“Oh yeah.” His voice is deliciously deep. “Because I kind of hoped you were coming on to me.” He hooks three fingers on the robe and tugs it away.
And then I have a cute guy staring at my bare chest.
He licks his lips and leans in. His breath is hot on my skin. “I’m going to assume—” His head moves up, lips barely caressing my flesh until his mouth is just a hair’s breadth away from mine. “That you aren’t wearing any panties under that robe.”
“Unh,” I make a strangled noise and am glad he starts kissing me before he notices and doesn’t want me anymore.
I grab his hair as he breaks the kiss, moves down my body to tug at the tie of my robe. It falls open, then he’s spreading my legs. I squeak when suddenly his mouth is right there, and histongue is on me and in me, and I’m rocking against his face as he licks me like a candy cane until I’m riding that sinful tongue all the way to theNutcrackerfairyland. Sugarplums, Christmas cookies on fire. I know I’m gushing all over him as he licks me clean.
“Wow, that, um—” I swallow.
He looks up, smirking. “You want to take a break from solving a murder?”
I make a strangled noise. “That sounds scary crazy.”
“So you don’t want—” Hughes gives me a quizzical look.
Figures—the one time I get a man, I completely blow it. “Just give me a second.” I scoot around him then stub my toe on the coffee table as I rush into the bathroom.
What in the Christmas hell? Did I seriously just have Hughes’s tongue in my you-know-where? And now we’re, what, going to have sex on the couch?
I pace in the tiny bathroom. “You can have sex. You’re overthinking this. People have sex.”
I look down. In my post-orgasm clarity, I have to wonder, after all my holiday stress eating, is this really what a guy wants to see? Like, I’m going to have to take the whole robe off.
I’m freaking out for no reason. It’s just a hookup. People hook up. Gran hooks up.
I shudder and open up the cupboards, looking for a washcloth or alcohol. Instead, I find—
“What the hell is this?”
24
HUGHES
Dammit.“Look, Willow,” I say when she stomps out of the bathroom, basket in one hand, dildo in the other.
“Is this some sort of weird fetish thing? Did you steal this out of my shed?”
“Your grandmother bought you a new one. She wanted to make sure you had something you were familiar with.” I swallow.
“Oh God,” Willow groans, sinking onto the couch. “This is a disaster. I’d say I need to go home, but I can’t!”
“Hey, if you want to get out of sleeping with me, no problem.” I smirk. “I’m sure I can scrounge you a hotel room somewhere. Though we might have to go to the next town over. I’ll just jack off later, thinking about your tits.”
Two spots color her cheeks. She sputters, “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“Really?” I lean over her on the couch. “Don’t you want to unwrap my Christmas present?” I press a kiss to her neck.
“Mm-hm,” she moans.
I lean down to suck on one pink nipple. I’m rock-hard at how her breathing intensifies, turning into pants just from my tongue.
“Give me a white Christmas,” she moans, reaching for my pants.
I groan when she touches the bulge in my boxer briefs, grab her hair when she mouths against the fabric.
“Where do you want your white Christmas?” I can barely get the words out.
