Hot Holidays

The Mistletoe Game CHAPTER 1: Adrian –––––––– Adrian wandered through the crowd at La Petite Mort Club, enjoying the lavish holiday decorations. Over the last ten plus years, he’d grown accustomed to a Christmas filled with sand, dirt and sometimes bullets, but that was his past. About eight months ago, his friend Mitch had convinced him to leave the Marines to work in cyber security at a private investigator firm. On most days, he was happy with his decision. The pay was fabulous and his boss, Patrick Westman, was great, but he missed the military—not the fighting or killing but the connection he’d had with his team of brothers. His phone beeped and he pulled it from his pocket. MITCH: Running late. He frowned at the screen. Late his ass. The bastard was hooking up. ADRIAN: Bullshit. Who is she? MITCH: Who knows & who cares? She’s got great t**s and an eager p***y. ADRIAN: Protect your soldier. MITCH: Always. He slid his phone back into his pocket. He was on his own. He stopped at the bar and pushed his bottle of Bud toward the front, signaling that he was ready for another. The bartender grabbed it, too busy to chat so Adrian scanned the crowd. Most of the people were behaving tonight—no shows on the stages, only a few couples having s*x. It was quiet but the air was filled with anticipation. It could be due to the Club being closed tomorrow for Christmas–one last bang before spending time with family–or it could be the game Desiree, one of the Pleasure Associates, was organizing. She stood on stage supervising two bouncers and a few customers as they arranged props draped in festive green, red and gold sheets on the main stage. He paid the bartender for the beer and took a gulp. He should go home and get some rest. His family had a big party planned for tomorrow. The only reason he’d come out tonight was because Mitch had begged him. That’d teach him for doing a good deed. His friend was getting laid and he was studying Christmas sheets on a stage. It was too bad he thought of Desiree like a kid sister. He needed to get laid. His gaze skimmed over the bar and screeched to a halt on the saddest woman he’d ever seen. She sat alone, her face pale and lips tight but it was her eyes that made his heart twist. She looked like her world had ended and he hated, absolutely hated, seeing women sad. His six sisters could attest to that. He’d taken many a punishment for things they’d done to keep them from crying. The woman stared at her phone and then wiped her eyes, leaving a smudge of mascara on her cheek and making her look even sadder. That was it. He was going to cheer this lady up. He grabbed his beer and froze as she answered her phone, a smile spreading across her face. “s**t,” he mumbled. That smile transformed her from okay-looking to gorgeous. She had thick, honey-brown hair, high cheekbones with a wide mouth and lush, red lips that promised all sorts of pleasurable things. His d**k hardened. Change of plans. He wasn’t just going to cheer her up; he was going to make her smile, preferably as she gazed up at him from his bed. Baby steps. First, he had to meet her. Then he’d f**k her. His gaze dropped to her wrist. He was both disappointed and relieved that she wasn’t wearing a bracelet that marked her as a Pleasure Associate. If she had been, s*x would’ve been a sure thing, but he did love a challenge. He made his way around the bar toward her. It was time to brighten both their nights.