Page 56 of Merry Me
He stopped near the end of the hall, pushed open a door, and led me inside.
It was an office, empty except for a worn maroon couch and a desk covered in wrapped boxes. Lights twinkled softly in the windows, casting the whole space in a glow that felt stolen—like this moment wasn’t meant for anyone else but us.
He closed the door behind us.
Click.
I jumped slightly.
It wasn’t like there was a perfectly acceptable room in this building we could be using.
The beard. His mussed hair. His expression?
This wasn’t Easton. This wasSanta with benefits.
And apparently, my ultimate weakness.
Every woman’s secret dream. According to that one song at least.
Staring at Easton as he turned around to face me…it was perhaps my secret dream as well.
Fuck.
“We can’t stay long,” I said, my heart thudding against my rib cage at how close we were.
“Then I guess we better not waste any time,” he murmured. “Let’s get your surprise started.”
Before I could respond, his hands found my waist, tugging me forward until I was pressed against him, Santa suit and all. The plush velvet was soft against my skin; the gold buckle of the belt was cold where it met my stomach.
He kissed me, slow and sure, coaxing rather than demanding, his mouth soft and warm and somehow tasting faintly of peppermint. I wasn’t sure if he’d popped a mint on the way hereor if he’d actually gone full method actor, but I had questions. Later. Definitely later.
Right now, all I could do was melt.
I gasped as his hands slid down my waist, squeezing gently, then dipping lower to cup between my thighs. Ugh. Yep, my girl, aka my lady, aka Ms.Hussy, evidently lit up like the Fourth of July as his fingers pressed against my core.
With a low grunt, he lifted me easily, setting me down onto the edge of the desk as the kiss deepened.
“I’d just like to state for the record,” I huffed against his lips, breathless. “This is a new kink I’m discovering, so bear with me as I come to grips with the fact that I am apparently…into Santa Claus.”
Easton leaned back just enough to look at me. His green eyes sparkled, that grin of his tipping toward wicked. “Didn’t think I’d ever hearthatcome out of your mouth, but I gotta say, I’m very into it.”
“Shut up,” I laughed, heat flushing my cheeks as I tugged him closer by the front of his coat. “You are not allowed to use this against me later.”
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with heat as his mouth hovered over my skin. “I’m framing this moment and putting it on our mantel.”
I almost snorted. Almost. But I was too busy trying not to combust like a string of faulty Christmas lights.
This means nothing, I told myself. This is what sad, lonely people do during the holidays when thrust together with their emotionally-complicated, unfairly-hot exes. I was basically living in a Taylor Swift ballad, thank you very much. Probably “Evermore”if we’re being specific. This was totally natural.
This meantnothing.
His lips found the sensitive curve of my neck, trailing fire with every kiss. His beard scratched just right, making my breath hitch in the most humiliatingly obvious way. I arched intohim without meaning to, my fingers fisting the lapels of his Santa jacket like I was trying to keep myself from floating away.
I could practically hear the inner sirens wailing.Danger! Danger! You’re slipping.
But they were also sayingWe ride at dawn.
So the situation was complicated.
