Page 24 of Christmas Cheer

“Forgot? How could I possibly know this?”

“The instruction manual Lyddie sent you, duh.”

The e-mail I deleted the second I received it because he is a grown-ass adult. If I’d known he had his owninstruction manual, I would have put my foot down way harder about rally girls years ago instead of quietly ignoring it.

He pulls me in, drags me into the bathroom, and closes the door behind him. He takes his shirt off, giving me this immediate sick feeling that Lyddie was one of the rally girls he’s had sex with, but then he plops down on the office chair he’s already dragged into the bathroom. “Well, come on then, girlfriend,” he urges when I stand there dumbstruck. “You’re going to need to heat process it longer than usual after that dip in the pool the other day.”

Resigned to the fate he set for me the moment he convinced Thad — who absolutely did not want a rally girl, he’s answered no on every survey I’ve ever given him about it — to pull this little double-cross, I don the pair of gloves and set up the bowls for the dye. There are two different colors, a darker navy and a brighter electric blue, and when I glance back to Evan, I realize for the first time that what I assumed was his natural highlights playing tricks with the color is actually a meticulous dye where the tips are the lighter colors and the rest of the hair is darker. “You know I’ve never done this before, right? Like, I’ve never dyed hair.”

“Because your hair color is so pretty,” he says, still beaming at me.

I try to maintain my glare, but damn him for that infectious grin. “I’m going to mess it up,” I still point it out.

“Nah, just do your best not to get it on my scalp, okay? But you can totally just cover everything in the sapphire and then go back in with the midnight. I’ll walk you through it. Go ahead and squirt some of both into the bowls.”

This is the most ridiculous thing we could be doing, but I do what he says. I walk around behind him, but he spins the chair to face me.

“I want you in front of me. You can sit on my lap.”

That brings my scowl back. “Is that how Lyddie does it?”

“Nope, I’ve been a good boy with Lyddie. You should take your shirt off, I don’t want you to get dye on it.”

Dammit. I want to say hell no, but I do like this shirt and I probably will get dye on it. And because at the end of the day, Evan’s proven himself able to talk me into every stupid thing he wants, I grab both bowls, set them in his hands, and negotiate sitting in his lap. I have to feed my legs through the armrests, the chair almost topples twice, but I manage.

Evan immediately starts gnawing on the front clasp on my bra.

“Oh my God, can you stop?”

“Can you go?” he fires back. “I told you we’re crunched for time. And I’m bored. Since you’ve occupied my hands with these bowls, I’ve only got my mouth to amuse me.”

Exhausting. Absolutely exhausting.

He’s already got my bra loose by the time I’ve figured out how to start the dye, using the clips I retrieved from the bag to make sections and then brushing the dye on. I immediately give up on the brush, instead dipping my gloved hand into the bowl.

Evan hums his approval, which vibrates over the nipple he has in his mouth.

I don’t squirm. Absolutely not. My breathing stays smooth as glass. It’s important to me.

Despite his earlier concern over getting it on his scalp, Evan quickly grows bored of simply sucking on my nipple and starts to move his head around to tug on my nipples. The awkward balancing act has me still remaining motionless on his lap, and my feet aren’t anywhere near any part of him to feel my toes curl, but he hears my whimper.

“I’m going to mess this up,” I grumble when I attempt to clip a section up and he releases my nipple to run his tongue over it. He blows a warm breath that quickly turns cold.

“You like that, don’t you?” he says as he uses his feet to drag us and the chair closer to the bathroom counter so he can set the bowls down. Once he has his hand free, he cups that breast and pinches the nipple so he can show the other side the same attention with his mouth.

“I’m gonna get dye all over your face,” I warn him, even though I’m the one more likely to get dyed at this point. I have to hold back the instinctual urge to take more, more, more, to grab him by the hair and hold him closer as I give up and start grinding myself against him.

“If you do, I’m going to tell everyone it was you,” he manages to say with my nipple resting on his tongue before giving that a big lick and a chilly blow, too. “So you better behave.”

His body’s moving beneath mine as well, and I’m not sure if it’s my unsteady hands or his unsteady body that’s keeping me from grabbing the clip properly, but I have to anchor my elbows on his shoulders to get everything progressing again while he rings my breasts with kisses.

“Does your pussy need my attention too?”

I gnaw on my bottom lip to keep from making too loud of sounds as I nod for him.

“You want to come while you’re dying my hair?”

I shake my head and clench myself up. “I need to get this right.”

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