Page 3 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

I shook my head. “You’re right, I don’t believe it.”

“The fact that you’re still here suggests maybe you don’t mind me as much as you’re trying to convey.”

I shrugged. “The wine is fabulous.”

He smiled then, a full one, and it was breathtaking. This man could have any woman, plastic or not, so why was he here with me? Pity, I supposed.

“I thought you’d like that.”

I had to admit he was right. Not just about liking the wine, but also about not being so averse to his company. We didn’t talk about personal things, but we still found topics to chat about that made for lively, engaging conversation.

Three glasses of fabulous wine later, we left the bar to find snow falling. This wasn’t a Hallmark movie, glittery snow. This was the heavy, wet stuff coming down in glops.

“Ugh. My jalopy won’t make it home in this.”

He looked up toward the dark sky until wet snow plopped on his face. “I can drive you.”

“Nah. It’ll be okay.”

He stepped in front of me. “That’s not good enough.” His hand pushed my hair from my face, his fingers brushing over my skin, sending an unwanted thrill through me.

Our gazes caught, and he let out a nervous laugh. “I find myself not wanting the evening to end.”

“Funny. Me neither.” Did I say that out loud?

His gray eyes darkened as his gaze drifted to my lips.

“Why are you looking at my mouth?”

“I’ve been looking at your mouth all night. I’ve wondered what it would be like to taste your lips.”

“Really?” I squeaked. That couldn’t be true.

“Really. I suppose I’m an old ogre to you.”

I swallowed as intense waves of energy radiated between us. I wasn’t unaware of lust, but I’d never felt it with a perfect stranger. And he was perfect. And a stranger.

“No. Not an ogre.”

He laughed. “But old?” He pressed his finger over my mouth. “Don’t answer that.” He leaned toward me. “I’m going to taste you, Miranda.”

“Okay.” I’d lost my mind.

His lips settled on mine, and wild heat blasted through me. My body felt like I was standing in the middle of the desert, not in Boston on a snowy night. I moaned as his lips swept over mine. They were soft, but his kiss was firm, growing insistent as his arm banded around me. He pulled me into his body, and I gasped at the feel of his erection. It had to be significant to feel it through all the layers of clothes and coats.

“I’d like to get you on your ass again, only this time without clothes,” he murmured against my lips.

My pussy clenched hard in what had to beyes, please. I gripped his coat, feeling like my world was spinning away. I mean, I couldn’t go with this man and let him have his wicked way with me, could I?

“Too crazy?” he asked, his lips trailing along my jaw, making it impossible to think.

“Well... uh...”

“We could get a room in the hotel over there. Wait out the snow. We could have room service dinner and that’s it, or we could engage in more carnal activities.”

“I am hungry.” Warning bells were clanging in my head, but I couldn’t seem to heed them.

“Then let’s get you some food.” He led me down the street to the hotel. It wasn’t a ritzy type, but neither was it a no-tell-motel.

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