4. Michael
MICHAEL
“ I ’d like that.” The feminine voice spears into my chest, and my eyes snap up.
Holy holiday heaven.
Standing before me is a lush-as-fuck angel with evergreen eyes, berry-red lips, and a body I’d write to Santa for.
Her hand is retracting as though she’d given up reaching for me. Before I can consider the consequences, I dart my own hand out, clasping her palm in mine. And the second we touch, a volt of awareness rockets down my spine.
Startled by my sudden movement, she lets out a small gasp, and I swear I feel her inhale deep in my balls.
“What’s your name?” I growl, tightening my grip.
Joey clears his throat next to me. I’m sure he already said her name, but I wasn’t listening. That last contestant was trying to openly flirt, and it annoyed the shit out of me. So I came over here with my head down and my inner voice grumbling, and I regret every second I’ve wasted not looking at this wonderful woman. But I don’t want to hear Joey tell me her name. I want to hear it from her mesmerizing lips.
I flex my fingers and her mouth pops open.
“I’m Alice.”
Her whispered voice is all the confirmation I need. This woman is mine, and I’m gonna find a way to keep her.