And that blush made her even prettier.
I noticed similarities with both women. Related definitely. Sisters maybe?
I lifted my hand again and scrubbed it over my lips, my mouth feeling so dry, my tongue swelling. I wanted to tear that costume off her body and see what lay underneath. She was tiny compared to me, at least a whole foot shorter than my six-foot-five height. Hell, I was double her size and probably triple her weight. Her limbs were willowy but toned, her long brown hair swept over one shoulder and curling at the ends. From this distance, I couldn’t make out the color of her eyes, but they looked light. Maybe a blue, or even a gray.
Every instinct in me roared up to go to her, to wrap my arm around her waist, pull her flush against my body, and claim her mouth, marking her so everyone in this fucking room knew who she belonged to.
Who she belongs to? Fuck, I was losing my damn mind.
Wellsie was talking to her now, her hand moving up and down over the woman’s form. After a while, it looked like they came to some kind of agreement, and then the other woman went to turn, presumably to head back into the room she came out of. Her eyes scanned the room before they locked on me.
My heart stopped in my chest again, then promptly restarted. Over and over again, it did this the longer we held each other’s stare. I couldn’t tear my focus from her, and it seemed like she couldn’t either.
That pinkness on her cheeks darkened, and she lifted her hand to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. I noticed she wore little earrings, pearls that made her seem even more delicate. Her skin was luminescent, pale like porcelain, seeming just as smooth as well. My fingers curled into my palms, the need to see how soft her flesh was riding me hard.
A young man started walking in front of me, and as if on instinct, I reached out and grabbed his arm, halting him. He stiffened and looked at me, this scowl on his face before he had to crane his head back to look into my face. The color blanched from his expression, and he swallowed.
“Who is that?” I growled, not giving a shit how territorial I sounded. I tipped my chin toward the woman in red.
He glanced over his shoulder at her in reference.
She now ducked her head and all but hauled ass into the dressing room, closing the door behind her and making a low growl leave me. I didn’t want her away from me, didn’t want anything between us, not a person, not resistance, and sure as fuck not a door.
When he didn’t answer me right away, I loosened my hold on his arm before letting go totally. I was probably scaring the shit out of him.
“That’s Blythe Ander. Wellsie’s sister,” he murmured quickly, then hightailed it away from me.
Blythe.
God, her name was like heavenly bells in my fucking ears. My body grew tighter, harder, and my skin tingled. If I had this kind of reaction to just the way she looked across a crowded room, to the sound of her name ringing in my head, then what would it be like to have her under me, naked, writhing, straining and gasping as I gave her every single inch of my body?
I physically shook.
I may have lost my damn mind, but I knew one thing for certain. She was the woman I’d been waiting for my entire life, and I was going to do everything to ensure I made her mine.
3
Blythe
I leaned against the closed door, my palms flat behind me on the cold wood, my heart racing, my breathing frantic. My stomach was hollowing from the force of my respirations, but there was no way I could control myself.
And it was all because some man had caught my eye across the room, his focus so intently on me that there was no doubt he’d been watching me for an extended amount of time.
I had no idea why I was having this kind of reaction. It had been so sudden, so instantaneous, that it had sucked the breath right from my lungs and refused to let me move. And so I’d been rooted to the spot, staring at the stranger across the room, taking in his mammoth size, and the fact that he towered above everyone else. Even now, I thought about his physical presence and felt a chill of awareness move through me.
His shoulders had been defined and wide, his chest so very broad, and his biceps had bulged under his jacket. He was, in one word, masculine. So very masculine and potent that my brain had somehow short circuited. And although I knew nothing about him, my body and mind didn’t care.
My reaction had been strictly physical; there was no denying that. This tingling at the base of my spine, the tightening of my muscles, the way my heart sped up, and how my palms started to sweat... he turned me on.
I felt like I’d been dropped into a pot of boiling water, but the strange thing was… I had no problem with being boiled alive, not if the man on the other side of this door was the cause of it.
I closed my eyes and smoothed my hands over the ridiculous costume I wore. I was embarrassed to admit I was wet. God, I was wet between my thighs.
The whole reason I’d gone out there was to tell Wellsie I was not about to wear the outfit. Not only was it outdated as hell, but it was clear the previous owner had been half my size. The hem of the bottom nearly showed my crotch and ass cheeks, and the bodice was dipped so obscenely low that one small wardrobe malfunction and you’d see nipple action.
And my damn sister had barely been able to suppress her amusement as she took me in. How she or Molly thought this thing would fit me was beyond me and ridiculous. I was modest by nature, but putting this thing on when I’d be surrounded by children and families?
No. I felt indecent, as if what I was selling wasn’t holiday cheer and giving away free candy canes, but instead trying to sell off my tits and ass.
But there was no time for anything else, no time to try to scrounge up another costume, or have Molly tack on some extra fabric. So the solution was to slap on some tights, ones that were thick enough they were more like pants than anything else. I’d also wear a shirt underneath so at least it covered up my tits, and maybe I’d add a thick scarf to hide how tight the outfit was.
Big hands, strong thighs. And no doubt a huge....
God, the way that man looked at me, his eyes raking me up and down. I shivered, not sure why my thoughts instantly went from the outfit to the stranger.
Who was he?
Although I lived in Mistletoe my entire life, it wasn’t like I knew every single resident. I kept to myself, my days filled with working at the library, or volunteering at the florist shop, where they’d put together bouquets that were delivered to the local nursing home. I had maybe a couple of friends, but they were not in town anymore, still in college working on their graduate education.
I breathed out and told myself to get my shit together, to get out of this ridiculous costume and head back out there. I had a shift at the library, and right now, the last thing I wanted to do was let my libido take control. Not that I’d ever had it do that in my entire life. Heck, I’d never really felt attraction for anyone, never needed to give myself over to a man.
Until him.
At twenty-one, I was perfectly content to be classified as a prude. I also had no problem being a virgin. I’d only ever been sloppy kissed once in high school, which had been just as awkward and disgusting as it sounded. I guess it left such a gross taste in my mouth— figuratively and literally—I had never wanted to try it again.
So yeah, I was inexperienced in all that. But the way he looked at me made me want to be so experienced... with him.