She laughed, earning me another huge smile and I groaned, setting my hand over my heart, bowing my head in a dramatic gesture.

“Now you’re just playing with me, baby.” Before I could give it too much thought, I unexpectedly pulled her toward me, bringing her into my arms where she just felt right. “I’ll ask again. Where are you going?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Damn, I take two steps forward and three steps back with you. Is that the way you’re going to play it?”

She smirked.

I reached over, softly gripping the back of her neck and bringing her closer to me.

“Is it true what they say about football players?”

“What do they say?”

“That you’re as aggressive and controlling in the bedroom as you are on the field.”

I rasped against her lips. “Come home with me and find out.”

She softly gasped. “Is it that easy for you?”

I didn’t falter—I loved the way she was looking at me. “You tell me.”

“How do I know you’re not going to kidnap me?”

“How do I know you’re not going to kidnap me?” I repeated, stifling a chuckle.

“You’re like what? 6’3 and two hundred and something… I think you maybe out of my league.”

“But I could go the whole nine yards. I don’t like to lose.”

“I’m not a trophy.”

“I beg to differ.” With my finger, I lifted her chin to look deep into her eyes. “Come home with me, Sophie.”

She narrowed her eyes at me for a couple of seconds before she stepped back and nodded. “Lead the way.”

I grabbed her hand and did exactly that.

Knowing in that moment…

I. Was. Fucked.

*     *     *

Thank you for reading ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU!

Jax Colton will eventually get his own book. But for now you can start reading in this world right now, with Second Chance Contract by M. Robinson.

Silver Bells

Alta Hensley

Chapter One

Lyriope

This should be mine.

The dripping chandeliers, the gowns, the diamonds, the exclusive money that oozes from every crack of the mansion. Black and gold decorations with a pop of red represent the Morelli family. Rich with undertones of blood.

Not my family… but it should be.

“This was a bad idea,” Sasha Morelli says as she stands next to me, nervously running her finger along the edge of her champagne glass. “I should have never snuck you in here. You’re going to get caught. We’re both going to get caught. I don’t think you realize how much trouble we could get into.”

“I know it’s not safe to be here, and I know what happens if I’m caught. I’m quite aware the bastard does not belong at a Morelli Christmas party,” I tell my cousin, wishing I didn’t have to be brought in through a back entrance.