Page 83 of Merry Me
When he finally sagged against the wall, boneless and wrecked, chest rising and falling in hard, uneven pulls, I shifted back slowly. My lips curled into a smug little smile as I licked him clean, my gaze sliding up to meet his. His eyes were heavy lidded and dazed, like I’d just knocked every coherent thought out of his brain.
“Still think I’m scared of mistletoe?” I whispered, my voice playful and sweetly smug.
He let out a ragged laugh, his whole body still trembling slightly. “I mean…” he managed, running a hand down his face before dropping it to his side. “You’re dangerous. Like, soul-stealing dangerous.”
I rose slowly, smoothing my clothes with exaggerated nonchalance as I stepped back, letting the silence stretch just long enough for him to catch his breath. “And you’re welcome.”
Easton straightened himself with effort, zipping up his pants, eyes bright with laughter and lingering heat. “I definitely underestimated you.”
I leaned casually against the opposite wall, crossing my arms and lifting an eyebrow. “Maybe you won’t make that mistake again.”
Easton moved before I could finish enjoying the moment, stepping into my space like a storm I hadn’t braced for…quiet, certain, all heat and barely leashed hunger.
One hand slapped the wall beside my head, the other gripped my hip, his fingers tightening just enough to make me gasp. He caged me in like he was claiming me, like he didn’t care who saw…like he wanted them to.
I could feel the power thrumming off him, thick and magnetic, his body radiating heat that made my legs wobble and my skin tighten in anticipation.
His breath was rough against my ear, the faint trace of peppermint and pine clinging to his shirt—but it washimthat wrapped around me. The scent of sex and tension and the promise of something obscene just beneath the surface.
My pulse spiked.
“You realize,” he murmured, his voice dark and wrecked, “next time I get you alone, I’m going to have you spread out and trembling—so deep, so slow, so fucking thorough—you’ll forget everything but my name.”
His mouth dragged down the line of my throat, slow enough to burn. “Over and over again… until it’s the only word you remember how to say.”
The words shot straight through me like lightning, and I bit down on a gasp, my body already responding before I could think to stop it. My fingers twitched at my sides. My knees did that traitorous wobble again.
“Promises, promises,” I whispered, trying for sass, but it came out a little more breathless than I intended.
His gaze burned into mine, filled with hungry anticipation. “Keep tempting me, Nat. See what happens.”
Before I could answer, before I could melt into him or kiss him again or drag him back to the suite, the sound of footsteps clattered from down the hall, followed by the unmistakable voice of my sister.
“Guys?” Paige called, cheerful and unaware. “You two hiding from us?”
We froze. I inhaled sharply. Easton’s mouth twitched into a smirk that said he was anything but sorry.
“Shit,” I whispered, frantically flinging the mistletoe down the hall.
He leaned in again, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Nope,” he called in an annoyingly steady voice. “Just…getting some air.”
“You sound winded,” she called, her voice laced with suspicion—and something that sounded awfully close to older-sister I-told-you-so sparkle.
“Just discussing mistletoe traditions!” Easton answered easily, sounding far too composed for someone who’d just had a very scandalous hallway blow-job moment. His voice rang out like he hadnothingto hide. And the grin he shot me? Wicked. Absolutely wicked. His eyes sparkled with triumph, like this whole thing had goneexactlyto plan.
I shot him a look that probably should’ve set his hair on fire. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he whispered, leaning in like he didn’t already know exactly what he was doing. His lips brushed mine again—soft, quick, maddeningly tender.
My heart did that annoying flip thing, my knees going a little traitorous again. “You’re gonna get us caught,” I hissed, because clearlysomeonehad to be the voice of reason here, and it wasn’t going to be the guy who still had a post-blow-job glow in his eyes.
“I know,” he murmured, clearly delighted by the threat of scandal. “Isn’t it fun?”
He reached for my hand like we were just two innocent people walking into a holiday gathering andnotfreshly making-out fugitives. His fingers wrapped around mine, warm and steady, and he tugged me gently down the hall.
I rolled my eyes, my cheeks still on fire, and begrudgingly let him pull me along.
As we rounded the corner into the dining area where people were eating breakfast, Paige’s eyes immediately zeroed in on us. Her brows lifted. “You two look suspiciously happy.”
