Page 236 of Rush

“Your turn, babe,” Riley says, eyes glittering with mischief.

She’s already cracking up. Luca too—though he’s watching her like she’s the only person in the room.

I open my box.

Inside: a see-through black lace teddy. And nothing else.

I hold it up by one strap and twirl it in the air, squealing behind Broderick’s hand.

His fingers twitch against my mouth.

“Merry fucking Christmas, Broderick.” I manage to squirm free, just before he clamps his hand back down again.

Broderick eventually piles my drunk ass into bed, dressed in nothing but underwear and his T-shirt.

“Stay with me,” I ask snuggling into his neck.

“I thought that was against your rules.”

“Fuck the rules, we broke all of them anyway.” I pout. “I’m cold and want to cuddle.”

“You mean you’re drunk and horny?” He chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed. I pull him into me planting a kiss on his lips.

“That too.”

“Alright, I’ll stay. Pretty sure I’ve left some clothes here and you’ve stolen a bunch of my clothes anyway.”

“Yay!” I squeal like a gremlin. Mine…all mine muhahahahaha.

The room spins and the bed shifts as he stands.

“You know,” I say, staring up at the ceiling while he brushes his teeth in the ensuite, “you’re kind of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever known.”

I hear him laugh through the rush of running water. “You’re only saying that because you’re tipsy and I’m shirtless.”

“With the biggest dick I’ve ever seen!” I announce—way too loud, grinning as I flop onto my side.

He chokes on his mouthwash.

“Is that so?” he calls back, voice dripping with mock offence. “And here I thought you liked me for my sparkling personality.”

“That too.”

Then he appears in the doorway, shirtless, a towel still in hand, briefs riding low. The bed dips under his weight as he climbs in beside me.

“And your muscles make mesooooohorny.” I giggle, squeezing his bicep with both hands like I’m appraising a melon.

“Jesus,” he mutters, but he’s smiling—eyes crinkled, voice low. “You’re wild.”

“Wild for you,BAYBEEEE.”

Broderick chuckles. “One moment, sweetheart.”

He lifts two makeup wipes and gently removes my makeup. It feels so nice, like I’m something to be cherished.

“There she is—all done,” he says, bopping my nose.

“Thank you,” I say, reaching for him. My brain is a fizzy mix of liquor and happiness.