Page 7 of Erotic Temptations 1

I fingered the sleeve, his steady gaze on me. “I feel like a Christmas crime scene.”

He leaned closer, lips hovering close to my ear. “You’ve got the confidence for it. I’m impressed.”

God help me, I actually blushed.

Janet materialized out of nowhere, holding an enormous plastic cup of punch.

“Boys, you look like a pair of candy canes. Love the matching kitten theme.” She sized up Aaron’s sweater then mine. “I am so proud. This is what the holidays are all about.”

She twisted, stage-whispering to Aaron. “If you get tired of the bells, I have scissors in my desk.”

Aaron grinned back at her. “I like the bells. Adds drama.”

I shot him a sidelong look. “What about your cats? Shouldn’t they be yowling?”

He pointed at his sleeve. “Press the paw.” It meowed, tinny and faintly disturbing. The guy had one-upped me.

Janet cackled. “Aaron, you’re a man after my own heart.”

And mine, if I was lucky.

He winked at her, then turned back to me. “Open bar?”

As if there had ever been a more beautiful phrase.

Somewhere behind us, Marnie squealed. “Those sweaters are going to break the ugly meter!” She was wobbling, glass tilted, two steps beyond tipsy.

Janet snorted. “David’s going to win, easy. I put twenty bucks on it with legal.”

Aaron’s hand brushed my wrist. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“You can wear it next year if I win.” My mouth just said things sometimes.

“I’d rather see you out of it,” he murmured. “No offense to the kittens.”

My brain failed to process for a second. I took a drink of my wine, then nearly choked as people started up a debate about who had the worst sweater. Every time someone pointed at mine, I considered billing HR for emotional damages.

The decorations looked even brighter with the punch flowing. Lights reflected off Aaron’s sweater, making the sequined cats shimmer and dance. He stood close, real close, so nobody else could wedge between us.

People started wandering toward the buffet, loading paper plates. Every now and then, a bell from my sweater rang out above the music.

I’d always been background at these things. The forgotten face. Yet here was Aaron, CEO, standing at my side and smiling like he’d been waiting for me.

I risked a glance at his face. He looked at me like I was the only man in the room.

Suddenly, I didn’t mind the bells. Or the party. Or who was watching. Our elbows brushed. I could’ve told myself it was an accident, but nothing about Aaron felt accidental.

Someone called Aaron away for a work thing, and I wandered over to a table where Marnie was holding court. She’d found the rum punch and was mid-rant about the snack thief.

She waved me over, eyes wide and unfocused. “David! I caught two people making out in the copy room,” she said in the loudest whisper possible.

I tried not to sound interested. “Did you get pictures?”

She stumbled and nearly knocked over a stack of cookies. “No, but I heard slurping! It was definitely adult content.”

I looked over at the row of closed doors. “Copy room’s seen things, I hear.”

“Probably haunted,” she said, then giggled and followed it up with, “If you catch Aaron in a closet, call me.”