“Every bit as good as I was hoping,” I admitted, taking two big swigs.
I hadn’t been drinking much recently, and I knew the tequila was going to go right to my head. But just this once, I wasn’t going to care. I was at a party with my friends. A hot guy was at my side. I was just going to enjoy myself.
That was exactly what I did.
I ate.
I drank the margaritas Venezio kept supplying me.
The lowered inhibitions had me chatting up the charity each time I spoke to someone new, so I had a purse full of cash and checks, even if my vision was a little too bleary to make any of the numbers out.
That was tomorrow-me’s problem.
“Hey, you two!” Andy called, making Venezio glance over, saving me the embarrassment of having him see me nearly miss the table I was trying to set my empty glass on. “You’re under the mistletoe!”
The two of us glanced up in unison to see that, yep, Andy had absolutely herded us under the hanging bundle of fake greens with little red berries.
“You have to kiss!” she yelled, her face red with her own inebriation.
“It’s tradition,” Drake chimed in, shaking his head like he was apologetic when I had money on him and Andy being in cahoots.
“It’s bad luck not to,” Adam added. I was reasonably sure he was speaking out of his ass on that one.
“You don’t—”
I started as I glanced back at Venezio.
I didn’t finish my sentence.
Because one second, he was just standing there.
The next moment, his hand was on the back of my neck, fingers curling in a way that felt possessive. I watched the intention in his eyes for a split second before his lips were suddenly on mine.
There was a chorus of whoops from the other partygoers.
But when the kiss that should have been a peck didn’t immediately stop, everyone went ahead and returned to their own business.
I barely noticed them.
The whole world fell away the second his lips pressed to mine.
Because Venezio kissed exactly how I thought he would—hard and deep, borderline rough. His lips slanted over mine; his hand curved tightly around the back of my neck.
His teeth grazed, nipped, tugged.
His tongue traced, teased, claimed.
My whole body went liquid, languid.
I melted against him, clinging.
A low, throaty moan escaped me.
And that, somehow, was what broke the moment.
Venezio pulled back.
I swayed.
