Page 46 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

“The last twenty-four hours were hell until I saw you walking towards me in the square tonight,” he admits, the softness in those forest green eyes making my heart thud with emotion.

“Utter torment. We need to make up for lost hours. It’s nearly Christmas after all.” I shift my hips, inviting him in.

“Yeah, it is. Merry Christmas, honey.” He slides inside with one smooth thrust, filling me to the brim and stealing my breath. “Fuck, Carol,” he grunts as we start to move, faster and harder which each snap of his hips.

“A very Merry Christmas for us,” I babble as pleasure floods my senses.

Our mingled panting and the frenzied slap of flesh meeting flesh surround us as my old twin bed creaks in protest. Thank God, my parents aren’t home to hear the headboard pounding the wall as Nick pounds into me with relentless reverence. It’s sweet music to my ears, ending on a high note with our loud cries of completion when we find our release together.

The echoes still linger – we were in no way quiet - when we become aware of noises coming from downstairs. Voices and movement, unmistakable. Oh holy snowballs! I clutch Nick tightly, fearing a burglar.

“It’s just the cat getting into mischief since he can’t claw my ass,” Nick says, trying to assure us both as he starts to rise.

I grab his arm. “Mr. Jinglebell doesn’t talk,” I whimper.

“Um, Carol?” a voice calls from below. “Are you okay, sweetheart? We popped back over because I forgot that trifle I made for the party and we heard…noises.”

Not a burglar. No, this is much worse. “Figgy pudding, it’s Mom!” I squeak.

“Is that Nick’s rental out front, baby?” Nick’s eyes widen in horror at the sound of my dad’s voice and then footsteps on the stairs.

My heart races even though, logically, I know it’s silly. “I mean, we are adults. They know we’ve spent the last week sharing a room at the inn.”

“Remind your dad of that before he hits me.”

“Maybe if we’re quiet, they’ll think we took a walk or something and just go back to your grandmother’s party?”

They don’t.

Because, in case there was any chance that they might leave without another word, Mr. Jinglebell starts meowing loudly outside my bedroom door and clawing at the wood to ensure they know exactly where to find us, the traitor.

???

It’s getting late on Christmas Eve and I have a new definition of the word awkward to share - Being found naked by your parents in your bedroom with your childhood friend who was pretending to be your boyfriend twenty-four hours ago but is now your real boyfriend is very, very awkward.

But we survived and even joined the party next door once we were dressed again. “All three of us in our Christmas sweaters, what a great picture to share!”

“Carol, no,” Nick begs.

“Carol, yes,” I cackle.

With only Grams, Marley, Jake, my folks and Nick and I left, we open a bottle of champagne to celebrate the newlyweds once more and toast the newest and newly legitimate couple in the house.

“You’re both great kids,” Dad says, holding up a glass. “And, I need to drink enough tonight to forget everything I saw earlier.”

“Nothing like makeup sex to make the fight worth it,” Mom declares. Mom’s already had her fair share of spiked eggnog and rum balls tonight. (Those bridge club ladies came topar-tay.)

“I knew you’d fix it,” Grams says with a warm smile as she pats her grandson’s arm. “And, I couldn’t be happier with the girl you brought home for the holidays.”

Nick and I, as rosy-cheeked as we’d been as two teens sharing a mistletoe kiss, sit side by side on Grams’ sofa and endure the laughter and gentle teasing of our loved ones.

In fact…

“Ah ha! Mistletoe, you two!” Marley shouts with glee, looking more than a little mischievous as she points out a sprig that neither of us noticed when we took this seat.

“Hmm,” we say in sync before Nick turns towards me and says, “Well? May I kiss you, Carol?”

I bite my bottom lip, nodding as he holds up a brightly-colored package to block us from everyone else’s view… and proceeds to kiss me senseless.

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