The tinsel slips from my neck to the floor.
I stare at it for a long moment, the scent of cinnamon still hanging in the air, before muttering, “Fuck,” and sinking back into my chair, the leather creaking.
Mistletoe peeks out from under the tinsel garland, mocking me with its bright little green leaves. I reach for it, turning it over in my hand.
The door swings open again.
My pulse quickens as I take her in with glassy eyes.
She closes the door behind her with a huff. “You could’ve just said you didn’t feel the same.”
I stand, throat tight. “That’s not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying, Flint?” Her voice wavers, anger wrapped around something softer. “Because I’m tired of trying to guess which version of you I’m gonna get. The one who looks at me like I’m trouble, or the one who looks at me like I’m everything.”
My chest feels like it’s on fire. “You’re not trouble, Sera. You’re temptation.”
Her mouth parts, but she shakes her head. “Same thing to you, isn’t it?”
“Are you done being a brat?” I take two steps, closing the distance and caging her against the wall. “I guess it is the same thing. You’re a firecracker that’s gonna get me burned.” My nose brushes against her hot cheek. “You are everything, Sera. You’re everything I can’t have and you come into my office tempting me with mistletoe and mischief—and you.” I wave a hand down her body in the deep-purple dress that fans out around her thighs. My fingers itch to wrap around her throat and take what I want, but I’m not that guy. I’m Chief Sparks. Upstanding member of the community. Reliable. Restrained.Aroused.
“But you can have me.” She pushes her chest out, pressing her delicious tits against me. “You just need to have the balls to take what you want.” With a lungful of air, her tits rise against my chest, taunting me.
I have the balls. They’re just fucking painful right now, thanks to her.
I make a fist before I turn her around and spank her ass or squeeze it. Her scent of cinnamon is driving me insane. I want to drink her in like a cup of hot cocoa or eat her up like a Danish swirl sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. Either way, I want to feast on her essence, lick every curve of her body and every bit of her soft skin.
My son didn’t know what he had, and from the lack of noise that came from his room when she stayed over, he didn’t know what to do with her either. Many nights I’d lie awake wishing I could go in there and finish the job just to hear her moan.
I’m sick. Filthy. Depraved.
She reaches on her tiptoes, her lips dangerously close to mine. “I guess you’re not the man I thought you were.”
Before I can answer, she rolls her eyes, snatches the mistletoe from my hand. “No point in wasting this. I’ll have to get my kicks somewhere else.”
I growl. “Like hell you will.” I snatch the mistletoe back before she walks out the door a second time. I thought she had a boyfriend. The thought only just entered my mind—did Mason get it wrong?
Laughter outside dies down. All that’s left is the hum of the heater, the faint jingle of bells from the Christmas garland she placed on the door and the echo of her words.Then maybe you don’t deserve it.
I stare at the tinsel in my hand.
She’s right. I don’t.
But I want it anyway.
Chapter Five
SERA
Dockside Grill Group Chat
JoeyJo: Who’s out tonight?
Logan: Not me, I’m working. Bev called in sick again.
Russ: Ugh, again?
Logan: Said she needed a me day.
