Holly's Mistletoe Mafia: F*** Under The Mistletoe Book 5 by Alys Fraser

Author:Alys Fraser [Fraser, Alys]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 5

Nico

* * *

When Davide told me I’d be blown away by the sight of Holly in the dress she picked out for tonight, I hadn’t expected to actually lose the ability to speak. As she floats downstairs toward me at seven p.m. on the dot, looking like a goddess, I find myself unable to form thoughts, never mind words.

Holly is an absolute vision. The blood red gown is stunning, but it’s merely an enhancement for the beauty she possesses naturally. Her limbs are long and lean and her figure is curved in all the right places. Her hair tumbles down over her shoulders in soft, chocolate brown waves and she’s wearing the barest amount of makeup.

“Will I do?” She twirls around to give me a glimpse of the back of the dress. Well, I say the back of the dress, but there’s barely any fabric there. The gown dips low, revealing pale, creamy skin from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine.

“Will you do?” I’m pretty sure from the cocky grin on her face she knows exactly how amazing she looks. “You are fucking gorgeous, Holly.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” She takes a moment to very slowly, very deliberately, drag her gaze up and down the entire length of my body. I’m wearing a black suit, white shirt and black tie tonight. After giving it some consideration, Holly smiles. “You scrub up nicely, too.”

I’m no stranger to compliments. Women try to flatter their way into my bed or my wallet all the time. Yet, when Holly tells me I look good, I can’t help feeling incredibly pleased with myself. This woman could turn me into a complete sap if I let her.

“We should go.” If we don’t leave soon, I’m going to bend her over the nearest table and fuck her brains out. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Where are we going anyway?” she asks, as she lays her hand on the arm I offer.

I lead her out through the front door. “The ballet.”

Holly stops in her tracks. “The ballet? Really?”

“Yeah, it’s a tradition of mine. I go see The Nutcracker every year on Christmas Eve.”

It’s something my mom started when my sisters and I were kids. We’d go to the ballet and then on to church for Midnight Mass. Since we lost my dad, she doesn’t leave the house much and I’ve not been able to persuade her to join me at the theater. My sisters stopped going years ago, but I’ve stuck with it.

“Wow. I’ve never been.”

I smile. “Then you are in for a treat.”

Paulie, who’s driving us tonight, opens the back door of the car. I wait until Holly’s settled and then go to get in the other side.

“Seatbelt,” I prompt her.

“Thanks, dad,” she murmurs, but she fastens it anyway.

“So, I heard you had a nice time with Davide,” I say as we pull away from the house.

Holly’s cheeks redden. “He told you about that?”

“He did. We share everything, remember?”

A little huffing sound escapes her.

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