Cupid’s Naughty Elf

5. Piper

5

PIPER

REINDEER KISSES

Two Years Ago

“ D on’t you look ravishing, sweetheart,” Cain Byrnes says in greeting, leaning forward to kiss my cheek while his older brother glares at Miriam. My cousin doesn’t address him, though, tossing her jacket at the older Byrnes brother before giving him her back and addressing Cain.

He didn’t like that. I’m almost positive he wants to strangle her.

Moreover, she’s dressed to kill this year.

Miriam turned herself into a naughty present with bright red panties and a matching bra set, both in a shimmering fabric that seemed to catch every light inside the room. Then, there’s the golden bow wrapped around her chest, and it’s doing its job of catching the attention of every man here. Her assets are on display, but what seems to hold Jonah captive—angers him—are the tiny bells delicately placed on either side of her hips.

They dangle from a golden chain and will snap off at the gentlest of tugs, something Jonah can tell. His hands clench. His nostrils flare. And I’m amused by the way he looks both pained and excited about the way her bottoms sit low on her hips.

They really need to bang already.

Turning my attention back to Cain, I take his offered hand. “Thank you.” I’m given a slow twirl; I can feel the heat of eyes on me, but I don’t take his flirting for anything more than that. It’s who he is. Cain’s fun, full of compliments, and protective of those he cares about.

He whistles after releasing my hand and stepping back—I blush. “Someone’s going to flip his shit when he sees you.”

“Stop it,” I giggled, slapping his arm playfully. “But who?”

“You’ll see.”

“That’s no fun.” When he shakes his head, doubling down on not spilling, I cock my hip to the side and tilt my head. Flutter my lashes at him. “Can you tell what I am?”

“Absolutely. You’re the sexiest…” he coughs, releasing my hand and taking a step back. “Sorry. I mean, you’re the cutest?—”

The other two can’t hold back their amusement and chuckle, while a strong hand warms the bare skin of my back. His scent hits me like a freight train, and I inhale deep, releasing a low, pleased hum as it sweeps across my senses like the touch of a long-lost lover.

Worn leather and citrus, with an undertone of whatever drink is in his glass.

It’s powerful and overwhelming yet comforting in a way that shouldn’t make sense, but it does. This man has become my safe place without knowing. My person.

Liam Rutherford is also the man my mother once described when trying to define love.

“All it takes is one moment, Piper. One look and the world around you brightens in ways that feel surreal, and yet grounds you.” Mom plays with my hair after removing the hair tie, my loose curls spread out over her lap. Like me, she’s a natural redhead, but where mine has some brown undertones, she has blonde. Our eyes, lips, and stature are nearly identical, though.

I’m her mini, while my father donated his stubbornness and sense of humor to my genetic makeup.

“All I know is the day I get married…” I trail off, closing my eyes for a second as I envision my future husband. Take note of everything future me wants him to be. “He needs to be tall, dark, and handsome, with eyes that soften every time he looks at me. Cocky grin, too. Maybe a tattoo or two.”

“That’s oddly specific. Does he have a name?”

“Not yet. Haven’t met him.”

“Uh-huh…” My response to that is a very mature rolling of the eyes, and Mom pinches me. “Answer me, brat. Do you have a crush or a boyfriend?”

“Ouch, lady!” It doesn’t hurt, and she sees right through my mock-injured act, holding her fingers up in warning of possible further retaliation. “There’s nothing to spill, I swear. I’m just telling you what I want.”

“Again, your vision is too specific.”

“And you did say not to settle.”

“Touché.” Settling back into playing with my hair, Mom falls into a silent rhythm. Undoing the small knots from having my hair up all day and in between, she’s pursing her lips in thought. Something is weighing heavily on her mind, but I beat her to it.

“If I had a boyfriend, I’d tell you. Promise.” Holding my pinky up, I wait until she twines one of her with mine and nods. “Besides, all I’m pointing out is that I want my future husband to look at me like Dad looks at you.”

Mom winks down at me with a smile. At ease now. “He better, or I’ll shoot him.”

“Dad might fight you for the privilege,” I say, a giggle slipping through. “You know, father of the future bride and all that jazz.”

“I’m a better shot and he knows it.” She shrugs, but then turns serious. “Promise me you’ll never settle, Pip. That you’ll fight for your happiness.”

“I will. I want it all or nothing.”

“That’s my girl.”

“…you okay, Piper?” The sound of Liam’s voice pulls me from the memory, but the sting—the instant grief—hits me in my chest. More so, as his warm green eyes meet my hazel ones, and I hear Mom’s words in my head again.

All it takes is one moment, Piper. One look and the world around you brightens in ways that feel surreal, and yet grounds you.

Moreover, this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way.

Liam Rutherford is my lobster, and of that, I have no doubt.

He’s facing me now, shielding me from the others while his furrowed brows make me want to reach up and smooth the area with my thumb. To nuzzle his neck and place a small kiss over his Adam’s Apple, but I don’t. Instead, I smile and nod before peaking over his side at Miri, who’s looking at me with concern.

Needing to shift the conversation back to the party, I grin up at the group. Meet all their eyes with a haughty look. “So, who’s going to get me my first drink tonight? I’m ready to celebrate.”

“I will.”

“She’s underage,” Liam and Cain speak in unison as a waiter swings by with a tray of drinks. Immediately, I snatch one while they go back and forth on twenty being old enough. About them all getting drunk at the age of seventeen as a rite of passage for the intimate group of friends.

My cousin rolls her eyes.

Jonah watches her with hunger.

Cain is riling Liam up by defending my right to get lit on my twentieth turn around the sun.

And Liam…

My Liam is busy arguing my untouched alcoholic virtue, missing my first sip of the night. Silly man forgets where I grew up and that the rules in Hollywood are outside the norm for others. I was allowed a one-drink maximum at sixteen and then bumped to two six months before my parent’s death.

“Good shit?” Miri asks, walking over seconds after I take a sip. She wraps an arm around my shoulders, biting back a smile when Jonah tilts his head in our direction.

He says something we can’t hear, but Liam’s hissed response is clear:

“She’s not yours to corrupt.”

“That’s an interesting take he has, little cousin.”

Ignoring the sudden racing of my heart and the rush of wetness coating my labia, I drink a little more. “It’s delicious. You should grab one.”

“We’re playing the denial game tonight?”

“Nope. Just changing the game a bit.”

“Tempt or chase?”

“More like an I dare you. ” Using the little black straw in my glass, I give the drink a quick twirl before finishing it off. It’s both saccharine and tart on my tongue; the clear use of vodka and rosemary with some kind of sweet citrus makes me hum low in appreciation. There are also cranberries inside as part of the garnish, but what I’m truly interested in is the mistletoe branch sticking straight up.

I have plans for that little trimming.

“Too late, Rutherford. She’s already finished her first,” Miriam calls out. Immediately, Liam’s head snaps in my direction, and his eyes narrow, this time at me. They also fully take in the one piece I’m wearing from the front.

I’m you’re slutty reindeer.

The low cut and sheer in places material of my onesies make me feel both nervous and daring. It’s a long-sleeved leotard with a plunging neckline, front and back, and has three rows of bells that are attached from where my nipples sit covered by two beige hearts in a thicker fabric. The chain rattles as a move, cocking my hip to the side and he follows the length of metal down to my hips.

These are my reins. His to play with.

“Watch it, Cain.” Whatever the younger of the Byrnes brothers said from beside Liam, I don’t know, but he’s annoyed. Not that it stops my cousin from egging him on. Every member of this friend group finds amusement in doing so.

The Byrnes brothers and my cousin. Isla and her twin, Ivy. Even Hugh and Hugo, best friends who are always late and flirt/fuck anything that walks, give him a hard time over his protectiveness.

“Calm down. She’s having fun,” Miri mock-chides, flagging down another waiter making the rounds. His tray has my earlier drink and what looks like Coquito, a Puerto Rican creamy rum-spiked cocktail. A friend from school had me try some last year, and I loved it.

“It seems she is.” That’s all he says, but there’s something dark in his tone. A Warning. Gorgeous in his dark suit with a matching shirt sans tie, Liam steps between us forcing me back a few steps. Then a few more. I match his pace until there’s enough space between me and the group, which I find nerve-wracking yet cute.

Nerve-wracking because being alone with him or this close, makes my heart race and thigh clench, something this outfit can’t hide. My reactions to him are on full display. And cute, because there’s a small hint of jealousy in his actions, and I can’t help but swoon.

Maybe he does like me.

“No more drinks, darling.

“She is right here,” we speak in unison, my tone breathy. A little bit of a whimper.

“You are…” Liam trails off, his eyes perusing me from head to toe, spending a little more time than what’s publicly acceptable on my chest. The two hearts there draw him in; they’re just big enough to cover my nipples and a little cleavage, but the underside and side are clear to see through the thin fabric. His eyes especially linger on the left side where a small tattoo is barely visible below my breast.

It’s impossible to make out what it is in this warm light, but if he knew…

P. C. V. L. R.

Every day, each moment shared, leaves me breathless and wanting more.

A more he’s refusing to give. For over a year, I’ve flirted and hinted, and nothing…

That stops me cold, and everything inside me shifts. I find myself needing space, and without thinking, I blurt out, “I’ll be back.”

I’m walking past him before he can ask me what’s wrong or are you okay , grabbing another drink on my way to the balcony on the other side of the room. A few people call out my name and say hello, others whistle or wave, and while I’m polite, I keep moving.

A feeling of being alone envelopes me then as I sip my new drink, and I don’t know how to fight it back. Maybe it’s the sudden realization that I’ve built castles in my head when it comes to Liam Rutherford. Or maybe it’s because I’ve tried to honor my mother by putting all my faith in a man who’s never given me more than appreciative looks.

I’m not vain, but I understand I’m a beautiful woman. Comfortable in my skin, I’m used to being admired, but somehow, I’ve confused his glances for meaning more than they are.

It’s my fault. I’m confused.

Did I really make this all up in my head?

Suddenly, the furry tail on my costume is tugged, and I tumble, stopped from falling by the solid chest pressing against my back. By a strong arm wrapping around my waist seconds before I recognize the scent and the electricity his mere touch ignited within me. Only him.

“Don’t ever walk away from me.” Liam’s moving us forward and the balcony’s threshold, not stopping until my front is pressed against the railing. There isn’t an inch of space between his body and mine, and the outline of his hardness is unmistakable. Thick. Huge. Yet before I can give an experimental roll of my hips, I’m turned around and facing him.

“W-what the…?”

His face lowers to mine, our lips inches apart. “You don’t walk away from me, Piper. Do you understand?” I’m too shocked to respond, but do manage a nod. “Good girl.”

Liam takes the cocktail I’d forgotten from my hand, and after drinking what’s left, he holds the glass above my head. I’m confused for a second, almost asking him if he’s okay when his lips touch mine.

For a few seconds I’m frozen, don’t so much as breathe, but he coaxes me with gentle nips and the slow glide of his tongue across my bottom lip. The kiss is reverent with a touch of scorching hunger, but he doesn’t take more than the innocent kiss.

Memorizing my lips. My taste.

“More, Liam.” The plea leaves me on a whimper, my hands gripping his suit jacket, and right when I think he’ll give in—Liam steps away.

I’m left breathless, leaning against the railing for support while he gives me a satisfied grin.

I want to punch him and then kiss it better.

“… love the tail, by the way.” That snaps me out of my thoughts, but before I can demand he claim my mouth again, he carries on. “I’ll be keeping my eyes on it for the rest of the night.”

“Liam, what?—”

“Stay close and behave, sugar plum.”

“Yes sir,” I whisper because he’s already walking away, leaving me alone while the party inside gets louder. From the voices carrying through the semi-closed door, the last guests have arrived and it’s created a commotion.

I catch words here and there:

Costumes.

Best in show.

Those two are in trouble.

This costume tradition began with the very first friendsmas party. Back then, it was exclusively between four families, a tight-knit group of heirs that grew up together, but over the years, it’s expanded. Siblings, cousins, and business partners who understand the meaning of discrepancy.

The party is exclusive and has one golden rule: you see, hear, and speak nothing about it.

It’s a debauched night of friends hooking up, and drinking, and my plans included being hungover the next day. Now, though, I’ll be hungover with the taste of him hopefully lingering on my lips.

Because Liam Rutherford kissed me.

Chaste and sweetly underneath a mistletoe garnish inside of an empty drink glass.

It’s destroyed me.

His scent. His heat.His taste.

Happy Birthday to me.