Page 9

I went to the office to double-check Lark had closed the safe before locking up. I didn’t realize Tundra had followed me until I straightened from the safe and saw him leaning against the doorjamb.

God, I liked seeing him standing there like that. His thick thighs that promised to be powerful, his burly frame begging me to wrap my arms around him. His bearded face, normally firm and alert now loose and uninhibited. A moment before I tore my eyes from him, I saw the waxy green leaves of the mistletoe I’d jokingly hung there weeks ago.

Maybe there was hope after all.

I tucked my keys into a pocket of my dress (best sexy Santa dress ever). “You shouldn’t have followed me, kemosabe.”

“Why?” he asked, grinning.

I arched my brows and stared pointedly up.

He followed my gaze and then looked back to me. “Mickayla.”

I stepped into his personal space and slid my right hand under his cut. “A tradition is a tradition, Tundra.”

“We don’t want to do this,” he said, and put his hand on my hip.

I thought he meant to hold me away, but then his hand began to rub gentle circles on my hip.

“We? How do you know what I want?” I asked with a smile.

He sighed.

“It’s just a kiss, Tundra. Then I’ll drive you home,” I said, resting my wrist on his shoulder and cupping the back of his neck with my hand.

He stood at least five inches taller than me, so if he really didn’t want to kiss me he could stop it right now.

“You’re the one who hung that mistletoe shit, aren’t you?”

I cocked a brow. “Does it really matter? Quit stalling and kiss me.”

He tipped his head down, I went up on tip-toe and when our lips met it felt like a fuse lit between us. One that I knew would lead to an epic detonation.

I squeezed his neck as his bearded lips brushed mine. Something told me he would keep this brief. To prevent that, I opened my mouth and touched my tongue to his lower lip. I heard him inhale through his nose. Then he parted his lips, not to let me in, but to invade and ravage my mouth.

His hand at my hip glided around to my tush. I didn’t know if I’d get this chance again, so I moved my hand from his chest to find his free hand and guided it under my dress.

Was I being forward? Absolutely.

Was I like this with other men? No. Not even close.

Deep down I’d been crushing on Tundra for months. Would we work out? Maybe not, but I wanted him and I knew this was my shot. Another thing I knew: subtlety was easily lost on some men.

To my relief, he took my hint and squeezed my ass. I hiked a leg high alongside his thigh and he used both hands at my ass to pick me up.

“Yes,” I whispered against his lips.

He angled his head and kissed me even harder. My back hit the wall and he ground his erection into me. My hips bucked and I moaned.

When he broke the kiss, he hung his head such that his forehead rested on my shoulder. “Goddammit. That wasn’t just a kiss.”

“No. It was far better.”

His head snapped up. “This dress is torture. If I tugged on it just right, your tits would be on full display.”

“I doubt it, but to be very clear I’m down with that.”

“Mickayla. We can’t.”