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“And here I thought you hated it because of your pain-in-the-ass coworker you wish you could strangle on a daily basis.”
Rosie laughed, her face turned into the snow. This was a lighter side of Rosie Simmons I’d never seen before. Despite her picture-perfect appearance, she seemed more relaxed and at ease. I might have blamed it on the spiked punch but she’d barely touched her cup. It had to be something else. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe it was simply the holiday cheer putting her in a good mood.
“I don’t feel that way,” Rosie replied. “I mean, I don’t want to strangle you.”
She glanced up at me and met my gaze. Half the party had drifted back indoors for warmth and food. A few people still lingered but since Rosie and I were practically standing outside, we might as well have been alone.
“You don’t?” I said, my voice quiet, searching, hopeful.
Rosie tugged my jacket tighter around her and shook her head.
“I feel…very differently than that,” she whispered.
My heart hammered against my chest. I shifted closer, brushing my knuckles against her cheek to wipe away a wayward snowflake. Her lips parted as her breath hitched, andmy God, the urge to kiss her had never been stronger.
Then Hackman called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous chamber of the apparatus bay.
“If we’re going to be snowed in together, I’m not waiting to break out the expensive booze. Let’s get some drinking games started already!”
Blinking, Rosie pulled back, putting distance between us by taking a step away.
“We’d better go inside. Don’t want to miss out on the good stuff.”
I stifled a prickle of disappointment and followed Rosie into the firehouse.
***
I don’t know how it happened, but I found myself pitted against Chief Wright and Rosie in a game of eggnog pong. Eddie Hackman was my teammate and he couldn’t aim for shit.
“You’re looking a little green around the gills, Lawson,” Chief Wright said with amusement in his voice.
“I’m doin’ fine,” I replied, fighting to prevent my words from slurring together.
Rosie picked up a ping pong ball and shifted forward as she prepared to toss it across the table. She didn’t even wobble on her high heels, didn’t sway despite the whirling of the room. She still wore my suit jacket too, loosely draped around her shoulders and gaping open at the front.
My gaze dropped to the scooped neckline of her top. Her tits always looked amazing - full, heavy, and soft - but with my pickled brain swimming in a small ocean of alcohol, the desire to suck on them, squeeze them, rest my head there and sleep for days drove me to distraction.
Rosie released the ball. It sailed through the air and easily landed in a red cup. She smiled so sweetly, pleased with herself. Chief Wright gave her a high-five. Hackman braced his hands on his knees and groaned. I thumped him on the back.
“This was your idea,” I said. “And I’ll never forgive you.”
“I didn’t expect Miss Prim-and-Proper Rosie to be so good at it.”
“Come on, Lawson,” Chief Wright said. “Stop stalling and chug that eggnog.”
Reluctantly, I picked up the cup.
“You seem to be enjoying this more than I thought you would, Chief.”
“And you’re just sore that you’re losing, Lieutenant,” he countered, delighted. “Badly.”
I retrieved a ball and squinted one eye shut, taking aim. After I sent it sailing toward Rosie and Chief Wright’s side of the table, the ball bounced off the rim of one cup and settled into another.
“Take a swig of that, Simmons,” I said.
Rosie held my gaze as she picked up the cup. Then she tipped her head back, gulping the eggnog down. I stared at the line of her exposed neck, the way her throat worked as she swallowed. My cock was definitely suffering and I was grateful that my suit trousers were dark enough to hide the hardness I was fighting to keep in check.
“Hey, who has the silver Honda with the gingerbread man bumper sticker?”
