Tangled in Tinsel (a holidates series)

Music plays quietly in the background as Alec hands me a glass of wine, sitting next to me on the couch.

“Here. It’ll take the edge off.”

“Thank you, but I shouldn’t.”

He frowns, keeping the red wine in his hand. Once the snowstorm started this morning, it didn’t stop. Now the reality of what’s ahead is beginning to sink in. I’m stuck here. For god knows how long.

I don’t even know how long it’ll take to clear the road. And I don’t have a charger for my phone. And, and, and…the “ands” are building. Alec gently nudges my shoulder with the wineglass.

“Take it. It looks like whatever’s in your head needs to be silenced.”

I frown because all my worry must be written all over my face.

“If you’re worried about professionalism, then stop. You’re not on the clock anymore, Samantha. And if you haven’t noticed, time stopped existing a few hours back. We have days here, maybe a week, so says the county. They’re tentatively planning to clear the roads on Monday. So we might as well enjoy ourselves for the weekend. It’s not as if we’re not stocked for all the fun to be had.”

I feel silly the moment he says it because he’s right. I’m not on the clock. And it’s Friday. There’s an “and” I should get behind.

I’m looking at everything the wrong way. Instead of freaking out about being snowed in, I need to think:

I’m snowed in at a luxury, fully stocked cabin with four hot guys briefed on the latest storm news and not sweating the small shit.

I’m in good hands.

“Sold.” I smile, taking the glass. “This is probably one of the more bizarre situations I’ve found myself in. And that calls for wine. Also, thanks again for giving up your room for me.”

Alec nods before sipping his scotch, then leans sideways, adding conspiratorially, “Guess what, it has a charger for your phone.”

I smile as he adds, “Plus, I’m secretly glad you’re stuck with us. Want to know why?”

My brows raise, inviting the answer, but I take a sip, hiding how nervous I am being this close to him. This is going to be my own personal horny hell all weekend.

“Without you”—he grins—“I’d be stuck with these idiots drinking too much while they try to out-stupid each other. You have no idea the trouble we manage to get into together.”

My lips rest against the wineglass. The idea of them on their worst behavior is appealing. Alec winks like he’s read my thoughts before finishing.

“But now they’ll be on their best behavior. Unless you request differently.”

“So all the fun’s up to me, huh?”

I meant it innocently, but somehow the raise of Alec’s brows has me blushing again. My head shifts toward the three different Christmas trees that are now shining brightly with twinkling lights reflecting off the dark windows. I take an even bigger swig of my wine, hoping it’ll help me chill out before I try a new subject.

“It’s a shame something so beautiful will go unseen. I’m happy I put the finishing touches on the last one once you held me hostage.”

I look back toward Alec, but Cole catches my eyes. He’s sitting in a high-back leather chair. His black tie is long gone as he undoes the top button of his dress shirt.

Cole was the only guy dressed as if he’d been at work. He probably had been. He seems like the type to never relax, even for a Christmas party. So serious and single-minded. It makes his whole demeanor more severe than the others.

I blink, trying to disconnect from him. But it’s no use because I’m locked onto the way his tongue is trailing over his bottom lip. It’s wiping up the leftover whiskey from the drink he just took. Just as I start to look away, Cole locks eyes with me.

It’s the kind of eye contact that doesn’t waver. The kind that makes you nervous. And the kind that leaves you believing this man can fuck.

Alec’s voice caresses my thoughts as Cole minutely lifts his drink in cheers.

“I think everyone appreciates the beauty within this room.”

Before I can speak, Jace yells my name, pulling everyone’s attention toward the kitchen. Except for mine. No, I’m still staring at Cole. I blink a few times quickly. Hold on. Did I see that right?

Did he mouth what I think he said? No, there’s no way.

But still, I squeeze my thighs together before jerking my head to the side, feeling dizzy.

No more wine for me. Alec said to enjoy myself, but some lines never need to be crossed. Ever.

“Please tell me you know how to cook,” Jace calls out.

I narrow my eyes, ready to mess with him and ignore Cole. “Why? Because I’m a woman.”

“No, because you’re the smartest one here. I assumed self-preservation won out a long time ago over sheer laziness.”

Reed chuckles. “And because you’re a woman.”

“Eww,” I snark but still stand up, walking toward the kitchen. “None of you know how to cook? Seriously? It’s a basic skill, guys.”

“No. But we like to eat,” Reed offers, looking me up and down.

Why does everything these guys say feel like a double entendre? It’s because I’ve worked myself into a horny mess, that’s why. Still, the others smirk. And it feels illicit—so very fucking illicit. Or that’s how I’ll remember it tonight when I’m alone in bed.

I stand quietly while they settle around me, enjoying the view as Reed hops up on the counter, reaching for the cheap bottle of whiskey. But instead of waiting for another pleasurable zinger, I turn to grab for the apron hanging from Jace’s fingers.

But Alec shakes his head, giving me a twirling motion as he approaches. My teeth find my bottom lip again, butterflies erupting as I spin around. His arms encase me, hooking the apron over my head before pulling it snug around my waist as he ties it. Tight. My body gives a little jerk at the end before I feel him close in—his lips near my ear.

“All done. Now be good and get to work.”

For fuck’s sake. Well, I guess we’re all going to get food poisoning.

Because there’s no way I’ll be able to focus enough to make it through dinner without salmonella and E. coli gang-banging this party.

Two hours later, the laughter around the dining table proves nobody died eating the spaghetti I made. Or maybe it just proves that enough alcohol can kill all bacteria. Because the guys have had their fill of whiskey and scotch. But despite my worries, dinner’s been amazing. Electric, even.

“Okay, so tell me, how did you all meet? Did you grow up together? Was this always a bromance for the ages?”

Jace leans back in his chair. “Alec and I played for the Pats and Niners together a hundred years ago. I was the last to join the group. All these assholes knew each other before.”

I look at Alec. “You were a quarterback, right?”

He nods, but Jace huffs, “Quit fangirling. I made him look good with all my touchdowns. So don’t get too dreamy over there, cutie.”

Jace’s faint Boston accent gets stronger when he’s been drinking. I’ve been melting all night, even if I’m laughing currently.

They begin to spar verbally about who the real MVP is, making me smile harder. That is until my teeth find my lip because I’m suddenly picturing them in those tight white pants, helmets in hand, shirtless. I bet their skin always tastes like the perfect kind of saltiness.

My warming cheek meets my shrugged shoulder, brushing over it just as Reed cuts in.

“Remind me how you two manage our company? What’s with all this ego?”

The table erupts with “Come on” and “Pot, kettle” as napkins fly in Reed’s direction. He shifts his body to face me, acting like he’s protecting me from the onslaught, bringing our faces closer together.

His breath is minty. Probably from the gum he’s slowly chewing while staring at me. However, I can’t bring myself to look into his eyes because it feels too intimate…too exposed. So instead, I stare at his mouth.

And those lips, attached to that mouth, blow me a small kiss before he rights himself, addressing the table.

“Settle down, animals. There’s a lady here.”

I roll my eyes, pretending not to replay what just happened in my head. But Reed turns his head toward mine, his eyes darting to my cheeks and then back.

“You realize that if I weren’t here, nobody would know what fork to eat with.” He winks. “You can thank me later for the things I’ve taught them.”

There’s a beat of silence before Alec chuckles.

“Don’t listen to him, Samantha. He’s just an Upper East Side snob. A rich prep school charmer who likes to remind us he’s slumming it as our COO. See, Cole and I came from a different kind of neighborhood. Nobody cared what fork you ate with—but they might stab you with one.”

Reed laughs a deep bass that makes me want to hear it again. I look around the table at the guys. You’d never know that any of them were ever unpolished. And somehow, the idea of a gentleman mixed with a little thug makes my mouth water just as much as a rich, arrogant prick.

I shift in my seat, facing Reed as he links his hands behind his head, kicking his legs out under the table. The muscles in his biceps are deliciously on display, even in the navy sweater he’s wearing, making me feel cheeky.

“So you went to a prep school? Like the one in Gossip Girl?”

Jace grins, picking up on my teasing tone as I add, “Did an anonymous person talk about all the dalliances of your day? Was there a scandal? Did you know any girls named Blair or Serena? Were you the real Chuck Bass, running around saying things like, ‘I’m Reed Forthman.’”

Reed’s hand shoots out, tickling my side, making me squeal.

“You little smartass. Do you think I didn’t watch that show? Chuck Bass is a pussy. For your information, I went to Hillcrest Prep. The number one school in the country.” He leans in closer, and I laugh less because his hand slows, kneading. “Yes, people talked about me as they should. Yes, there was a scandal. Because I caused it. And yes, I knew many girls. I’m sure at least two were named Blair and Serena.” His eyes are locked on mine as he tilts his head. “But I never did meet a Samantha.”

A coy smile blooms slowly on my face.

“Well, then, I’m happy to be your first.”

His eyes say fucking tease as he looks at me. And he’s right because that’s precisely what I’m doing against my better judgment.

I shift back to everyone else, trying not to look affected. But it’s hard as his hand glides over my stomach, retreating. Damn. I shouldn’t do this. This is bad, right? Right?

The naughtiness of the moment keeps a poorly hidden grin on my face.

I clear my throat, looking at Cole. “And you? How’d you come to be in this group?”

“Alec and I grew up together,” he offers, not elaborating.

But his eyes dart to Reed’s hand, brushing my hair away from my face. Cole leans forward, forearms on the table. “In Chicago. Reed and I met in college.”

“Yale,” Reed offers with too much big dick energy.

Alec clinks the ice in his glass. “But tell us about you, Samantha. Because that’s what we’re really interested in.”

Why am I suddenly shy? It’s all eyes on me. The unyielding, completely present eyes are attached to men who look ready to hang on my every word. I don’t know how other girls feel around them, but I’m dizzy. Especially now that the floor is mine, their attention feels like a spotlight. And I’m pretty sure it’s making me sweat. I reach for my wine, saying, “I don’t know where to start. There’s not much to tell.”

“Where’d you go to school?”… “Why decorating?”… “Where are you from originally?” mix from Alec, Reed, and Jace, making me laugh softly.

I bring my glass to my lips for some courage, only to realize I’ve finished my second glass. Oops.

Cole taps a finger on the table, making my eyes jump to his.

“Boyfriend?”

I don’t know what it is about him that makes me feel obstinate and obedient at the same time. Maybe it’s the brusque way he speaks. It’s demanding. I like it, and I want to rebel.

Cole expects me to answer him first. I can tell because he’s slowly strumming his fingers impatiently on the table. Fuck, that’s hot.

But instead of giving him what he wants, I look at Alec.

“Berkeley. Double major in Business and Architectural Design.”

Then to Reed.

“Because I like making places feel like home for people. It’s rewarding.”

Next to Jace.

“Born in Portland, Oregon. Raised in Northern California. San Jose, specifically.”

And finally, Cole, who has the most amused look on his gorgeous face as I say, “Why do you want to know? It’s not as if you have a chance at dating me….You’re a client, after all.”

We sit staring at each other, and I swear there’s a crackle in the air. I can feel the heat behind Cole’s eyes as he licks his bottom lip. I spin the bottom of the wineglass around the table, staring back, unwilling to cave first in this little battle of wills.

Jace laughs.

“Oh shit, Cole. I think you’ve met your match.” I look over at Jace’s dimples that I like so much as he continues. “No one ever gets one over Mr. Buttoned Up over there.” He gives me a wry grin. “Careful. You might be in trouble now, Samantha.”

Reed takes my glass, adding, “Here, this’ll help ease the sting from the spanking you’re going to get.”

I know what’s said is meant to be tongue-in-cheek, but I can’t help the tiny shiver it invokes. A shiver that doesn’t go unnoticed by Cole. Whose jaw flexes before he adjusts in his seat.

I shake my head to answer to more wine, barely bringing my eyes to Reed, but he pours anyway.

“Come on. The night’s just getting fun. Let’s see what happens when you finish the bottle. It’s only fair. You’re way behind the rest of us.”

Wait a minute. Was that the third glass I finished before? Oh crap. I’d given myself a one-glass maximum. So it’s safe to say I threw away good judgment.

Three glasses are my red flag area, A.K.A. the part of the night when bad ideas start to resemble my best life. Like my ten-second fantasy about being spanked by Cole. Yep. It’s confirmed. I’m there—time to put myself to bed. 

“No…” I draw out slowly, standing. “I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”

Grumbles sound around the table, making me laugh. Jace even boos me, causing me to slip back into my drunk alter ego effortlessly.

“Oh, stop it,” I snark, pointing my finger at him, only for him to pretend to bite it. “See, this is why I’m going to bed. It’s time for you boys to let loose and do whatever it is you do.”

Jace pushes from the table, standing too like he’s been offended, before looking at Alec. “Boys? Can you believe the nerve of this woman?”

Alec chuckles. “I can, but I suppose we just need to remind her that we’re all grown men here.”

Jace answers on the heels of Alec, “We could brave the snow and throw her in the hot tub.”

My mouth pops open, enjoying every minute.

Am I flirting with a table of men? Yes.

Do they like it? Also, yes.

“Don’t you dare,” I bark sweetly before turning my attention to Alec. “I never took you for a bully, Alec.”

I say his name sharply for added effect, narrowing my eyes as I do.

He doesn’t answer right away. But there’s something on the tip of his tongue, and I want him to say it. Badly. So I raise my brows, tempting him to answer, but Reed pokes my waist, making me squirm and laugh again.

As I look down at him, everything grows quiet. The tip of Reed’s tongue traces back and forth over his pointy tooth. There’s something so arrogant and animalistic about it. Like I’m a snack, and he’s hungry.

God, how does he do this—his attention feels like it vacuum-seals the space around us.

If he were a vampire, this would be the moment that I’d be like Bella and break my neck to expose my throat. Fucking bite me for real.

“Hey, Samantha,” he says, hushed like it’s a secret. “You know if you stay up…we’ll show you exactly what grown men do to let loose… I think you’ll like it.”

This time I’m speechless. What Reed said feels sexy, but I can’t trust myself because I can feel how drunk I truly am now that I’ve stood up.

My sister always says, “Never sit and drink because you’ll fall down when you stand.” It’s the only good advice she’s ever given me. But despite knowing I should run to my room before I crawl there, I keep horny-flirting.

“Ummm… do you play cards?” I grin, thinking, Or maybe eat girls out in the middle of the room?

He shakes his head as I hear one of them say, “Try again, sweetheart.”

I swallow, wishing I was being led down a dirty path because then I’d say, take turns fucking girls over the counter. I got next. 

Instead, all that comes out is, “Smoke cigars?”

You could hear a pin drop as they sit there, smirking in my direction. Jesus, the number of dirty thoughts playing across my mind makes me a bonafide wine slut.

“Play Twister by the fireplace?” Naked?

Reed’s fingers ghost the inside of my wrist as he takes my hand. “Stay up and find out.” From my side, Jace breathes, “Yeah, you afraid you’ll lose Twister?”

With my hand still nestled in Reed’s, I look between them as a half laugh pulls from my throat. Because all I can fucking think about is us, nude, as someone calls out, “Left hand, yellow.”

God, just the thought of it makes me let out the tiniest hum. Until Cole growls. Fuck. Everything inside me melts, pooling in my damn underwear as my eyes shoot to his. Cole’s jaw ticks before he speaks.

“Stop teasing our girl. There’s always tomorrow. It’s time for Alec to take her to bed.”

I open my mouth, then shut it, frowning a little at the smirk that takes residence on the corner of his mouth. You were going to bed anyway, dummy. Why does it matter who takes you there?

I hadn’t realized Alec had gotten up until his palm presses against my lower back, drawing my eyes to meet his. I blink, staring up past his broad shoulders to those blue eyes looking down at me.

“You’re taking me to bed?” I say way too breathlessly.

Jesus, throw your pussy at him, why don’t you?

“Yes, Samantha, I am. The shower can be tricky. I’ll show you the room. Help you get settled. Unless you don’t want me to.”

I do that dumbass chuckle thing I do when I realize I’m on the completely wrong page. Because of course I am.

Three glasses of wine, and I’m all for an orgy. I’m such a lightweight. A disgrace. I’m sorry .008 percent Irish ancestry, I’ve let you down.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean…totally. Show me the room.” I smile. “And the shower. Yep.” Another dumb chuckle. “Lead the way, boss.”

Boss, boss, boss. They’re all your bosses. Don’t fuck them, idiot.

Reed releases my hand as Alec smiles behind his eyes, saying nothing as we walk toward our…

Oh. My. God—HIS bedroom.

Even after my inner pep talk, I still don’t know what he’s saying as we walk inside and into the bathroom because I’m mentally reliving all of dinner. But I keep nodding. Except all I’m thinking is that I need to get out of here by the crack of dawn.

I can’t be stuck here for days on end with all the flirting, smiling, and growling. It’s like one of those tests you have to pass to become a saint. I’m failing, without a doubt. Another day here, and I’m going straight to hell.

Maybe they have those tennis rackets for your feet here. I saw people do that on some documentary about Alaska once. It didn’t look too hard.

I’ll just snowshoe all the way back. It’s like, conservatively, a hundred and sixty miles. So I’ll get home by next week, but it’s fine. It’s fine.

Jesus. Christ.

“Samantha?”

“Huh?” I give my head a small shake. “Sorry, I’m so tired. Thank you for your hospitality and for, yeah…everything. I’m just going to crash.”

He smirks.

“Sweet dreams, gorgeous. If you need anything…” There’s that pause. My body is on fire, Alec. Get out of here before I combust. “I’m across the hall,” he finishes.

He’s walking toward the door as he glances over his shoulder.

“This might be unprofessional”—now we’re worried about this?—“but I enjoyed getting to know you tonight. All the guys did. You should let your hair down more often.”

I bite my lip before saying, “Thank you. It was fun.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums before turning and shutting the door behind him.

Dramatically and indelicately, I melt to the floor, letting out a very quiet laugh before I reach into my back pocket for my phone.

Me: You’re a twat. You fed my subconscious dirty thoughts, and now I’m stuck here, and everything they say to me sounds like they want to fuck me. Also, I had three glasses of wine.

Elle: Don’t blame the wine. It’s because you’re a secret freak. Just let the flag fly. I don’t know why you’re so bent out of shape over the possibility of fucking one of them.

Me: I don’t know either…and that’s because I’m drunk. No more wine.

Elle: Nuh-uh. Way more wine. Get all the way drunk. And pregnant.

Me: What is wrong with you?

Elle: Fine, don’t get pregnant. Just swallow all your babies.

Me: Ewwwww

I toss my phone to the bed, propping myself onto my elbows and looking toward the bathroom. I’m definitely going to need a cold shower.

“I really hope there’s a detachable showerhead.”