Ripped (Miller Sisters 1)

I wondered what his secrets were.

Everyone had secrets, didn’t they?

I wouldn’t have minded discovering a few of his.

For once I wished our apartment were bigger. I loved it, but it wasn’t big enough for me to vanish to the bedroom without all twelve people around the table noticing. It was a miracle they hadn’t already noticed what was going on under the turkey. It was a good job Christmas was chaotic.

I really should have helped clear the table, but honestly I couldn’t stand up, let alone walk. All that gentle under-table stroking had driven me crazy. I was so, so close and the building desperation was killing me and yet still he was relentless, stroking and teasing until I had to clamp my thighs together to stop him.

I could feel him throbbing under my hand. Turning my head to look at him I met his gaze and saw that his eyes were darker than usual. Almost black. I shivered, wondering what it would take to make him drop his guard the way he had at the wedding. I’d never seen him laugh, but it occu

rred to me I’d never seen him show any other emotion either. Except desire. There was no missing that. It simmered in the depths of those black eyes and pulsed between both of us. I looked at his mouth and remembered how it had felt when we’d kissed. I knew that jaw would feel rough against my palms, because I’d had my hands on it only days earlier. I wanted to have my hands on it again.

I was so absorbed by him I was only dimly aware of my sister bringing in the Christmas pudding, a perfect dome of alcohol-infused dried fruit brought as a gift by one of our guests. Rosie had put holly in the centre, doused it in more alcohol and set fire to it in traditional British style. What wasn’t so traditional was that as she put it down on the table, the flame licked one the napkins. It caught fire.

Nico was on his feet instantly. Calmly, he doused the flames with a jug of water and then grabbed a pile of napkins and mopped up the water before it could do more damage. And all without ruining the pudding.

‘Hey, quick work.’ My sister looked shaken but she smiled at Nico and then at me, as if she was approving my choice.

I was starting to approve of my choice, too. The man might be a little uncommunicative, but he was good to have around in a crisis. First my dress, and now this. He wasn’t a man who hesitated. And I liked the way he helped my sister with clearing the table before sitting down again.

I was surprised our little fire hadn’t set off the smoke alarm, but Nico and I were producing far more heat than the flames on that pudding, so the smoke alarm was probably unconscious by now.

I’d stopped eating and so had he. I wished there was a way to make Christmas lunch go on forever because I didn’t want today to end. But of course in real life good things always ended.

‘We have to leave now.’ He spoke softly so that no one else could hear, not that they were paying any attention to us anyway. They were too wrapped up in Christmas pudding and conversation.

‘Of course.’ I hadn’t expected him to leave quite this soon and the level of disappointment appalled me. The whole idea of a sex-based relationship was to avoid these emotional lows. Clearly I was doing something wrong. ‘I’m sure you and Kiara have lots to do.’

‘I’m not leaving with Kiara,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m leaving with you.’

‘Me?’ My mouth was drier than overcooked turkey breast. The same couldn’t be said for the part of me that was under his fingers. ‘I can’t leave. I live here. It’s Christmas.’

He glanced at our friends, most of whom were by now laughing uncontrollably. ‘They’re happy. And I need to give you my gift.’

‘You bought me a gift? You didn’t have to do that.’ I felt a little embarrassed because obviously I didn’t have anything for him. Presumably he’d considered it an obligation to his host. ‘Why didn’t you just give it to Rosie when you arrived?’

‘It isn’t for Rosie. It’s for you. It’s personal.’

‘You could give it to me here.’

‘I don’t think so.’ He reached for his glass and I noticed that he was still drinking water. I wondered again whether this was all part of his determination to hang onto control. It scared me how badly I wanted to push him and rip it all back until I exposed the real him, but maybe that was because I’d been nothing but exposed in the past week, so it was definitely his turn.

‘Why not?’

‘Because my gift is just for you. Not to be shared.’

‘How do you know it’s something I want?’ I jumped as someone popped a cork on another bottle of champagne. The movement increased the friction against his hand and I almost moaned.

‘I know it’s something you want, Hayley.’

‘How?’

‘Because you’d already typed it into a search engine on your laptop.’

I was so distracted by the sensations exploding through my body, it took a moment for his words to sink in.

When they did, I turned my head again.