“I’m sorry,” she apologized again in her light, lyrical voice. “I- I didn’t mean to bump into you. I-”
“No harm done,” he assured her and quickly released her arm. The burn that started making its way up his hand and arm spread through his chest. He realized he might be a little drunker than he thought he was.
“I was just- looking for someone. My friend. I haven’t seen her.”
“Can I help you get a cab?”
“I really want to find her first.” Callie’s eyes widened and her lips parted. Her tongue swept out and danced across the most beautiful mouth he’d seen in a damn long time.
His cock jumped to life, already throbbing. The universe certainly had a wicked sense of humor. He’d just promised himself he was done with women. Done with all of it. Of course, whatever forces were out there saw fit to throw the most inappropriate, beautiful, goddess, siren of an admin assistant his way. Why? Why didn’t I ever notice her before?
He was about to suggest that he take her downstairs and call her cab, when her friend, the girl whose name he couldn’t even remember, staggered out of the ballroom and into the hall.
“Oh my god. There you are. I’ve been looking for you forever,” she slurred. It was obvious that she was far drunker than Callie herself was.
Oh god. It’s like the blind leading the blind. I’ll find them both a cab home. Together. Maybe one of them can get the other one into recovery position if she passes out…
“Chantara? Where did you go!” Callie whirled on her friend. “You knew you were supposed to help me-”
Her desperate statement was cut off when Chantara glanced upward. She giggled. “There is a mistletoe spring right above your head. You guys are standing right underneath it. Go on! Kiss!”
“That would hardly be-”
“I couldn’t-” Callie protested at the same time.
“Do it! It’s Christmas after all. It will probably be the highlight of this whole boring thing for both of you!”
Matt froze. Callie hesitated. She stepped forward awkwardly, as though spurred by some inner wildness, but she tripped on those heels she had on and tumbled forward. He caught her since she was only a foot away. She hit his chest hard and then her hands were searching, searing, hot. He reacted instantly like she was a match and he was a jerry can full of gasoline.
Her hands hit his shoulders and her fingers dug in. She was probably just trying to figure out what the hell was going on, but her touch did something to him. His head swam and right before he lowered his face to hers, he realized that he was really damn drunk. It was the only explanation. He’d never felt anything close to the crazy physical reaction that was going on at the moment. He felt wild, edgy in his own skin, frantic, animal. He was hot and achy. A shiver tore up his spine. His stomach tightened and his cock throbbed between them. He had a split second to hope that Callie couldn’t feel that part of it, or that she was too drunk to notice before his mouth crushed hers.
People talked about sparks and sensation and all that garbage. He’d once picked up one of his girlfriend’s romance novels, the real trashy kind about a rancher and his cook, and read a few pages out loud, just to piss her off. It just happened to be about a kiss and some groping. He’d never forget the way the author described it.
Because it was exactly how he felt.
Her mouth was glorious. Her lips were so incredibly soft. She tasted good, a hint of sugar and the underlying bitterness of gin. His eyes were closed, and lights really did flash behind them. It was a damn firework display in his head. Probably because his brain imploded.
It wasn’t just his head or his mouth that felt that kiss. It was everything. His entire body. He was completely winded when she pulled away and untangled herself. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but god, he gasped like it went on for hours.
She put a hand up to her lips, as though were tingling, shock in her light blue eyes. Eyes that were so blue they were nearly purple. Or grey. He couldn’t decide, but he was damn well going to find out.
Behind Callie, her friend laughed softly. What was her name? Chantara. That was it. She hooked her arm through Callie’s and urged her away as if nothing had happened. Callie didn’t even turn around and look back.
Matt watched them go. Her eyes. I need to know what color her eyes truly are. Did they change with what she wore? The lighting? Her mood? That’s ridiculous and completely inappropriate. She’s my damn PA. He was supposed to be done with all of that. He’d promised himself he was going to take a break and get his head on straight. Maybe do what Jason said and figure out how to put out a better vibe so he got better in return.