Page 16 of The Christmas Playbook
I smile to myself. The panties kind of contradict that, but whatever. It’s not like I’m walking around in form-fitting briefs. I bet thongs are uncomfortable, especially since she thought she’d be rooming alone.
Wait.
I dig deeper into the drawer, my attention hooking on a bit of red lace.
Naughty girl.
I lift it out, and my brows furrow. How the fuck does this go on? It’salllace, with absolutely zero structure. No cups for breasts…
Shit.
I swallow hard, my dick once again waking up. It was a close call earlier, and I should’ve jacked off in the shower. Missed opportunity.
The door opens, and I’m caught red-handed. Her gaze on my backburns, and I slowly rotate toward her with the lingerie in my grip.
“Were you snooping?”
My face heats. “No. Yes. Maybe.”
She scowls and marches forward. She’s in an oversized t-shirt and leggings, her normally light-blonde hair darker now that it’s wet. It’s combed out, the locks loose around her shoulders. The feel of the soft strands comes to mind. She snatches the lace from me and stuffs it back into the drawer. She slams it shut.
“The question is…” I prop my elbow on the dresser. “Were you planning on seducing someone this week? A Christmas fling?”
Oh, her expression is priceless. And because I can’t resist, I press further.
“Brave Mira, were you going to have a random holiday hookup?” I spread my arms. “Because, baby, I am totally available for the job.”
She finally cracks, a smirk curving her plump lips. It makes me want to kiss her again, harder, so they get all puffy, and her family will have absolutely no illusions about what we did all night.
“I’m not going to take you up on that,” she finally says.
Boo.
“And I want the side of the bed closest to the wall just in case someone breaks in and tries to kill us,” she adds.
I blink, but Mira just moves around me. She goes to the far side of the bed and pulls down the blankets. She takes the decorative pillows and stuffs them under the blankets, making a line—no, awall—down the center of the bed.
I raise my eyebrows.
“You stay on your side.” She climbs in and gets comfortable. She watches me for a moment, probably because I’m still standing there like an idiot. “I mean it, Rhys.”
“Got it. No touchie.”
Seeing her in bed is hot.
I need to take care of my issue before I join her. Byissue, I mean boner that is currently about to make an untimely appearance. If I don’t, I’ll fall asleep, and no number of pillows would keep me from gravitating toward her while unconscious.
CHAPTER 8
MIRA
Despite sharing a bed with Rhys,I actually slept like a baby.
That’s not to say I didn’t have an extremely inappropriate dream that had to do with a hot tub, but I keep that information to myself because my fake boyfriend isnotprivy to knowing just how turned on I was after our impromptu kiss.
Kiss?
More like sex.
