Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Me: You’re not giving a man much to go on.
My Secret Santa: It’s Secret Santa, duh. That’s why I’m being so secretive. Anyway, I need to get some sleep. We still need to get around to the whole gift thing, Grinch.
Me: Good night, I text.
I put the phone on the bedside table, close my eyes, imagine the taste and texture of her sensitive crests in my mouth, imagine my hand sliding up her leg, imagine her sex soaked with wetness.
At work the next day, I notice Mia looking at me again. It bothers me, mostly because her name isn’t Holly Harper, and no other woman apart from my best friend’s sister could interest me. Unquestionably, I’m broken on some fundamental level to have these thoughts.
All too soon, it’s time for Holly and I to drive to Mom’s place. I meet her in the underground parking lot of Dan’s building near my new car. She’s changed into an over-the-top red Christmas sweater with green jeans that make her look like the curviest, sexiest holiday ornament ever.
“Nice wheels,” she says.
I open the butterfly doors. “A man has to have his indulgences,” I say, looking at her, wondering if she gets my double meaning.
She climbs into the car, wriggling in a way that lights up my mind with ridiculous fantasies. She’s just getting comfortable, but I imagine her crawling into my lap, grinding her thick ass against my imprisoned manhood, making me hard, coaxing precome out of me.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
Unfairly jealous that you’re texting a man you don’t know is me, Holly. Guilty about keeping secrets from you, too. “Fine,” I grunt.
“Fine,” she says, mimicking my tone.
I chuckle. “Excuse me for not being artificially happy all the damn time.”
“I’m not artificially happy.”
That’s right. She knows how to fake it until she makes it. If I say that, though, I’ll be hinting that I’m her Secret Santa.
I drive without speaking for a few minutes.
“How’s your Secret Santa going?” she asks.
I glance at her, searching for any sign she’s playing games. The question seems innocent. “Not too bad,” I say vaguely. “You?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “My guy seems determined not to give me any gift ideas. He’s a real Grinch.”
“People have reasons for not enjoying the holidays.”
“I know. Bad stuff happens even this time of year and can leave a mark.”
Is that a hint about my ex? Dan must’ve told her she broke up with me around Christmas. “Are we talking generally here, Snowflake?”
She laughs. “Snowflake? Where did that come from?”
It’s a valid question. The last thing I should do is start giving her cute nicknames, especially when I’ve already given her one. Miss Goody Two-shoes, but she doesn’t know that’s me.
“It seems to fit,” I say, against my better judgment. “At this time of year, you seem to …” Shut up, Asher. “… sparkle, and you’re uniquely enthusiastic.”
“Well, thanks. I’ll take it. Yeah, I was speaking generally. Why, what did you think?”
I shrug. “I was wondering if Dan told you what happened to me last Christmas.”
“Yeah, he did, but I wasn’t speaking about your ex; I promise. It’s none of my business.”
The topic seems closed, then; it’s probably for the best. I don’t need to justify or explain to Holly, especially when she’s flirting with another man. Sure, this “other man” is me, but she’s unaware of that. I’ve got no right to be jealous or possessive, but I feel that way.
Sure, I could tell her the truth anytime I wanted. That would make things more complicated, not less.
“How are you feeling about this?” she asks.
“With Snowflake at my side? We’re going to kick this Christmas tree’s ass.”
She laughs. It’s just as sweet as she is.
CHAPTER 7
HOLLY
My life has changed a lot since the Secret Santa thing started. I’ve gone from not having any romantic interest to suddenly having two. I’m not sure that’s a fair way to think of it.
Asher is hot, muscular, funny, and charming when he wants to be. He’s everything a girl could want, even if being with him is impossible. Not only is he Dan’s best friend, he’s also a senior in the company. I deal with enough nepotism crap without adding that.
My Secret Santa is a stranger, and he’s not Asher.
So no, I haven’t got two romantic interests. Just two people messing with my head, and the only one I could imagine being with is off the table.
I decide to take my advice: fake it until I make it.
I switch on the radio. Of course, holiday music is playing—“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” Asher’s hands seem to tighten on the steering wheel of his sports car. He hasn’t changed out of his work clothes, a dark blue suit jacket draping off his annoyingly alluring frame.
“Don’t you like this one?” I ask.
“Not really,” he murmurs.
“I can turn it off.”