‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds (A Holiday romance Book 1)
‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds: Chapter 4

“Pull yourself together, Twinkle,” I say to my reflection in the bathroom mirror above the marble sink. Slapping my forehead, I remind myself, “Not Twinkle, Tina.”

Keenly aware I needed to get my bearings together, I had excused myself to the restroom before we could sit at our table. Which, unfortunately, had the perfect aesthetic for a simple and cozy date.

He’s not here for you. It’s with Tina that he feels a connection.

I’m going to go out there and accomplish what I promised my best friend. To send the guy running for the hills, far away from our lives.

By any psycho means necessary.

Except it ain’t happening unless I stop drooling like a schoolgirl over every mundane thing he does.

Most importantly, no getting distracted by his smirking lips, mischievous eyes, and smooth tongue. And absolutely no touching his body made for sin or daydreaming what he looks like stripped naked. Certainly not imagining him doing all sorts of dirty, nasty, and twisted deeds between the sheets.

“Stop it.” I shake my head while fanning my hot cheeks. “You’re here for one reason and one reason only: to get him off Tina’s back.”

Checking my hair and makeup in the mirror once more, I walk out with my chin held high.

Time to let the inner bitch out.

I ignore the shiver that runs across my spine as our eyes connect as soon as I enter the room. His hot gaze dips to my upper thighs, where the short skirt of my dress sways with every step. He doesn’t even hide that he’s checking me out.

However, I don’t let my mind drift to naughty thoughts and keep my expression schooled.

Unbothered, his lips quirk on one side in a sly smirk.

I can’t seem to ruffle his feathers.

He stands when I reach the table and like a true gentleman, slides my chair out and helps me sit. If I had a penny for how many times I’ve cursed my bad luck in the last half hour, I’d be rich as hell.

I suck in a sharp breath when his fingers ghost over my neck. Rounding the table to his side, he settles in his spot, his muscles flexing and shifting gracefully.

Before either of us can say a word, the waiter materializes out of thin air and professionally asks, “Would you both like to order?”

“Yes,” I answer before picking up my menu. Julian does the same after I purposely ignore him without waiting to see if he is ready or not. Skimming the contents, I close it as I place my order. “I’d like the sushi, please.”

“Make that two, thanks.”

With a nod, the waiter skitters away through the bustling room and heads toward the kitchen in the back. My heart does a cartwheel inside my chest when it’s just us secluded in the corner. The palpable sexual tension floating between us could be cut with a knife.

He silently and unnervingly watches me, secretly enjoying making me squirm and my brain scramble with sinful thoughts.

Focus, Twinkle. Focus.

“Your biodata didn’t say you had tattoos,” I say the first thing that pops into my head. Knowing Tina’s family, they wouldn’t approve of them. That’s why I’m surprised he got past her mother, who must have seen pictures other than the useless passport-sized one.

“I like to leave a little to the imagination,” he teases, before adding smoothly, “besides a single page can hardly encompass everything about a person. A little mystery never hurt anybody.”

Oh! If he only knew the mystery I’m hiding.

“That is a lot,” I reply haughtily. “Are there more?”

Shit. That totally sounded flirtatious.

Just great.

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table and rubbing at his chiseled jawline with one hand. “What do you think?”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“I’m more curious about where they end.”

He chuckles. Low and husky. “If you ask nicely, I might show you.”

Retreat. Retreat. Retreat.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“A spectacular way to die, isn’t it?”

Indeed, it will be. “If only I had a death wish.”

“The offer still stands.”

He thinks you’re Tina.

But Tina would never be this flirtatious. It’s all me.

Still, reminding myself I’m Tina has the desired effect. Taking a sip from the glass of water, which was already sitting there when I got back, I reply, “It won’t go over well with my family.”

“What about you?” he asks instead. “Do they offend you?”

This would be the perfect excuse to let him down. Yet, a completely different response slips from my mouth. “No. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone who has as many tattoos as you before.”

“I’m honored to be your first.” His tone is dripping with sexual innuendos that my treacherous body doesn’t miss. “What other firsts have I stolen from you until now?” he arrogantly asks, cocky that there are more. Damn if it isn’t true.

Instant attraction. Potent lust at first sight. Pussy wet with a single glance.

Take your pick.

“Do you never stop flirting?”

“I’m on a date with a beautiful and irresistible woman, how can I not?” he huskily says, charm dripping like honey from his mouth. “Plus, I’m supposed to impress and win you over.”

“Not every woman is looking for a husband who can flirt with every woman on the planet.” I deliver the statement with as much disdain as I can muster, while my insides are a bundle of nerves, fearing he can see through my act. “I certainly am not.”

“Bold of you to assume I treat every woman similarly.”

“You said so yourself; that’s what you do on dates.”

“No.” His tone is deep and commanding. “I said that’s what happens on a date. The two people meeting flirt and joke while getting to know one another. And again, bold of you to assume I go out on dates regularly. Maybe this is my first.”

“Yeah, right.” My voice is sarcastic while I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes.

That wicked light sparks in his gaze as if he replaces my antics hilarious. The total opposite of my intention. As soon as it comes, it’s gone and he asks curiously, “What are you looking for in a partner?”

“A virgin.” Yep. I’m bringing full-on psychotic and crazy to the party. I clear my throat and lay my expectations. “I want my future husband to be a virgin.”

His eyes go round in shock, not at all expecting that. Satisfaction burns through my chest that I finally caused a crack in his cocky attitude. Did I mention he has stubble across his sharp jawline? It only adds to his appeal.

He arches one perfect eyebrow, highlighting the sexy symmetry of his face. “You’d like your husband to be a dud in the sack? Any special desires you will groom him for?”

“Just feminist values,” I reply before flipping my hair back and shrugging. “Why must the woman always be pure? I’d also like for him to be a good cook, and not mind if we lived in our own house without a big family and no kids in the future. I’m very career-oriented.”

Everything Julian is not.

“Are all these nonnegotiable?” His face gives nothing away.

My heart thunders. “Yes.”

With bated breath, I wait for him to stand up, reject me for these insane demands, and walk out. I’m almost certain he will. Except, he does neither. Instead, he casually leans back, knuckles tapping rhythmically on the table, and calls me out on my shit. “You came here with your mind made up to reject me. Tell me why.”

“Everything I said is true. And I couldn’t exactly mention these qualities to the matchmaker, lest she tell my mother. We won’t work out since you obviously don’t possess any of those. So, we should part ways right now.”

“Who said I don’t?” he counters.

A humorous chuckle slips past my lips. “Are you saying you’re a virgin?”

“Too personal a question for a first date, don’t you think?”

“You seem too confident to be bothered by it.”

His gaze burns hotter at my sassy response. “Fine. I’m a virgin.”

“You’re lying,” I half scoff, half laugh.

“Maybe I’m saving myself for my wife.” Smirking, he taunts, “Why must the man always be a manwhore?”

Damn him for throwing my words back in my face. My cheeks flame in embarrassment. He’s turning out to be a tough cookie to turn down. Rather than ruffling his feathers, he’s ruffling mine. Then again, I’ve always loved a challenge. My desire has been twisted into a delicious thrill.

“Do you think I’m playing hard to get?” I accuse sharply. “Perhaps a chasing kink? Is that why you’re not backing down and continuing our dead-end date?”

“You’re fun to rile up. This is the most fun date I’ve ever been on. The only one I’ve ever been on.” Running his tongue between his teeth like a hunter eyeing its prey, he confesses, “And I’m curious to see just how many over-the-top excuses you’ll come up with to let me down, which is obviously your goal.”

“You say you want to settle down yet I’m the only woman you’ve seen?” I probe, disbelief evident in my voice. “You seriously expect me to believe that?”

“Had to start somewhere.” Again, a calm with an undercurrent of teasing in his tone.

“I’ll cut to the chase then,” I reply. “You’re not my type, you’re a liar, and I don’t think we are compatible for marriage. How’s that for an excuse?”

“Boring.”

I roll my eyes. “Then go replace someone entertaining.”

“You were about a second ago.”

“God! You’re infuriating.”

“I like getting under your skin.” When I glare, he smiles and confidently says, “And you want me.”

My obnoxious, condescending, and uppity attitude is giving him “I’m attracted to him” vibes.

Maybe because you’re not trying too hard to resist.

I shut down the taunting voice inside my head and continue to keep up the façade of being unaffected and lift my chin. “I do not.”

“Tell that to your blushing cheeks.”

“This is getting ridiculous,” I grumble, throwing my hands up. Either he can’t take a hint or my best friend put too much faith in my ability to say no. “Not only are you not my type but you’re also delusional. Best I run now before I tie myself to you forever.”

Frustrated with myself for crushing on his delulu self, I decide to get up and leave. But the waiter chooses that moment to arrive with my favorite dish, making my mouth water. The aroma of the food is enticing.

“Would you both like anything to drink?” he asks, his gaze ping-ponging between us after placing our dishes in front of us.

“No, thank you.” He walks away after Julian shakes his head no.

I reluctantly look toward the entrance, contemplating whether or not to leave. It will make him realize I’m—no, Tina, is—not worth the trouble.

“Don’t.” Julian’s sharp tone yanks me out of my haze.

“What?”

His gaze is warm yet intense, burning with the dominance I glimpsed before. “You’re not skipping away until you eat first. Sushi’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” How can he tell? He must sense it on my face because he answers in the next breath.

“I saw your excited smile when you ordered it.” His voice lowers to a sexual purr as he says, “There was no missing the way you licked your lips. So, why resist?”

The last teasing part is loaded with more than just a remark about my love for sushi. He’s like a tempting cocktail of charming and seductive. Every woman’s kryptonite. I rationalize with myself, saying it would be a pity to let such a fine dish go to waste.

“I’ll let you go if you promise to stay till the end of the date,” says Julian enticingly. It sounds more like a demand than a request. Yet it doesn’t appall me, only leaves a tingle in its wake. Oh, how I wish the circumstances were different. To entice me further, a boyish grin splits across his face. “It’d be embarrassing if I have to tell my friends my first date ended with a pretty girl walking out on me. Don’t bruise a man’s ego like that, darling.”

Ha. Like anyone could bruise his ego.

“Fine,” I reply and point my finger at him. “You’re paying, though.”

If nothing else, my cheap ass should do the job of sending him running for the hills. I must be the first woman to purposely make the date a disaster with a man she has tangible chemistry with.

“That was never a question,” he replies and winks. “Now enjoy your food, woman.”

We both dig in and the moment I take the first bite, the rich taste hitting my tongue, I suppress a delightful moan. My gaze connects with Julian’s and I realize it slipped out because lust darkens his pupils. The air becomes charged and sizzles again.

Breathless, I tear my eyes away and focus on quickly finishing my dish. Any more time in this man’s presence and I will combust into flames of desire. Comfortable silence ensues as we eat, glancing at each other now and then. I’m also disappointed when we’re done.

My chopsticks clatters to the plate and I wipe my mouth with a napkin.

“Did you like it?” he asks, sitting back as he waves at the waiter to bring the check. I watch his beefy arm flex, calling to every feminine bone in my body.

“It was delicious. I always order it whenever I get a chance to come here.”

“So, I did at least get one thing right today,” he teases. “Picking your favorite restaurant.”

I smirk. “I guess you did.”

The waiter arrives with the check. If it were a real date, I would’ve never let him pay and asked to split the bill. I have half a desire to change my mind but the determination to stick to the bitchy act stops me. The time to say goodbye has come.

“Shall we go?” he asks, rising at the same time I do. “Did you drive here?”

“No. I took a cab.” Before he can offer a ride home, I add, “I’ll Uber one back too.”

He shakes his head, amusement dancing in his eyes before placing his hand on the small of my back as we walk out. The warmth from his hand seeps into my skin through the barrier of my dress. I tuck one wayward strand behind my ear.

His closeness and his intoxicating scent driving me crazy. Every second feels like it’s running too fast, along with the rising panic at the fact that I’ll never see him again. The foreign feelings he’s brought to life are unlike anything I’ve felt for another man.

And I’m letting him walk away.

But if I tell him the truth, I’ll succeed in proving him I’m batshit crazy. That instead of being adults, I let my stupid best friend convince me to agree to this plan rather than confront him herself. We’re walking down the sparsely crowded lobby, almost to the door, and I sigh in displeasure.

He hears it.

“Fuck this.”

I hear Julian curse a second before he drags me into a secluded corner, tilts my chin as he pushes my back against the wall, and seals our lips together. I gasp into his mouth, giving him entrance, and moan when our tongues collide, tasting each other.

Just like everything about him, his taste and kiss are perfect.

Seductive. Commanding. Addictive.

Everything at once.

Yanked into his orbit, lost to the world and reasoning, I rise on my toes and thread my fingers in his silky hair. He groans huskily, biting down on my lip punishingly. Pleasure swarms my senses, turning my body pliable against his.

In the midst of our passionate kiss, his hands don’t take advantage in roaming freely over my overheated body. His palms cup my cheek gently while his mouth devours mine savagely until I’m certain he’ll leave my lips swollen, red, and tasting of him long after we part ways.

Then all too soon, he ends the best kiss of my life and puts several inches of space between us. His body no longer anchoring mine, I slowly blink back to reality.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I fucked up. He thinks I’m Tina, which means he’ll think she’s interested after all. Damn it, I threw water all over the last hour. I look up at him, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as mine. The dark lust staring back at me has my pussy clenching.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I rush to say, salvaging what I can.

“Say my name.”

I frown, startled. “Why?”

“Say it, Tina.”

I flinch upon hearing my best friend’s name from lips that kissed me possessively a mere second ago. I open my mouth but the words don’t form. Instead, I demand, “What will it prove?”

“It’ll tell me everything I need to know.”

One second passes as we keep staring at each other.

Two.

Three.

“No,” I whisper, unable to cross the invisible line. Instead, I lift my chin high and fuel my veins with misplaced rage, and offensively accuse, “What is wrong with you? You had no right to kiss me after I told you I did not want you. This just sealed my decision to never meet again.”

The spark I gazed into throughout our sham of a date disappears from his eyes.

My heart deflates when he utters solemnly, “You’re right, darling. We aren’t compatible. Goodbye.”