Page 11 of Make or Break

“Surprised you don’t have a smart plug so you can use your phone to turn on the lights.”

I closed and locked the door. “No. Some things should stay old school in my world.”

He held up the bottle of rum. “You joinin’ me in a night cap? Or do you need to eat?”

“Definitely having a night cap. Feel like I need to catch up to you. You sticking with rum and diet?”

“If you got it, sweetheart.”

I nodded. “I do, but I’m gonna have my rum neat.”

He twisted the cap off the liquor. “Lead the way, barkeep.”

I put some extra sway in my hips and pulled down two glasses.

He nudged my hip with his. “Get the soda. I’ll pour.”

I came back with a cold can of Diet Coke, cracked it open, and poured a splash into one of the glasses. “Is that good?”

He nodded, then reached out and tugged at the top of my dress. It didn’t budge.

I chuckled. “Told you it wouldn’t be that easy.”

He glanced around my living room-kitchen-dining area combo. “That recliner looks old. Is it sturdy?”

The trailer came furnished, but the recliner was a former neighbor’s who’d left it on the curb five months ago. I’d had Killian move it for me.

I grinned. “It’s old, and sturdy enough for me. I didn’t pay for it, so if you’re planning to fuck me there, I don’t care if we break it.”

He sipped his drink. “Darlin’, you’re gonna fuck me there.”

I sipped my rum and tilted my head. “Are you so drunk you can’t do the work?”

While shaking his head, he shrugged out of his cut and hung it on the back of a chair. “Far from it. I can’t wait to get you on my lap in that get-up. Put your hat back on. You’re the sexiest Santa I’ve ever seen.”

“I am to please,” I said, leaning down to unzip my knee-high boots.

Tundra put a finger under my chin. “No, ma’am. You keep those sexy red boots on for now. I’m not joking about getting fucked by Ms. Claus. Didn’t know I had that fantasy, but here we are.”

My eyes widened at that, I straightened, and took a healthy swig of my rum. “That surprises me. I’d think in your line of work, you’ve seen the dancers at Platinum’s don sexy Santa lingerie and quickly take it off.”

He polished off his drink and put his glass down. “Most lingerie is sheer and leaves nothing to the imagination. I’m hard just thinking about what your tits are gonna look like with that white fur pushing them up so I can suck on one and play with the other while you bounce on my cock when I’m laying in that recliner.”

My mouth went dry at the visual he described. I downed the rest of my rum, and put the glass on the counter. I moved toward him.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “Can tell by the heat in those baby blues, you like that idea.”

“If it’s as good as you make it sound, I’ll love that idea. You’re wearing too many clothes, though.”

I tugged at his t-shirt, yanking it free right before he kissed me. It was even better than back at the bar. That first kiss, he’d held back. Now he had a hand in my hair and leaned forward to arch me over his arm.

Good gracious, yes!

He slid a hand down my torso, to my legs, then under my dress. His fingers grazed my slit over my underwear and I bucked my hips.

“Your panties gotta go, baby,” he said, kissing along my neck and sucking.

Oh my God, this was too much. I didn’t want it to end, and we’d hardly even started.