Page 14 of SnowBound

“Nah. I survived.”

“So? Are we good?” she asked, her blue eyes full of sparks.

I squeezed my nape with a hand, casting a glance at my feet. “Guess so,” I said, exhaling a long breath before meeting her expectant gaze.

“Then let’s go. Follow me.”

After we dropped our pieces of baggage behind the café counter, we walked side by side for a moment. I broke the silence, wanting to make sure Abby had heard me loud and clear. “I’m not taking part in your airport fun, you know. Already told ya.”

She sighed and entered an empty room that resembled an office or an interrogation chamber.

“You can’t go in there.”

She glanced at me over her shoulder with an expression that said Watch me. Seconds later, she wheeled herself out on a desk chair.

“What are you—?”

“Since you’re not being a great sport and I have no intention of spending the night alone in here, I’m going to give you a tour of the airport.”

“You won’t. I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are. Now sit, won’t you?”

I shook my head but did. Why? Again, no idea. Maybe I loved the company. And her energy. Or the idea somebody cared enough to not leave me behind.

Whatever.

She stood in front of me, a serious demeanor painting her beautiful features. “Now the rules. Listen carefully. You and I, we’re playing Santa’s challenge.”

I watched her and blinked. “Santa’s challenge? Are you fucking with me?”

She rested her fists on her hips, her don’t-argue expression fully on. “Do you think you’re too cool for some fun, Aaandy?”

“No. You said Santa’s challenge. I interpreted it as a childish game. And I’m not in the mood for some stupid dares or whatever waste-of-time activities you’ve got planned. If we’re playing games, I’m out.”

Abby continued, ignoring me. “Santa’s challenge means I can do whatever I want to you as long as you sit on that chair.”

“Forget it. Already told you I’m not a willing participant.”

She shook her head. “Stop arguing. Now you’re the one wasting my time. As I said, as long as you sit on that chair, you’re at my mercy. I can challenge you as I see fit. And you’re not allowed to refuse, or you lose.”

“Are you messing with me right now? Who came up with this idea?”

“I did. Just now. Thought you liked being challenged. I saw that smile you tried to conceal earlier during my snowflake experiment.” At the sound of her voice, now low and gravelly, and the memory of her licking a whipped-cream-coated finger, a tightness grew between my thighs. She quirked a brow, and my insides clenched.

I kept a neutral face. “I do.” I cleared my throat in an attempt to chase away the effect she had on me. “Not tonight, though.”

With her hands resting on the armrests, Abby leaned forward, her crystal-blue irises drawing me in. “Get used to it. I love games. And this will be fun.”

Did she even hear a word I said?

“You can’t stand. That’s the first rule. You can move your upper body, but…”

“But what?”

She pointed to my crotch—no, my legs—she pointed to my legs.

“But not the lower part because you’ll be disqualified. I’ll come up with Christmassy challenges, and you must play along.”