Page 113 of Hot As Ice

She nods, an impish smile on her face.

“What about all the orgasms I give you?”

“Yeah, those are a close second.”

I growl and steal a piece of bacon off her plate, since I already ate all of mine.

“Hey!”

“Liars don’t deserve bacon.”

She stands and walks over to me, running her fingers through my hair. I tilt my head back and she kisses me on the lips. The easy show of affection does something to my insides. As she looks into my eyes while playing with my hair, my heart beats faster. She kisses my eyelids, my nose, my temples. It’s almost too much to bear.

Is 21 too soon to get married?

thirty-six

stevie

HIGH SOCIETY PEOPLE really love their Christmas parties.

Hunter was invited to a ton on his family’s behalf this week, but he begged off all of them. Except this one. It’s at his father’s friend’s house. His father’s oldest friend, so he felt a deeper obligation to go to this one than any of the others.

Another huge estate. From the outside, it looks like one of those giant homes you only see in the movies, all red brick with multiple wings and vines growing up the façade, huge front doors, and a circular driveway. Inside, the décor is very dark and elegant. Dark wood furniture, leather couches, overstuffed velvet armchairs, Tiffany lamps, animal heads mounted on walls (I hope they aren’t real animals, but probably?), Persian rugs. One huge room is a library that even the Beast from Beauty and the Beast would be impressed by.

Hunter and I walk around a bit after saying hello to the hosts. Stunning Christmas decorations cover every available surface. I’m in awe. Hunter just looks bored. His family estate has similar vibes but much more modern furnishings and décor.

Hunter’s dad and Celeste are supposedly already here, but we haven’t run into them yet. Maybe because they don’t think the library is as cool as I do.

“Ready to move on?” Hunter asks, looking very amused as I read the spines of the books on the shelves.

“I didn’t think libraries like this were real,” I tell him. I pull out a hardcover copy of The Great Gatsby. The cover is a gorgeous black and gold art deco design. I have an urge to steal it.

“Put that back,” Hunter says, like he can read my mind.

“Do you think this is a first edition?” I ask, running my fingers over the raised design.

“No. The first editions are locked in that bookcase over there.”

I stare at him in shock. “Oh my god, they really have first editions here?”

He chuckles. “Baby, you have no idea.”

An excited squeal bursts out of me. “Can I see them?”

He shrugs. “Sure. Come on.” I follow him to a bookcase with a glass door. It’s locked like he said. I peer inside. The first edition books are displayed prominently. For Whom The Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway, Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton, To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, and, yes, The Great Gatsby in its original dustcover with the iconic blue cover. I think I might faint.

“Holy shit,” I breathe. “Becca would die if she saw these.”

“Why?”

“She’s an English major and obsessed with books.”

“You like books, too, clearly.”

“Yeah. I considered majoring in English but picked Communications instead.”

“I see.”