Page 8 of Baby, It’s Hot Inside

My mind is playing the words on repeat like it’s an old record player stuck on a scratch.

I follow him to his truck, and then suddenly he’s standing really close to me. His six-foot frame towers over me, as I look up into his face. That infernal grin of his. I really wanted to dislike him, but I just can’t. He’s been so great today. Sweet and supportive. He even apologized for some of his high school antics. We both did, I guess. I can’t say that I didn’t play some part in our rift.

“You owe me a kiss,” he said. His eyes dropped to my mouth.

“How do you figure?”

“Twice now you’ve gotten out of it. Last night under the mistletoe.” He ticked off one finger. “Then our sophomore year, you snuck off before our seven minutes in heaven.” He ticked off a second finger.

“First of all, you did kiss me last night. Just not on my lips. As for that stupid kissing game, I didn’t even want to play. And you had a girlfriend.”

“We weren’t together for more than half of that year,” he reminds me. “So you can’t use her as an excuse.”

I just look at him until he raises his brows making it clear he’s still waiting on my answer. “I ran off because I didn’t want my first kiss to be part of some dare.”

He tips my chin up with a nudge of a finger. “That means...”

“Yeah, I was sixteen and never been kissed. I didn’t think you needed more fodder to tease me.”

“I would have loved to have been your first kiss.”

His thumb swipes along my bottom lip, and every erogenous zone in my body goes on high alert. I swear I can almost hear alarms going off.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Ginger.”

And that’s all the warning I get before his lips brush against mine. Little nips at the corners of my mouth. He cradles my face and I melt a little.

HOLY SHIT BROCK DANIELS IS KISSING ME!

Yes, that needed to be yelled. His fingers dive into my curls, and he deepens the kiss. There’s a sexy slide of his tongue across the seam of my mouth. I don’t need any more encouragement to open my mouth. And then our tongues are together. He tilts my head and I kiss him back with ferocity. I would have loved for him to have been my first kiss too. But somehow this seems perfect.

We are full on making out while he presses me against his truck. My toes curl inside my slip-on sneakers, and I arch against him, rubbing my hard nipples against his chest. He growls into my mouth, lifts me off my feet, and I wrap my legs around his waist. Then I feel it, that hard-as-a-pipe erection against my stomach. No dysfunction here, thank you very much. I want to grind against him, but his kiss is melting my brain. So hot.

He ends the kiss and presses his forehead to mine. “Fuck, Ginger.” His voice is all growly and deep with lust and I’m pretty sure my panties have melted.

“As much as I want to fuck you right here...one, we’re in the hospital parking lot and two, we told your mom we’d do something for her.”

Voice of reason. I fucking hate the voice of reason. I try to lower my legs from his body, but he grips my thighs and bends his head to meet my gaze.

“This is not over. Do you understand me? We’re not done here.”

I swallow and nod, but my mouth seems to have forgotten how to make words. Thankfully my brain is working enough for me to agree with him that we’re not done. He’s in town for Christmas and I think having a holiday fling with him would be the very best present I could give myself.

chapter four

Brock

I dropped her off at her parents’ house and we both went to our respective places to change for the beach activities. We hadn’t talked much on that drive and I hadn’t touched her. I was too damn tempted to pull her into my lap and finish what we’d started.

I’m still hard from that kiss. Goddamn she felt good in my arms, her tongue on mine, the heat from her pussy pressed against my cock. Even through our clothes, I had been able feel her.

I’d gone back to my new condo to change my clothes, and thought of two things. One: fucking Ginger until neither one of us can walk. And two: our conversation at the hospital. I had ignored her the rest of that dance. I’d been so caught up in kissing Chelsea that I hadn’t been able to think beyond my hormones. But it hadn’t been a conscious decision to leave Ginger behind. I should have fought harder for our friendship. And now I found myself wanting a hell of a lot more than friendship with her.

Friendship first though.

* * *

Every once in a while, on those super rare occasions, it has gotten cold enough here in Sand Dollar to snow on the beach. That’s happened maybe twice in my twenty-four years, and both of those times were after December. So we can’t build snowmen; no, here we build sandmen.