How the Hitman Stole Christmas - Sam Mariano Page 0,60
the plush velvet now that my coat is off. “A man that orders for me. I like that.”
“Of course you do,” he says in a way that makes it clear he’s teasing me.
I narrow my eyes at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He shakes his head and looks away with a little smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t answer.
The waitress brings back our cocktails after a few minutes. Jasper’s is amber-colored, I think he ordered an old-fashioned, but I can’t remember. Mine is fruity and pink and much more fun. It’s also delicious, which leads to me unintentionally drinking it so quickly, I need another drink right away.
Jasper orders me one, then another, and another. The waitress finally brings over our food and the scent of the steak bites makes my mouth water.
Turns out, they’re delicious. So is the charcuterie board. Jasper and I share both. I’m so caught up enjoying all the flavors, I hardly notice when he signals the waitress to let her know I need another drink.
I don’t realize how drunk I am until I have to walk to the bathroom.
As I make my way clumsily back to the table, I start thinking about how sexy my handsome captor is. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the atmosphere, but when I get back to the booth, I don’t scoot into my side—I scoot into his.
Surprised, Jasper scoots back to make a little more room for me, but I don’t want room. I curl my legs up on the seat behind me, loop an arm around his neck, and pull him in for a kiss.
He’s even more surprised, but he recovers nicely, placing a hand on my waist and tugging me close as he kisses me back.
I can’t seem to control myself and we are in a public place, so right around the time I let my hand drift between his legs, Jasper’s hand closes around my wrist to stop me.
“We better get the check,” he says with some effort.
I smile and lean my head on his shoulder. “What an excellent idea.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jasper
When Autumn came at me with such greedy lips and wandering hands in the booth at the bar, I envisioned barely making it inside the house because we couldn’t take our hands off each other. I imagined her wrapped around me, kissing me, making it hard to even get down the stairs to our room.
I did not imagine her drunkenly searching kitchen cabinets for a mixing bowl.
“I can’t find it,” she laments, closing a cabinet she has already searched three times and leaning back against the counter.
I won’t lie, it’s amusing as hell. I admire her commitment to this cause, but she’s really going to have to call it.
“You’re too drunk to make cookies,” I inform her.
Thrusting one hand into the air, she dissents. “You’re only too drunk if you… believe you are?” She flashes me a brilliant smile. “I don’t remember what I was going to say.”
Chuckling, I push off the center island and walk over to her. “Why don’t you just wait until tomorrow?”
“But Uncle Arlo’s cookies,” she laments, looking back at all the ingredients spread out on the counter.
“It’s late. Uncle Arlo is sleeping.”
“I know. I wanted them to be there waiting for him when he wakes up.”
She’s too thoughtful, and sorta sad, and so fucking adorable.
I can’t stand to see her sad, even in a fleeting drunk-girl way. I can’t stay away from her, either, so I drift closer and tell her, “He’ll appreciate the cookies just as much if you make them tomorrow.”
She sighs heavily. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” I tease, reaching for her hips so I can drag her closer to me.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she says lightly.
I lean in and kiss the side of her neck. “It is right now. Baking can wait. Bed can’t.”
“Mmm. You’re a bad influence,” she says, fondness glinting in her eyes as she winds her arms around my neck and looks up at me.
“The worst,” I agree, locking an arm around her waist and pulling her close.
“I like it,” she says playfully. “Does that mean I’m on the naughty list this year?”
“I’m on it permanently and I still got you.” I keep one arm locked around her waist, but the other drops and I run my hand over her ass. “The naughty list isn’t so bad.”
She grins and tilts her neck as I dive in, leaving a trail of hungry kisses up and down that sensitive column. I