moment we met.

While carefully ensuring I don’t jab her with my tusks, I claim her lips in an almost bruising kiss. How can I hold back?

Lifting her with ease, I rearrange her so she’s sitting on my lap, her hip grazing my stomach. She’s higher now, our faces almost even. I have better access to that sweet-tasting mouth of hers as my palms slide up and down her back.

I try to pause, try to collect my thoughts, but it’s a struggle. Through the haze of lust, I manage to tune into her, to read her, to make sure this is a two-way street.

She’s fisted what an hour ago was my crisp, white shirt. Now she’s tugging me closer… as if I’d even think of pulling away.

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