Page 55 of The Naughty List

I begin second-guessing taking her up on her offer.

Did she forget? Was it the rum? Was it just one of those niceties you offer to someone knowing they’d never be presumptuous enough to take you up on it?

“I guess it would be really intrusive, huh?” I chuckle. “I’m just teasing about coming along, I wouldn’t make you explain that situation to your family.”

“No, no. You should come.” She stops swaying and looks up at me.

“I appreciate it more than you know, Sadie, but honestly”—I reach up and brush her hair away from her face—“I know we were drinking, and I realize it was probably just a nice gesture that I took too literally.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it, seriously. Just be prepared for a little bit more of a low-key type of celebration. No penthouses or private chefs, just me and my mom in the kitchen while my two brothers drink PBR with my dad while watching A Christmas Story and laughing like they haven’t seen it eight hundred times already.” Her smile as she talks about her family is contagious.

“Okay, then. You’ve convinced me.”

“Besides, you shouldn’t spend Christmas alone, and you certainly shouldn’t spend it working, Mr. Snow.”

I flex my arm, pressing her body harder against mine. “For fuck’s sake, Sadie, call me Alex. I feel like your boss when you call me that.”

“You are my boss.”

I move my hips with hers, pressing myself against her as I put my mouth to her ear. “Not right now, I’m not. You’ve not only seen me naked, you’ve touched my hard cock and straddled me. Sweetheart, I think we’re well past being just boss and employee.” Her body tenses in my arms. “Tell me, Sadie, is that the only way you see me—as your boss?”

She inhales sharply. “What do you want me to see you as?”

Fuck me. This woman has no idea how much she already has me wrapped around her little finger.

“Hmmm, do you like to play these games, Sadie? Drive a man absolutely crazy, get him thinking about nothing but you, and then play coy?”

She stumbles, stepping on my foot.

“No, no that’s not what I—you thought about me?”

She really has no idea.

I stop dancing and tilt her chin with my finger, making her look at me. “Yes. Constantly. For the past two years.”

Before she can reply, someone rings a loud bell and the music cuts out.

The DJ’s voice crackles through the speakers. “All right, friends, it’s your favorite time of the night!”

“Oh shit!” She looks around the room then over to her friends who are pointing and laughing. “No, no, no,” she says, shaking her head and tugging on my hand to pull me back toward the table.

“What’s happening?” I ask.

“That’s right folks, it’s Finnegan’s annual mistletoe kissing contest! For all you lovely couples on the dance floor, make your way to the stage, and when the mistletoe is hung over you, you know what to do. Get those tongues ready!”

“Come on,” she says, tugging harder, but I tug her back until she stumbles against my body.

“What’s wrong? Scared of a little competition?”

“You’re not serious? No. We can’t.”

“I’ll go easy on you, I promise.” I don’t give her time to resist again. Instead, I pull her across the dance floor and up on the stage to join the four other couples.

“I’m never going to live this down.” She cringes when her friends start shouting and cheering along with everyone else.

“Okay folks, you know the drill. When Mrs. Claus dangles the mistletoe over you, you have ten seconds to show us what you got. We run on an applause meter here, so the couple who gets the loudest cheers will win two limited edition Finnegan beer steins, a $100 Visa gift card for a super sexy date night, and last—but certainly not least—these two I caught mommy kissing Santa Claus t-shirts.”

The DJ holds up a shirt with a cartoon image of a voluptuous woman kissing Santa, his hand on her ass.

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