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He ditches both our coffee cups on Sam’s desk before taking off down the hall toward his private office suite. I have to run to keep up with his long strides, but luckily, I make it in time to see his face as the door swings open.
His eyes widen. “Damn.”
Julian’s office looks like the bargain bin section of a holiday store, with the obscene nutcrackers lining the shelves behind his desk and the eight-foot inflatable lawn decoration of Santa riding a dinosaur.
A nice touch, if I do say so myself.
He quickly turns his attention toward the tree standing in the corner beside the window facing the road.
He shakes his head hard enough to ruffle his perfectly styled hair. “This is the tackiest setup I’ve ever seen.”
“I know.”
“It could be your best prank yet, but I have to check my list.”
His admission makes my cheeks warm. “You think so?”
He smiles at me, and I lose all train of thought.
“Not better than the time I snuck your car onto that floating dock and anchored it to the middle of the lake, but close enough.”
I grin at the memory. “You haven’t seen the ornaments I picked out yet.”
Julian motions me toward the tree, and I spend the next five minutes showing off all the ornaments I chose, earning a couple of deep chuckles from the formidable man beside me.
He carefully places them back on the branch. “I can’t believe my mother was in on this.”
My laugh steals his attention from the tree. “In on it? She was practically running the whole operation once I told her about my idea.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Tons.”
“Good.” He steps toward me.
“What are you doing?” I take a step back.
“You had your fun, so now it’s my turn.”
“Julian…”
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and slams his lips against mine, killing my protest with a single kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Julian
Iwanted to kiss Dahlia since I saw her sitting by herself, sipping on a cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone, doing God knows what at six a.m.
Dahlia isn’t a morning person, which should have been my first clue that something was wrong.
Her prank was great—master level even—but I can barely appreciate it when all I can think about is kissing her stupid.
So I do just that.
At first, she is surprised, but it only takes her a few seconds to match my tempo. Her nails dig into my skin from her tight grip around my neck, and I pay back the bite of pain by sliding my hands through her hair and tugging at the roots until she gasps.
Kissing Dahlia feels like a battle of teeth and tongues as I fight the temptation to hike up her skirt and fuck her againstmy newly decorated desk.
