Page 88 of Spying Under the Mistletoe
She quickly slips it over her head. The heavy fabric drops into place, reaching the tops of her thighs.
My cock, exhausted as it is, stirs to life once more. It takes all my willpower, and then some, not to toss her onto the bed and make love to her again.
Downstairs, Chloe heats the hot chocolate and curls up against me on the couch as we start watching the movie. The bowl of popcorn sits perched on my lap.
The movie really is as sappy as I was expecting. But since it makes Chloe happy, I don’t complain.
Or at least I assume she’s happy. She rubs her fingers under her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I ask, looking between her and the TV screen.
“I always cry at this part.”
That has me even more confused. It’s not like anyone died or anything. Just the opposite.
Seeing the confusion stamped on my face, she clarifies, “I’m a sucker for happy endings.”
I’ve never really understood why women cry at sappy endings. My mother and sisters were the same. They always had a box of tissues on hand whenever they watched what they called tearjerkers.
The corner of my mouth twitches up. “That seriously made you cry?”
“Sure, he finally got the girl. She realized she couldn’t live without him.”
“I’m betting the prince is just relieved he’s finally getting laid.”
Chloe smirks at me through a tear-stained face. “I’m sure that’s exactly what he was thinking when he got down on one knee to propose.” She snatches up the reindeer pillow next to her and hits me on the arm.
I grab my biceps, pretending to be gravely wounded. Cautiously, she lowers the cushion, and I pull her onto my lap, taking advantage of the movement.
Her eyes shine at me, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. The only sounds in the room are the faint snores from the direction of Whiskey’s bed and the closing credits.
Her gaze drops to my lips.
I stroke my thumb against her cheek. There’s no doubt about it, I’m falling for Chloe.
And I’m falling hard.
24
Chloe
The final bell rings.“Don’t forget to take your hats and gloves with you,” I remind the kids. It never fails that someone forgets something in their rush to go home. As it is, they’ve been bouncing off the walls for the past hour, ready for the weekend to begin.
Once the last of the kids trails out the door to the hallway, Landon strolls through the one connecting our classrooms. It’s been four days since I decorated his town house.
Four days since I felt something shift inside me during the contest to make each other climax first.
He flashes me a wicked smile and gives me a very thorough kiss.
My heart and breath respond, picking up speed. The same way they always behave every time he kisses me after the final bell. The kisses are now a daily occurrence, ever since we opened up about his old girlfriend and about my father, stepfather, and Mark.
Things have also shifted between us, but I can’t put my finger on why exactly that is. I’m nothing more than a mission to him, a notch in the old proverbial belt.
My heart does a little flutter kick as if that’s the only answer I need. But it might also be because he’s still kissing me.
It’s not a naughty, let’s-get-down-and-dirty kiss. This kiss stirs something deep in my soul.
And I suddenly know why.
