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I want to slide onto his lap, to feel the cold of his body warm beneath mine, his dick awakening as I kiss warmth back into his icy lips.
How drunk am I?
Dammit. I need to stop staring, but I can’t drag my eyes away once I meet his. It’s like an understanding is passing between us. An acknowledgment that we’re not through.
This is nuts. We’re through and I’m drunk. I have to be.
“Hey, Jessie.” Scotty’s voice breaks through my lust fog.
“Hmm?”
“Behind you.”
Shit. I move forward, toward Nic. It’s no use. The red Ping-Pong ball follows in my wake.No!I surge to my feet, moving away from it, tangling myself on Nic’s legs. It’s too late. The red Ping-Pong ball touches me, and Mina sees.
“Lady’s choice! Nic, or…” Mina pauses, frowning at Scotty. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
I snatch the ball, toss it at the basket, and miss. Whatever, I need some liquid courage. The sparkling fruity drink adds to the fluttering in my stomach. Nic wouldn’t reject me again, would he? Because I don’t want to kiss Scotty.
Under the water, Nic grabs my leg and I hope that means he’s claiming this kiss. Setting the empty cup down, I sink onto his lap, carried by relief, the rush of booze, and the pulse of hormones. I can’t look away from the heat in his eyes, can’t stop my hands from sliding into his hair. It’s damp, half frozen between my fingers.
A lifetime passes in a second or two as we stare at each other. My fingers tighten.
His mouth meets mine, tasting of snow and beer. His hands are late but they make up for lost time, one on the nape of my neck, the other sliding under the water to pull me down on his hips. I tug on his hair, claiming his mouth with my tongue, the force of my need shockingly strong. He’s hardening underneath me, holding me tight so I can feel exactly what I’m doing to him.
I want him again. God. Dammit.
He pulls away, his eyes burning. Then—poof—the moment is gone. His cool gaze drifts away, his hands drop from my body.
Hoots and whistles break out around us, overwhelming the pounding of my heart. My face burns. That wasn’t how two people who hate each other kiss in a drinking game.
I’m ready to drown myself. In his eyes, in my booze, in the goddamned hot tub itself.
Nic leans back, returning to manspreading. I stare at him until he bounces me on his knees.
Shit! I’m still straddling him. I slip off his lap, horrified, nearly falling onto Scotty before finding my seat.
“Oh. My. God.” One of Mina’s friends—Charlotte—fans herself.
Under the water, Nic nudges me with his leg—are you okay?I nudge him right back.I’m fine, piss off.He nudges me again, turning it into a mini-war until I pinch his inner thigh, making him yelp.
No one notices because they’re all watching Timothy roll in the snow—or do gymnastics in the snow. Might be an interpretive dance. Who’s to say?
No one gives us a hard time about the kiss. We’re soon outdone by Danny and Charlotte. Others fall victim to white Ping-Pong balls and take the roll in the snow with a hell of a lot less dignity and a lot more noise than Nic had.
Nic pays no attention to the threat. He seems content to lean back, watch everyone around him act like idiots, and occasionally bump me with his knee. I ignore him.
He kisses me again five minutes later when a red Ping-Pong ball bumps into him. What the hell is drawing these bastards toward us? This time he merely turns toward me, his reasonably chaste kiss hotter for how exposed it feels with only our lips touching.
The green Ping-Pong ball floats right into Nic. He isn’t looking—he’s staring at the sky while I sit silently, leaning forward so I don’t end up under his outstretched arm behind me.
“Strip, Fontana!” Mina calls out, winking at me when she catches my eye.
That’s it. I’m out. If I see Nic naked again, I’m not going to be responsible for my decisions tonight.
I excuse myself, scrambling out of the hot tub. The blast of cold air on my skin brings some relief. Until those black boxer briefs hit the ground next to me. I ignore the squeals and giggles mostly—but not exclusively—coming from Mina’s friends Lexi and Charlotte.
Nic’s hand brushes my calf, jolting me. “You okay?”
