My little miss drunk and disorderly immediately shuts it down.
“Hey!” Pix yells. “Hands off my man.”
“Your man?” I chuckle. “I don’t see a ring.”
She snorts. “I own you, Lumberjack. I even have a receipt.” She wobbles, and I wrap my hands around her legs, steadying her for balance.
I place a kiss on her thigh because, damn, this slit is high.
When I lick a line up it, she squeals. And I’m not even sure how she ends up on my shoulders, but I fucking go with it as gold balloons and confetti fall from the sky.
A DJ says something unintelligible into a mic. The electric violet lighting hazes to deep amber.
“All right, Manhattan… because you’re all on the nice list, one more song.”
An eruption of applause fills the room as the last song of the night starts.
“Santa Baby” by Eartha Kitt.
I lower Pix down, her body sliding perfectly into mine.
“I like you, Lumberback,” she says, grinning wide as we sway to the beat.
“You’re drunk,” I reply.
“I still like you.”
“You just like my tongue.”
“I like that, too. I only wish…” Her words trail off.
A faint frown tugs at her plush lips. Before she can continue, a woman with a Santa hat on slips between us, cheerful, balancing a tray of shots.
“Merry Christmas,” she chirps. “Drinks are on the house.”
Pix and I each grab one. Fourth or fifth, I’ve lost track. I lift my glass to hers. “To red dresses.”
“And shirtless men.”
She clinks hers against mine as we toss them back like pros.
But when the burn fades, that frown is still there. I don’t like it.
I tip her chin so her big, glassy eyes meet mine. “Tell Santa what naughty little Pix wants for Christmas?”
Her smile breaks through. “A big, goofy lumberjack.”
Someone’s getting what they want.
I kiss her again as we sway together, laughing when we bump into another couple. “Whoops, sorry,” I murmur, holding her closer as I shift us out of the way.
Will I regret the shots I’ve had tonight? Definitely. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.
Pix is now. And so worth it.
The song fades, and I find her shoes. Which was harder than it seemed in the sea of abandoned stilettos. Or maybe I’m just seeing double.
When she falls into me again, I throw her over my shoulder. “Hey!” She giggles.
