‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds (A Holiday romance Book 1)
‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds: Chapter 10

Oh. My. God.

No way I handed him that list. The one that was never supposed to see the light of day. Most certainly not in the hands of the sexiest man alive, whom I’ve been crushing on for months. Most absolutely fucking not accidentally.

How can I be so stupid? Check first. Always double-check.

I’m going to die.

Strike that. I want to die.

Why isn’t a deadly bolt of lightning striking me?

“Quite an impressive list,” Kingston murmurs, smirking deviously as he stares at the piece of paper. He looks like a man who found a hidden treasure. “I can see you’ve put a lot of thought into it.”

That kicks me into action and I cross the room to him, intent on snatching the paper back. He’s faster and raises it out of reach, while wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me captive.

His abs contract and tighten as my fingertips graze them while I attempt to climb up his body and get closer to his hand, which is lifted in the air.

“Give it back,” I demand. “It’s… it’s not mine.”

“Naughty little liar,” he tsks.

Ugh. Why do these things keep happening to me? And why does it always happen around him? Can I not have a day where I’m not embarrassing myself in front of him?

Fuck it. I have no choice but to own it.

I’m a twenty-first century woman, I shouldn’t be embarrassed by my desires.

I brazenly lift my chin, which comes close to faltering when he shamelessly speaks.

“I can’t decide which one is my favorite. Sex in front of the fireplace or tying you spread-eagled to the bed and fucking you all night long.”

“Stop reading!” As if once wasn’t enough.

“With you, each one is meant to drive a man crazy and thank his lucky stars.”

I hide my blush by attempting to step away from his furnace-like embrace. His spicy and woodsy scent intoxicates my senses until I’m driven by lascivious thoughts and lust.

Kingston is having none of it and instead picks me up with one arm like I weigh nothing, which is probably true.

“What are you doing?” I kick my legs and only hit air. “Put me down.”

He carries me to the dining table in the corner and sets me on top of it. Caging me in with his thick arms on both sides, he shamelessly questions, “Did you come here hoping to explore your fantasies?”

I open my mouth to refute.

He cuts me off with a command. “The truth.”

“Yes,” I whisper, becoming a willing prey of his dominant edge. “Some of them.”

“Are you embarrassed that I mistakenly saw it or that I’ll judge you for your darkest cravings?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The simple touch sets me ablaze. “I would understand the first, but the latter will make me mad because you shouldn’t be ashamed of your desires. We all have them, Twinkle.”

“Tell me yours.”

“It’s making yours come true,” he roughly growls. “In every dirty, depraved, messy way imaginable.”

I’m both scared and aroused at the prospect of fulfilling my filthy dreams with the star of my fantasies.

But it would be bad.

Oh-so bad.

Because I’d become too attached, with feelings developing deeper than a silly crush. We’ve already skipped too many stages of normal dating.

Where will that leave me afterward? Sitting on a train alone with a broken heart back to India. The possibility pours cold water over my overly-stimulated body.

“Cocky of you to assume I’m going to ask you, Kingston,” I tease, my inner boldness returning. Resting my hands beside his, I lean back. “I never meant for you to see that list. It was an honest mistake.”

I expect him to straighten and give me space.

He does the opposite.

Cupping my chin, he asks me to confess the biggest desire of all. “Who were you thinking of when you wrote your naughty little list?”

“No one,” I stammer, licking my lips.

“Who, Twinkle?”

My eyes close as I confess on an exhale, “You.”

He rewards me with a press of his lips against mine. My gaze snaps open when I’m suddenly bereft. Kingston has taken a step back and is standing tall with his hands inside his jeans pockets. I didn’t notice it before, but his hair is more mussed than earlier, probably from when I pulled at it in the throes of passion.

It’s so easy to forget decency around him.

“We’re going to be late. You should freshen up and get dressed,” he casually orders, like we weren’t just talking about him fucking me a second ago.

“That’s it?” I hate the disappointment in my voice.

He’s pleased, roaming his heated gaze up and down my trembling body. “Since it’s going to be a long conversation to make you say yes to letting me fulfill your kinky list, we’ll talk later, once we’re back.”

“My answer isn’t going to change.”

“What have I told you about lying?”

“It’s not a lie if it’s the truth.”

“The truth is you want me as much as I want you. You’ve been thinking about me since our date, like I have. Deep down, you’re desperate and aching for me to finish off what we started. To rip off your clothes, spread you naked, and fill you with my cock until you forget your own name. But you’re holding yourself back and it’s not because of your best friend either. So, stay in denial all you want, darling, but I’ll get you to admit you crave me.”

He splays me open with his words to my bone marrow.

However, the defiant streak inside me flares to life. The streak that secretly wants to push and test his limits. To drive him mad.

What does he look like when his tight-knit control snaps?

If I’m honest with myself, I already know I’ll say yes to him.

But not so easily.

“I can always replace someone else to scratch my itch, Kingston,” I brazenly taunt. “To get you out of my system. That was always the plan, anyway.”

His eyes narrow into slits, lips lifting in the corner in a threatening—almost savage—way as he darkly says, “If you’re thinking I’ll let another man touch you or watch you flirt with anyone who isn’t me, you’re deeply mistaken, stubborn girl.”

I cock my hip and demand, “Is that a threat?”

“Of course not. Just making sure there isn’t any confusion.” Invading my personal space once more, he grabs my throat and bends to possessively whisper against my lips, “While you’re in my city, under my roof, your body is mine, your filthy soul is mine… You. Are. Mine.”