A Holly For X-Mas - Page 11

I’m going to kiss her. I need to taste her soft mouth. I want to consume her breath and steal her sweetness.

Her chin tilts up and her eyes fall closed as I cup her jaw with my hand, my eyes locked on her mouth. She’s so gorgeous all sparkly and Christmasy. Holding champagne next to the lit-up tree. I feel like I’ve stepped into a damn dream.

I take a second to admire her before diving in, about to seal my lips to hers.

“Nate!”

I yank my head to the side and see my older sister and her husband approaching with her arms wide open, big smile on her face.

Fuck. Worst possible timing.

Holly’s eyes snap open and she turns to Sandy, looking a little unsteady. She was wanting the kiss as much as I was.

“Tom said you were here with a girl and I just had to see it with my own eyes!” Sandy hugs me and rests her hand on my arm. “Are you trembling? Why are you shaking like this?”

I haven’t stopped shaking since I met this angel. She belongs on the top of the tree.

“I’m fine,” I grunt. “This is my girl, Holly. Holly, this is my sister, Sandy, and her husband, Doug.”

They all shake hands and I have to fight back a growl when I see Doug’s hand sliding into Holly’s. He’s been family for over a decade, but I still don’t like seeing them touch. I guess I’m a possessive fucker like that.

“I love that dress,” Sandy says as she looks Holly up and down. Doug’s eyes are about to follow his wife’s, but I clear my throat and give him a warning look. He understands immediately that this girl is not to be gawked at.

“I’m going to go freshen up my drink,” he says before quickly fleeing. Good move. Doug was always a smart one.

“How did you two meet?” Sandy asks.

“Holly came crashing into my life at the perfect time,” I say with a grin. “I didn’t know what hit me.”

She giggles and my heart nearly collapses in on itself.

“So, has it been long?” Sandy always wants all the details. Every family has a gossiper and she’s ours.

“It’s felt like a lifetime,” I say as I take my girl’s hand. “It feels like I’ve known this beauty forever.”

“And it feels like I’ve been waiting for this man my entire life,” she says as she puts her palm on my back, rubbing it. My eyes close. My brain stops functioning with her hands on me. “But he’s here now. We’re making up for lost time.”

“How’s the dealership going?” I ask Sandy. Her and Doug own a luxury car dealership in town. They do very well. I don’t care about anything except getting to know my girl right now, but I want to change the subject off of us. If Sandy finds out that we just met an hour ago, she’s going to tell everyone at this damn party.

“Fine, fine,” she says, waving dismissively at me. “Back to you two. Where are you from, Holly?”

I look at her, wanting to know the same thing. I should be asking these questions, not my nosy sister.

“I’m from here,” she says. “I live in town.”

“Oh.” Sandy nods. “And do you go to school? College or… high school?”

I glare at her. “She’s an adult, Sandy. Geez. She’s… how old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“She’s twenty-two.”

“It’s just that…” Sandy starts to mutter. “You’re over forty now…”

“Okay, that’s enough of that.” I grab my girl’s hand and bring her out of there. Why can’t they understand that love knows no age? That I would die for this woman? That I would kill for her?

I clutch onto her hand in a possessive grip as I lead her through the party past Crystal’s colleagues at the hair salon. She’s tried to set me up with all of them, but I said no to each one. I didn’t know it then, but I was waiting for Holly. My heart must have known it, even if I didn’t.

“Where are we going?” she asks as we hurry down the hallway past the door that leads into the garage.

“Down here,” I say as I open a door that leads to the basement. It’s not a crappy basement like you’d find in most houses. Tom has a full-on man-cave down here. Huge bar, pool table, two bowling lanes, a fifty thousand dollar gaming station, enough TVs to watch all Sunday football games at once. The only thing this house is missing is a library. There’s not a book in sight.

“Wow,” she says as she looks around in awe. “Was this house designed by a teenage boy?”

I laugh. “It was designed by my brother, so basically, yeah. He’s like a fourteen-year-old trapped in a man’s body.”

I’m still gripping her hand as we hurry past it all. Some of his gaming buddies are in front of the big TV, playing some stupid game and being loud about it. We’re headed in the opposite direction.

Tags: Olivia T. Turner Erotic
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