Madison’s eyes bounced between us comically. They were as big as the salad bowl I’d just washed. “I’m sorry. Were we interrupting something?”
Oh, only the most monumental moment of my life. No biggie.
“No. You’re fine. All done.” Layla gestured to the spotless kitchen and the washed dishes stacked neatly by the sink. “Thanks so much for having us.”
“Hey, Grant.” Chase rubbed his knuckles along his jawline, his hawkish stare bouncing between us. “Can you do me a favor and bring my cigar box from my office?”
I squinted, ready to knock every single tooth in his mouth out, including the wisdom ones that had never even popped. “No, I cannot. You have legs. Go get it yourself.”
“He can’t,” Maddie piped up, twisting her fingers nervously. She was a good person, but a terrible liar. I didn’t know where this was going. I just knew they were being weird. “I forbid him to enter the office after six thirty in the evening.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Really, now?”
“Not even to take something and leave?” Layla appeared to be just as skeptical. “Hot damn. I knew he was whipped, but this is honestly impressive even by Chase Black standards.”
“What can I say?” Chase drawled wryly. “Happy wife, happy life. So, can you go get me that cigar box or what?”
I shook my head, exasperated. “Fine. Where is it?”
“Somewhere in there. You’ll find it. Layla told Maddie you know both where the clit and the G-spot are. I have every faith in you.”
“Oh my God!” and “Chase!” were screamed simultaneously while I tramped my way to my best friend’s office.
Once in his mahogany office, I rummaged around his cabinets and drawers. I couldn’t find the cigar box anywhere. It pissed me off that he’d sent me on an errand in the first place. The only reason I was playing along was to give myself time to take a breather from my moment with Layla and maybe give my blood a chance to redistribute itself from my cock to other organs in my body.
After five minutes of looking and not finding the cigar box, I headed out of the room and collided with another body.
Layla.
She was walking into the office just as I was exiting it.
“Oops, sorry. Maddie sent me as reinforcement to help you out.”
“It’s not there. I checked everywhere.”
“How weird.” She frowned.
“What the ...” I reached above my head to wave off something that was tickling my forehead. I looked up. It wasmistletoe.
“What in the world is mistletoe doing here?” Layla echoed my thoughts. “It’sJune.”
“Sorry, I don’t make the rules.” I grinned innocently, everything finally clicking together.
“You know.” Layla looked at me, then at the mistletoe again. “I’m half Jewish. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that. I’m kind of wishy-washy about Christmas.”
My heart sank. If she didn’t want to kiss me, I definitely didn’t want to force her.
I nodded. “Understood.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything. Ever. You don’t have to kiss me now. Or next year. Or the next decade. It still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”
I’d just stepped sideways, about to march to the living room and bite Chase’s head off, when Layla snatched my elbow and pulled me back. I turned around, surprised, and before I could register what was happening, her lips were on mine, her fingers were buried in my hair, and shewason her toes now, straining to reach me, to kiss me, to taste me.
I grabbed the back of her thighs in pure muscle memory instincts, hoisting her to wrap her legs around me as I kissed the living hell out of her under the mistletoe. Her back was pressed against the doorframe. Her breasts were flush against my chest, and I could feel her nipples hardening between the fabric of our clothes. I groaned into her mouth, lightheaded with need.
This kiss packed inside itself at least a hundred kisses. All the kisses we’d wanted to give one another and hadn’t over the past few weeks.
