Chapter 4 Donovan
DONOVAN
Laughter and squeals of excitement filled the living room as the children released me to play with their new toys. They bounced around impatiently as their parents helped them open the packaging, which seemed much more difficult than it needed to be.
“You did great!” Emily proclaimed from beside me, leaning forward to speak into my ear.
“You made their night.” Her sweet vanilla scent enveloped me as her breath tickled my ear.
My cock jerked to life, and my hands fisted atop my thighs.
I wanted to reach out and pull her onto my lap and ask her what she wanted for Christmas before making her beg for my…
I cleared my throat, not allowing myself to revel in that fantasy.
“Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without my good little helper.
” The praise came out much more salacious than I intended, and her eyes flared.
Shit. I was treading in dangerous territory.
I needed to get away from her before I did something stupid.
Standing abruptly, the legs of my chair scraped against the floor, but nobody seemed to notice. The kids kept everyone distracted.
“I need a drink,” I muttered, glancing up to see Emily scowling at her phone, the color slowly draining from her face. Gone was the joyful smile and warmth that filled her eyes as she’d watched the kids open presents a moment ago.
Something like anger flashed across her features as she stuffed the device back into her pocket.
“Apparently, I do too.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode toward the kitchen.
I followed, wondering what had upset her.
My protective instincts flared to life, and I was ready to pummel someone by the time she pulled the bottle of cinnamon whiskey from the cabinet.
She twisted off the lid, poured a little into a plastic cup, and took a large gulp.
She screwed up her face and shuddered before slamming it down on the counter and wiping the back of her hand over her mouth.
“Want one?” she asked. I nodded, unsure if I should partake while in disguise, but unwilling to let her drink alone.
“Everything okay?” I asked as she poured a shot for each of us, and she snorted.
“Just peachy,” she replied cynically as she downed her drink in one gulp. I didn’t believe her, but I wouldn’t push. I tipped back my cup, eyeing her over the rim.
She added another shot’s worth to our cups before replacing the lid and returning the bottle to the cabinet. “Better not drink it all, or Mom won’t be able to make her famous hot toddies for everyone.”
She leaned against the counter and took a small sip, wincing as the alcohol went down.
My eyes fell to her throat as she swallowed, imagining what it would feel like to have her swallowing me down instead.
I suppressed a groan and shifted on my feet, hoping my costume would hide my thickening arousal.
“Wanna talk about it?”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Just another fuckboy pretending to be a man.” Anger I had no business feeling flared to life inside me. The thought of someone hurting her made me murderous.
“What happened?” I did my best to keep my voice steady, but even I could hear the menace in my tone.
She waved me off. “It doesn’t matter. We weren’t serious, and I’m more annoyed than hurt.” A small wave of relief washed over me. Whatever it was, she would get over it.
Maybe by getting under me.