Filthy Scrooge

Why I had brought this woman up here, I didn’t know. Maybe I was just tired of being alone. Maybe I was tired of viewing Christmas in an alcoholic haze.

Maybe a lust-filled one was better.

“Spread your legs, Miss Kane.”

11

Kay

My breathing stopped and the lights outside shimmered as my oxygen-starved brain fuzzed. The coolness of the glass under my hands made Linc’s touch feel that much hotter. His nose brushed along my neck, followed by his li

ps, open-mouthed and hot on my skin.

I groaned when his tongue flicked over my pulse point. “Do you honestly expect me to believe you don’t want this?”

I did want this.

More than anything.

I just couldn’t get past the anxiety building in my belly and flowing out to my muscles. I was too tense. It was like all the liquid pleasure living inside me was trapped inside a candy shell.

I almost laughed at the analogy.

To prove it, I opened my thighs, shifting my foot over until it bumped into his shoe.

He stepped back a little, but his fingers remained caged over my wrists. “Wider.”

Once I’d obliged him, he trailed his fingers over my midriff. “So soft.” Instead of moving up to my breasts, he arrowed down into the waistband of my skirt and teased along the lacy top of my panties. He didn’t dip his fingers under, just kept tracing the lines of silk and lace.

When he fit his hard length against my ass and moved in a slow, grinding rhythm, I relaxed a little.

“Remember the song we danced to? I watched you from across the room. The way you moved so effortlessly. You didn’t give a good goddamn that anyone else was in the room.”

“Dancing is different,” I whispered.

“Not at all.” He nipped at my ear then turned his face away. “Alexa, play ‘Fades Away’ on repeat.”

A voice came out of the dark. “Playing ‘Fades Away’ by Gavin Haley.”

“You remember the song?”

“I couldn’t stop listening to it after you ran off.”

My hands tensed under his.

“It’s all right. It’s just us and a few hundred miles of snow. We can take all night.”

With his other hand, he gripped my hip and moved us to the slow, undulating beat. With each watery echo of lyrics, I lost myself in his touch. I was drowning in him and the chaos outside and the beacons of white light on the lake. What was before me echoed how he made me feel.

Chaos and light.

Was he a beacon of hope, or a light that would send me crashing against the rocks?

I wasn’t entirely sure I knew or cared right then.

The shell I’d been trapped in cracked and we moved as one. A ghostly version of his face showed in the window, intense and focused on me.

His fingers coasted up and down my middle. From my hip, along my ribs, cupping my breast, then back down to start again. The song blended into one loop of gentle snaps and tones.