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All I want for Christmas is Yoon

Page 23

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I pull out and thrust deep. Digging her heels into my lower back, she matches me stroke for stroke. Our bodies slap together, and I eat at her mouth between thrusts. She opens her mouth in a silent scream as her body stiffens, and her walls flutter around me. The tension building in the base of my spine gives, and she milks me. Groaning, I fill her. I mark her neck with a bite the same as I mark her wet channel with my seed. I’m not letting Hartley Warren go.

Chapter Four

Hart

It’s the final day of the contest, and I’m not sure where I stand for chances of winning. It’s down to two other contestants and me—Karen from Maryland and super-fan Samantha from the Los Angeles area. Korean American actress Minji Hak is co-hosting with a group of popular Korean actors from K-Dramas with a similar vibe to bring in the crossover audiences.

“We are down to our final three. The first contest will be a sudden elimination,” Minji says.

The audience gasps, and I swallow hard. Everything is riding on this.

“It’s time for pillow fight!” A padded, round, red balancing beam is brought on stage along with tumbling mats. How does this involve a pillow fight?

“The point in this game is to remain seated—the first one to knock the other off wins. We’ve randomly selected our first two players. Karen and Hart.”

I flash a concerned look at the judge’s table. Yoon winks, and my nerves settle. The effect he has on me is terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. It’s like sky diving out of a plane and trusting all your equipment will work. I don’t know how we’ll make things work for us on opposite sides of the country, but I know a good thing when I have it. I’ve spent every night this week in his bed, falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his sweet kisses. I want to be there forever—

No, it’s too soon to be thinking things like that.

They hand us both oversized pillows, and we walk over to straddle the bea

ms. Situating myself, I grip the rounded structure with my legs.

“On the count of three. One, two, three! Pillow fight.”

The pillow mass slams into my head and my face. I close my eyes and guess where Karen is. Ducking my shoulders slightly, I aim for her core: side, stomach, and head. I swing with all my might. She lands a hit to the side of my head, and I slide to the side and flex my thighs, retaliating with another round of blows. I watch as Karen topples and falls to the side. She hits the mat, and a buzzer sounds. I unlock my aching legs and let myself slide to the side after her.

“Hart has won!” The audience cheers, and I rise to my feet. Minji walks over and holds my arm up. “The winner!”

I grin graciously.

“We’re down to two! Will Hart win it all for her sister, or will Superfan Samantha fulfill her ultimate dream? Tune in after the commercial break to find out.”

“And cut. Time to retouch make-up and set up for the final round,” the director calls.

Cameramen shift, and I’m steered off stage, mostly to blot down the shine from the lights and reapply concealer and a fresh coat of powder. I bow my head silently, praying as I sit in the green room while Samantha has her turn to be touched up. I didn’t come all this way to let my family and my town down. I don’t want Fiona to watch me lose on national television. Nerves hit hard, and I shift in my seat.

All too soon, we’re being lead back on stage.

“This is a classic game. The silver box.” Minji gestures toward the man in the black pants, white suit, and tie who walks over holding a silver box. I remember watching this game. “The object is to discover what’s in the box the fastest. Now you can only use your eyes for this one, ladies. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” we both cry.

Samantha looks at me with a fierce light of competitive spirit in her eyes. A smug smirk gives me pause. What does she know that I don’t?

“On three. Count it down with me, everyone. One, two, three!” A buzzer sounds, and the man sets down the silver box. He lifts the handle up slightly. I duck down, desperate to catch a glimpse of the item. I see a sliver of green before he closes it.

“Bell pepper,” I cry.

“Watermelon,” Samantha responds.

The man returns to his position once more. Crawling on the floor like an inchworm, I try to keep up with his evasive maneuvers as he lifts the lid and slams it down quickly again.

“Avocado!” Samantha yells.

Ding. The core board across the room gains a one.

“You’re right!” Minji yells.



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