Page 55 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

As I weigh my chances of making it back to the bedroom alive, Ethan saunters in, wearing nothing but boxers and a tight white T-shirt that clings to his abs like a second skin. He looks like sex on a stick—deep fried in lust, dipped in sin, rolled in temptation, and powdered with the promise of pleasure.

“I gave him the frog,” I blurt out.

Ethan stretches, all rippling muscles and golden skin. His eyes flick from me to Bubbles, and a knowing smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

“He doesn’t want a snack,” Ethan says, voice husky with sleep.

“Excuse me?” I sputter. “I just touched a dead frog. Trust me, hewanteda snack!”

The king of assholes actually has the nerve to snicker. He leans over the counter, his arm brushing against mine, activating every nerve ending in my body. I’m tingling in places I didn’t even know existed.

“Actually, Miss Gator Charmer,” Ethan drawls, reaching for something behind the toaster. “He really wants…”

In one smooth motion that has no business being that sexy, Ethan tosses something towards Bubbles. The alligator’s jaws clamp around it faster than I can blink.

“Feathers,” Ethan finishes, looking so smug I could smack him.

I squint at the ratty flamingo stuffed animal now clutched in his mouth.

I hate it. I hate him.

“I hate Florida,” I say instead.

“It hates you too, sweetheart. You two have irreconcilable differences.”

Our eyes meet, and my breath hitches as his gaze drops to my lips. Suddenly, the kitchen feels like it’s on fire. Or maybe that’s just my self-control frying to a crisp.

Ethan inches closer, and I fight the urge to back up against the counter. Or, better yet, hop onto it and wrap my legs around his waist.

I clear my throat loudly and dramatically, then pretend to choke on my own spit, coughing and sputtering. “Wrong pipe,” I wheeze, patting my chest and effectively breaking the tension.

“Why are you up?” he says bluntly.

“Plotting my escape. No, your demise. Yeah, that’s it. I was planning on luring Bubbles into your room and—”

“Ooh, kinky.” He winks. “But I think there’s enough going on in our bed already.”

Does he know?That I woke up clinging to him like he was my favorite teddy bear? A delicious shiver runs through me as I realize I’m not just wanting to be caught—I’m aching for it.

I can’t help the nervous swipe of my tongue across my lips. Ethan’s gaze locks on to the movement, his eyes showing unmistakable hunger. I lick my lips again, slowly, and he becomes a predator zeroing in on his prey. And damn, do I feel like letting myself get devoured. Repeatedly.

I gotta squash this, stat!

I avert my gaze, fixing my eyes on the floor. “Sorry, I’ve already decided. It’s gonna be cold-blooded murder for you. Death by Bubbles. Right after I get myself a glass of water.”

Ethan tilts my chin up, demanding my eyes meet his. I hold my breath, reeling from anticipation.Is he going to kiss me right here, right now?Without breaking eye contact, he reaches into the cabinet behind me, pulls out a glass, and fills it with sink water.

“Here ya go, Chase. But if you’re feeling adventurous, I’ve got a few other methods in mind to quench your thirst.”

I take a sip, trying to calm my heart that’s pounding like a drum solo. My mind keeps flashing back to that kiss in the Gulf.His hold on me was so damn strong and confident. The taste of him mixed with sea salt…

My lady bits are chanting,Ethan! Ethan! Ethan!They’ve really developed a mind of their own lately.

“Why are you awake?” I ask, opting for a snarky comeback instead of doing something stupid like jumping his bones. “Having nightmares about underwater performance issues? Worried that limp fish dick syndrome might be contagious?”

He barks out a laugh. “Nah, I never have nightmares. I do dream, though, and tonight’s fantasy was… inspiring.”

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “It was soincredible,it woke you up?”

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