Blazing Hot Christmas by Beth Beaumont

Author:Beth Beaumont [Beaumont, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-24T16:00:00+00:00

I see her one minute, and she’s laughing with her friend and having a good time. I love the way her lips close around the fork when she takes a bite, and I can’t wait to see those lips around something else. I look up again, and she’s gone. I check the bathroom. Nope. I look in the kitchen, the coat room, everywhere, and there’s no sign of her. I go in the back to change, hoping that she’ll be around when I come out. No such luck, but her friend is at their table.

“Hey,” I say, approaching her and sitting down in Holly’s chair.

“Oh!” she seems startled. “Uh, hi.”

She has red hair and pale skin, and when she blushes, her whole face turns bright pink. I don’t know what I’ve done to embarrass her, but I’ve noticed that I have that effect on some women for some reason. I just don’t get it.

“You’re Holly’s friend, right?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t think I’m a stalker or something.

“Yeahhh…” she says, frowning at me. “How do you know Holly?”

“We…umm…I was playing Santa, and we talked a little bit,” I say, sounding awkward and dumb.

“Oh! You’re one of the fire fighters?” she says, as if that makes a difference somehow.

“Yep,” I nod, not knowing what else to say.

“Gotcha. Well, Holly wasn’t feeling great. She left a few minutes ago,” the friend shrugs.

“By herself?” my eyebrows raise.

Who lets a sick friend go home by themselves?

“Yeah, I offered to drive her, but she insisted that I stay. She’s stubborn when her mind is made up, so I didn’t argue,” she gives me a lopsided smile.

“Think she’ll be okay?” I ask.

My inclination is to get her address and go check on her, but I don’t want to be intrusive.

“Yeah, I think so. She may have just had too much wine or something. She was pretty flushed and warm,” the friend says, and I blush.

I know why Holly was warm and flushed, and just thinking about it sent a tingle straight to my cock. I intentionally think about other things so that my reaction won’t be obvious to everyone at the event.

“Poor thing,” I murmur. “Well, thanks. Nice talking to you,” I say, turning to leave.

“You too,” she says, staring at me, an invitation in her eyes.

I ignore it and head for my truck.

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