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She doesn’t care if I fuck around with other chicks because she’s fucking other guys.
First time this scenario has ever annoyed me.
Tonight I didn’t bother calling first. Last time I went that route, she told me she was busy. I’m not giving her an out tonight.
I even have a present with me.
No, not my dick. That comes later.
Her driveway is dark, but that’s not unusual. Christ, I feel like a stalky dickwad. Her porch light is on, but her little Lexus sedan is nowhere to be seen.
Fuck.
I knew it was a risk coming all the way up here.
I’m still douching around in her driveway, trying to decide if I should wait or head back down to Empire when headlights come bouncing down the driveway. I swear my dick pulses to life at the sight.
* * *
Lilly
* * *
I managed to hold back the tears until I got in my car. Over the years, I’ve learned nothing can pierce your heart more than family. At thirty-three, it is scandalous that I’m not married and carting a bunch of kids around with me. Never mind that I paid for college and graduate school all by myself. That I bought my own house before I turned thirty with my own money. That I haven’t asked my parents for a dime since I left home.
If it wasn’t for my older brother, Alex, playing mediator, I wouldn’t have lasted through my mother’s mushroom soup with zaprashka—the first of twelve miserable courses I sat through tonight. Even though my mother bent her traditions a long time ago, and now celebrates Christmas Eve on the 24th of December instead of January 7th, the meal she makes has not changed.
How badly I wanted to take comfort in the familiar smells and tastes of my childhood. But once my mother got busy picking out my flaws and failures, it was only a matter of time before my father, aunts, and cousins joined the fun.
Lilly, when you gonna find a man to take care of you?
I can take care of myself, Babbo.
Nonsense, you’re getting too old to attract a man.
Zia Bruna, I attract plenty of men.
That one had not gone over well. I’m pretty sure my family still thinks I’m a virgin.
I hate to break it to them, but that ship sailed a long time ago.
Why hadn’t I moved farther away?
I could call my best friend, Sophie. Before her parents divorced, their strict expectations of her rivaled my own family’s. But she’s off in New Hampshire spending the holiday with her rock star boyfriend who has some downtime until after New Year’s.
After a quick stop at Stewart’s, I have a quart of my favorite eggnog in my possession. When I get home, I’m going to introduce the eggnog to the bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream I have stashed in my fridge. Then I’m going to crawl into bed and forget that I have to get up and do this again tomorrow.
My heart jumps in my throat at the sight of a black SUV parked near my house. Nestled at the end of a long, bumpy driveway, my house is isolated—which is how I’ve always liked it. My foot slips off the accelerator as I process what I want to do. Turn around and drive away? Call 911? Call Alex?
Before I can do any of those things, the door swings open and a big, black-booted foot steps out.
Z.
My mouth quirks. I swear to God, my nipples tighten and a slick rush of heat dampens my panties.
Christmas Eve just got a whole lot better.
* * *
Zero
“Z? What are you doing here?”
Her throaty voice gets me so fucking hard, my dick’s banging against my zipper.
Showtime.
Snagging the package off the front seat, I meet her in the driveway.
“Wanted to give you your Christmas present.”
She cocks her head in a way I don’t find all that comforting. But her hand reaches out to take the bag. Before her fingers skim over the brown paper sack, I yank it away.
“Nu-uh. Not yet.”
She plants a fist on her hip and gives me a cool stare that’s hot as fuck. “You don’t have to bring me presents if you want to get laid. You and your big cock are enough.”
Raising my hand and flattening my palm over my heart, I answer her in a wounded voice. “What a sweet-talker. Now, are you gonna invite me in? It’s so fuckin’ cold I can see your nipples through your wool coat.”
Her mouth twitches with a repressed grin. I’m gettin’ to her. Next thing I know, she’s standing flush against me, pushing me back in small steps until my back is against my car.
“Not so fast, sexy girl.” Slapping the bag on the roof, I flip places and pin her up against the car door. Her mouth forms a small “o” of surprise, but I take it in a rough kiss before she gets out a sound.
Then her hands are in my hair, pulling me closer. My arms snake around her waist, holding her tight to me.
Fuck, I’ve missed this. No one tastes like Lilly. Smells like her. Feels like her.
So fucking good.
Breathlessly, she pulls away.
“Do you want to come inside?”
Hell, fucking, yes.
* * *
Lilly
This is nuts, but I don’t care.
Breaking our kiss, I pull back as much as I can, trapped between Z’s hard body and his truck.
“What’s wrong, all your club whores go home for the holidays?”
He smirks, but a muscle tics at the corner of his eye. Maybe I offended him?
“Jealous, sexy girl?”
I flatten my palms over his chest with the intention of pushing him away, but I get distracted by the rock-hard muscles lurking under his warm, leather jacket.
I’m not wearing gloves, so I curl my hands, trying to warm my fingers.
He leans down, soft lips brushing against my ear. Warm breath tickling against my neck. “Come on, sexy girl, invite me in.”
A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold works over me. “I already did.”
“Then let’s go.” Reaching over me, he grabs the little brown paper bag off his roof and takes my hand,
“Wait, I’ve got stuff in my car that I need to bring inside.”
He waits while I grab my eggnog and the plate of cookies my aunt shoved into my hands before I left.
Once we’re inside, I’m oddly nervous.
Z is the only guy I’ve ever known who makes me nervous.
After taking off our coats, I lead him into the kitchen so I can put the nog in the fridge and the cookies on the counter. Almost shyly, Z holds out the paper bag to me.
“Condoms? You know I keep plenty of those,” I joke.
He doesn’t laugh.
“Open it.”
When I do, I almost cry, which is stupid. Inside is a canister of Godiva dark chocolate hot cocoa mix. “I can’t believe you remembered this. Where did you manage to find it?”
He shrugs casually, but his smile and the crinkle at the corners of his eyes, tell me he’s pleased with my reaction.
“You said it’s the only kind of hot chocolate you like, and you have to have hot chocolate on Christmas Eve, it’s mandatory.”
“Yeah, but the Godiva store at the mall closed. Where did you even find it?”
He shakes his head. “I have my ways.”
I’m not sure what to think of that. I know I’m probably reading too much into this, but the cocoa isn’t easy to find, which means he went to some trouble to track down this gift. For me. When that’s not what our relationship is about.
“Christ, Lilly, it’s a beverage, not an engagement ring. Calm the fuck down.”
