Page 49 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

‘Not if I can help it.’

Damn. She wasn’t surprised. Gus was athletic and in complete control of his body, and she could easily imagine him striding over fields and up mountains, scaling rockfaces, but she couldn’t see him shimmying his arse on the dancefloor. While she was very good at arse-shimmying.

Gus looked at his complicated watch with its many dials and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. ‘I suppose you want me to dance, right?’

Sutton grinned at him. ‘You know what they say? That dancing is the vertical expression of the horizontal intention?’

‘In other words, foreplay,’ Gus said, surprising her by kissing her bare shoulder. She felt a tingle skitter through her and suddenly she was reevaluating her need to stick around. Why did she want to dance when she could get naked with Gus? She only had x amount of time with the man, and she wanted to spend it on the dancefloor. Her priorities were skewed.

Their eyes collided and heat blasted through her as Gus’s hand drifted from her hip and up her ribcage, his fingers curling to slide over the side of her breast. A few inches and he could touch her nipple… She turned to look at him, her hand sliding under his jacket to glide over his hard, shapely arse. Their eyes collided and held, and Sutton heard the MC inviting the guests to grab a drink and hit the dancefloor. Music flowed over them, a sexy, salsa beat, and the DJ, from miles away, exhorted the room to sign up for karaoke.

‘If you keep looking at me like that…’ Gus warned her, his eyes moving from her eyes to her mouth and back again.

‘If you keep touching me like that…’ Sutton replied, her voice husky with need. This wasn’t her, she wasn’t the type of girl who got all hot and horny from a look and a guy’s hand on her ribcage. But Gus did something to her. He made her want to slap her mouth against his, to push her breasts against his chest. She wasn’t someone who liked public displays of affection, and she hated horny people getting hot and heated in front of her, but she now, for the first time, understood how things could get out of hand in a public place.

But she and Gus were adults, and neither of them wanted to attract attention, so she put some daylight between them.

Sutton gestured to the now heaving dancefloor. A dark-haired woman dressed in a black leather mini skirt and a neon yellow handkerchief top shimmied and shook, attracting attention from men and women alike. It was obvious she’d had, like Layla, years of training. ‘Layla and I closed down many a club when we were younger. We’d spend the whole night dancing, oblivious to anything but the music.’

Gus looked interested so she continued. ‘We’d stumble out of the party or club at four or five in the morning, just as the sun was coming up. Then we’d head to an all-night canteen place we found close to campus. We’d drink coffee and energy drinks, stuff our faces with vegetarian curry and talk until it was time to go to our first lecture.’

‘You miss her.’

Yeah, she missed her. Sometimes it felt like she was missing a limb or a vertebra. If things were normal between them, Layla would know about Gus, would be bossily ordering her not to fall for him, telling her she couldn’t get involved with a single dad of twins. Layla would remind her she wasn’t ready for kids, her own or someone else’s.

Sutton saw the list of performers flash up onto the large screen on the stage. Two spotlights, one yellow, and one red, hit the stage and a ripple of excitement surged through the crowd.

‘We’re a minute away from our first karaoke performer, folks. Sign up now to take your turn!’

Sutton cocked her head and lifted her eyebrows and gestured to the stage. ‘I will if you will,’ she told Gus.

‘I would rather shove hot bamboo sticks under my nails,’ he growled.

‘Is that a no?’

‘It’s ahellno with bells on.’

Sutton grinned and watched a young woman stumble up onto the stage, a microphone in her hand. The young woman had sat opposite them earlier, and Sutton remembered she was a buyer for one of the stores up for an award. A cacophony of wolf whistles and jeers broke out, and Sutton winced at her song choice. She’d done enough karaoke to know it was a lot harder than it looked.

‘This isn’t going to end well,’ Gus murmured in her ear.

‘I’m impressed by her ability to hold her liquor. She’s had a few Long Island Iced Teas. I would’ve fallen after two,’ Sutton replied, keeping her voice low.

‘Or found a few Christmas decorations to destroy.’

Sutton pulled a face and nudged him with her shoulder. ‘Haha. Will I ever live that down?’

Gus kept his eyes on the stage, but she saw his smile. ‘No.’

‘And I will never let you forget you kneed Santa in the nuts. I think you’re heading to hell for that,’ Sutton said, laughing. Then she remembered she wouldn’t be around to remind him of anything; she was taking off soon. It was a horrible thought, difficult to swallow. She didn’t want to move on, not yet. Maybe not at all.

Sutton pushed her fist into her sternum, terrified. Maybe she should ease up on the wine and drink a gallon of water in the hope it would make her more sensible. She wouldn’t fall for Gus Langston, she refused to.

But what if she had, just a little, already?

Refusing to spoil the evening by overreacting and overthinking, she turned her attention back to the stage and winced when Long Island Iced Tea butchered a high note. She, and the audience, just had to make it through another chorus…

There, done. Thank God.

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