Page 13 of Wicked Christmas Eve

Literally on the second thing.

“Why did you pretend not to remember me?”

Cyrus leaned forward and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, catching me off guard. My breath caught. The simple shock of his touch against my skin zinged straight to my core.

He didn’t stop there. His finger traced a path from my ear to my lips, leaving me quaking on the insides.

“You don’t look like the girl I knew way back then.”

I narrowed my eyes because he was crazy. Other than the hair, I looked exactly like my high school photo. Well, and the curves. I wasn’t exactly as skinny as I’d been back then.

“But you’re not wrong. I knew the second you walked through that door. You aren’t exactly the easy-to-forget kind.” His voice lowered to a husky rumble, sending a whisper of heat straight to my bare sex.

Had it been so long since I’d received a compliment that something so simple and a little cheesy turned me on? Obviously so. Screw it. What did it matter? I’d had a major crush, that I believed was real love, on him in high school. Hell we’d practically grown up together since Kindergarten, so he wasn’t exactly a stranger. One night of something good sounded like a damn fine idea.

My heart stuttered for a moment, as I thought about whether I could handle another single night with this man. There would be no illusion of love this time around. I’d grown up since then.

Besides, the minute this holiday ended I’d be out of here, meaning no awkward run ins afterward. I ignored the whisper in the back of my head reminding me that I had nowhere else to go. No job, no apartment, not even a friend with benefits deal to keep me occupied. My life had conspired against me, leaving me wide open for whatever.

Only the interview procured by my mother with his father had stood between me and homelessness. And that had gone swell.

I pulled my head away from that runaway train and back into the present. Company included.

If I had to be honest, and I really should be, it wasn’t just the beautiful man that pulled at me here. The faint report of the whip cracking in the background continued to beat at my senses. The sound drove me with a need to squirm and press my thighs together.

Instead of responding to his comment, I dipped my head.

Time to be honest with yourself, Megan.

Whatever kinky sex games they played here, I wanted in.

It didn't matter that my stomach trembled with a fair amount of uncertainty or that I hadn't been with anyone else, except for that tiny little boss mistake, in a really long time.

I couldn’t even imagine considering it with a total stranger. No, this was fate hooking me up for the first time in my life and I didn't want to miss it.

I just needed him to ask...

He tucked his fingers under my chin and lifted my head.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

I shivered under the onslaught of that powerful voice. The familiarity of it as potent as the power he exuded. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to his and held my breath. I wanted him to see what I didn’t quite have the courage to voice.

An easy smile spread across his face. “You want to play, don’t you? That’s why you came here on such a night.”

I nodded quickly before I could change my mind. None of this I had planned, but he didn’t have to know that if it meant I could have a night free of worry.

I wanted to be free.

That word suddenly stuck in my mind on an endless loop. I knew there was more to it, but I couldn’t deal with that now.

“You think you can handle what’s going on back there?”

I swallowed thickly. “I can. Whatever you want.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes widened. “Be careful what you wish for around here. People tend to take those kind of statements literally.” His hand trailed down my neck and sides before it rested on my thigh, searing me with heat. Lust scorched through me, leaving me wetter than ever.

“I am serious,” I whispered.

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