Mistletoe Kisses

Probably because of the town festival, the room is decked out in holiday cheer. It doesn’t even look like a hotel room, more like a cozy, luxurious studio apartment.

Ahead of us is a black couch in front of a television. There’s a fireplace along the wall, and in the corner by the window there’s a lit Christmas tree with red ribbons tied on some of the branches, but no ornaments. Even though the main lights weren’t on when we came inside, the room wasn’t dark given the glow of the Christmas lights.

To the right of the living area setup, the king size bed is made up with thick, warm-looking blankets and lots of fluffy pillows. There’s a bench at the foot of the bed, a chair along the wall, and then an arch leading to an impressively long hallway. A leather ottoman in the middle of the hall draws the eye. It’s easy to imagine naughty things taking place there—a naked woman with her ass in the air and her partner behind her, ready to thrust into her.

I swallow, looking beyond the ottoman. There’s an enormous bathtub at the end of the hall, so I know that must be the bathroom.

“This is really nice,” I remark as I start to unbutton my coat.

Cal doesn’t say anything, just peels off his damp coat and finds a closet to hang it up in.

A smile curving my lips, I peel my coat off and go over to join him. “Do you have a thing about hanging coats up? You’re always so proper when it comes to this.”

He shrugs, grabbing a second hanger and draping my coat over it. “I wouldn’t say I have a thing about it.”

“I usually just throw mine on a chair,” I inform him.

Nodding to the chair where I already dropped my purse, he remarks dryly, “Yes, I can see that.”

Once I have my coat off, I excuse myself to the restroom. The bathroom is really strange, like a main chamber where the gigantic bath tub is, then other doors off to the left and right.

I go right first, but when I open the door, it leads to a large shower room with tiled walls. There’s a rain shower head, a standard head, and attachments on the wall. A marble bench offers seating, and the shower is big enough to comfortably fit four or five people.

I back out of the shower chamber and try the next door. It’s a closet, and inside I find fluffy white bath robes and newly packaged slippers.

I close that door and wander over to the bath tub. I drag the palm of my hand along the cool ceramic, eyeing up the attachments on a rack behind the faucet.

There’s something quietly sensual about this suite, like it was built for languorous pleasure. I can imagine soaking in this tub, Cal sitting on the wooden stool in front of it, taking in the sight of my naked body as I bathe. I can even imagine him taking it further, grabbing the attachment with the sprayer and aiming it between my legs, the force of the water hitting the most sensitive parts of my body, leaving me desperate and breathless—making me come while he watches without ever even touching me.

My teeth sink into my lower lip, but I force myself to move away from the tub and open the last door, which leads to the actual toilet.

When I get back to the main room, Cal is on the phone. He’s frowning, his voice irritated—arguing with someone?

My eyes widen as it hits me all of a sudden: oh my God, I completely forgot about Percy!

Hastening to the chair where I left my purse, I open it and dig my phone out. Sure enough, there are several text messages and one phone call from the guy I unintentionally stood up.

I swipe the screen and quickly text back a vehement apology. I type as quickly as I can, explaining what happened but leaving Cal out of it. I refer to my club’s faculty advisor as my companion on the trip and send a wall of text, littered with apologies.

Cal ends his phone call and sighs, raking a hand through his hair and then looking back at me. “Well, that was the auto repair shop.”

“Is your car done?”

“No. And it’s not going to be done tonight. Apparently, the shop is closing up early so everyone can make it home safely before the roads get too bad.”

Eyes widening, I ask, “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re stuck here. Or, I am, at least. You’re going to have to call your mom.”

If he’s stuck here, I want to be stuck with him. After last night, I can’t bring myself to say that, though. “And tell her what? To come get me?”

Cal shrugs. “If you want to.”

His wording causes my heart to flip over. “Is there an alternative?”

Flicking a glance out the window at the falling snow, he suggests, “You could tell her the roads aren’t safe, and ask if it’s okay for you to stay the night here. Tell her there’s an inn with two rooms left and your faculty advisor is willing to pay to put you up for the night since we’re hearing it’s not safe to drive home.”

Is he suggesting what I think he’s suggesting? Spending the night together?