Page 30 of Silent Night Sins
My gaze shifted to the already pinkening sky. “Ohno!”
I shot off him, the sudden movement making him groan. I fumbled for my hoodie, wrenching it over my arms.
“You have to go! I have to clean this up before—”
The front door swung open. Tired footsteps clattered over the threshold.
I stifled a yelp and lunged for him. I flicked the release on the ratchet strap. “My sister’s here,” I hissed. “You have to go, and—”
Thick fingers caught my throat. Cristiano slammed me against the base of the counter, his mask right next to my ear. “Go. Run while you can, angel.” His fingers flexed before they loosened. “But know that I’m coming back for you.”
I whimpered.
My insides clenched, and wetness trailed down the inside of my thighs.
“Go, I’ll clean this up,” he commanded and let me free.
I scrambled to my feet and scampered out of the kitchen without looking back.
Amanda blinked at me. “Nicole! What the hell are you doin—What are you wearing?”
I tugged on the sleeves of my hoodie, hoping to all that was holy that the evidence of what just happened wasn’t staining the red satin skirt of the nightgown flowing around my legs.
“I woke up late!” I explained, knowing that my voice sounded high and squeaky. Taking a deep breath, I added, “I wanted to make you a real breakfast after your flight. It was the least I could do since you took the trouble to come here a day early.”
My sister stared at me as if I’d grown a second head. “I’ll just have some egg whites and a protein shake. I don’t need sugar and carbs.”
Miss High Maintenance with an image complex was back.
“Okay, you sure? I have a great pecan French toast recipe I’ve been dying to make,” I panted.
Amanda came forward and wrapped me in a hug. I returned it, hoping I didn’t smell like sex. “I’m going to shower the all-nighter at the office and the plane ride off, then we’ll talk about—” she gestured to me “—this.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “Talk about what?”
“Why do you look like you just came from a bad porno?” She arched a brow.
“It’s European to sleep in cute things.” I swiveled my hips. “Quit being so American.”
Amanda nodded slowly. “I’ll stick to sweatpants and tees, thank you very much.”
“Go shower.” I shooed her with my hands. “I’ll make breakfast.”
“No carbs,” she warned.
“Fine, no coffee either, I assume.”
Amanda paused on the stairs. “Well, since it’s Christmas…do you have any of that Stevia vanilla creamer you made last summer?”
“Already made a batch,” I grinned.
“Gawd, you’re the best, sis.” She lifted her teeny, tiny suitcase up the stairs. How the woman traveled that light was beyond me. The moment she was safely out of earshot, I rushed back to the kitchen, ready to help my monster.
Only…he was gone. So were the boobie traps. The steak knife was in the sink, and the candle was relit and on the counter. Under it was a note:
I’m making a list, and your name is the only one on it. You’d better not pout, be ready to cry and beg, because I’m coming back.
P.S. I stole some of your sugar cookies. Needed to refuel after that round.
