Bad Boys Under the Mistletoe: A Begging for Bad Boys Collection Read online

  Way to go, you bastard. Now you’ve gone and fucked everything up.

  “Come on, don’t be mad,” Wolfe pleaded as he caught up to her again. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear.”

  He tried to snag her hand again, but Shelby anticipated the move. She avoided him, spinning out of reach as she wheeled to face him.

  “You weren’t laughing at me?” she scoffed, her blue eyes like ice. “Because it kind of seemed like you were.”

  Wolfe just shook his head, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her for fear of her rejecting him again.

  “Look, I’m sorry that I laughed, okay? It’s just…don’t you see how insane all this is?” he asked, waving a hand at the surrounding wilderness in emphasis. “You come up here on a whim to spend Christmas alone, all to avoid your family and some guy you don’t even have real feelings for. Once here, you rescue a complete stranger in the middle of the night, saving his dumb ass from freezing to death on your front porch. Then, to top it all off, you invite said stranger to stay with you, alone, even though he could totally be some random psycho murderer who has a thing for pretty blondes.”

  Wolfe was slightly breathless once he’d finished his tirade, but Shelby didn’t seem to notice.

  “Well, are you some random psycho murderer who has a thing for pretty blondes?” she asked, arms crossed and lips quirked in a sardonic smile.

  Wolfe sighed his relief; the return of her sarcasm was a good sign, in his opinion.

  Wolfe shook his head, taking a small step in her direction. He was pleased when she didn’t back away from him again.

  “Only half of that is true,” he said, feeling his pulse jump in response to the risky game they were both playing.

  Wolfe took another step. Now they were standing less than a foot apart.

  Shelby was not the least bit intimidated by his close proximity. She just raised her chin as she looked up at him, her blue eyes glittering mischievously.

  “Which half?” she asked, her voice pitched seductively low.

  “The good one,” he replied simply.

  And then he kissed her.

  Well, they both kind of reached for each other at the same time, but Wolfe wasn’t really one to split hairs.

  Especially not in this instance.

  The kiss was both chaotic and passionate.

  Which amused Wolfe, because those were two words he’d probably use to describe her now that he’d gotten to know her a little better.

  Shelby moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss further. His tongue twined with hers as her hands slid up his neck, her gloved fingers tightening in the hair beneath his hat.

  He felt his duffel bag hit the ground at his feet, the strap sliding from his shoulder as he moved to grip her by the waist. He pulled her as close as their thick winter clothes would allow, which wasn’t nearly close enough to satisfy him.

  Shelby apparently felt the same way, because she suddenly broke away from the kiss, releasing her hold on his hair as she began to unzip her puffy coat.

  In that moment, Wolfe snapped back to reality.

  “Wait,” he said, stalling her progress with the coat zipper by laying his hand over hers.

  “What?” Shelby asked, still breathless from their kiss.

  They were both panting slightly, their breath fogging out between them like little puffs of smoke.

  “We can’t do this; at least not here,” he explained, eyeing the snow all around them. “It’s too cold.”

  Shelby seemed to regain her senses then, her face turning red as she stepped back from him to readjust her coat and scarf. He did the same, pulling his hat back down over his ears and reaching down to reclaim his momentarily forgotten duffel bag.

  “It’ll be getting dark soon, anyway,” Shelby said quietly, not looking at him. She turned away to start walking toward the cabin again. “We best get back before that happens.”

  Wolfe trailed after her silently, wondering if he was only imagining the sudden awkwardness he felt forming between them.

  Or if the kiss had just been a big mistake.

  Chapter 8

  Shelby rolled over for what had to have been the zillionth time in the past hour, trying to find a position that was comfortable enough for her to finally fall asleep.

  She closed her eyes, trying to think of only peaceful and soothing thoughts. But after a few minutes, Shelby’s eyes sprang back open and she flopped over on her back with a sigh.

  It was no use; she just couldn’t sleep.

  The problem wasn't that the bed was uncomfortable, or that she’d had too much caffeine before bedtime—though she wished it was something so simplistic.

  No, the problem was lying on the couch in the living room less than fifty feet away from her, probably sleeping like a rock.

  Shelby sighed again as she stared up at the bedroom ceiling, thinking of Wolfe.

  He’s all I seem to think about anymore, she thought grudgingly. Him, and that damn kiss.

  Just thinking the word had Shelby conjuring up memories of how it felt to have his arms around her, her fingers twisted in his hair. How the shadow of his unshaved beard rasped against her bare skin as he brought his face down to hers.

  And how his hot tongue had delved against her own, flicking expertly around her mouth as if it belonged to him.

  The kiss had been short, but intense. That much was certain.

  Shelby felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment as she recalled how she’d been so caught up in the moment, that she’d been willing to let Wolfe take her right there in the middle of the forest, the snow and cold be damned.

  That was, until Wolfe had stopped her.

  Shelby groaned, throwing an arm over her face as if she could hide from her own shame.

  Three days had come and gone since then, and Shelby had nothing to show for it aside from the near constant ache at her core that even touching herself couldn’t assuage.

  It didn’t help that the source of her sexual frustration was trapped inside this cabin with her, unwilling to touch her in any way that wasn’t strictly platonic.

  And it all started after that damn kiss!

  Neither one of them had brought up the kiss since it happened, which was probably their first mistake.

  They had both been quiet for the rest of their walk back to the cabin afterward, Shelby being too mortified about her brazen behavior to make conversation. And Wolfe…

  Well, that was just it; Shelby didn’t know why he’d suddenly become so withdrawn. She just knew that it had started sometime after that.

  Maybe I’ve been friend-zoned, Shelby thought, bitterly amused. It certainly feels that way.

  It was true, in a sense.

  Over the past three days, they had gotten to know each other a lot better. They joked around and swapped stories while cooking their meals together or watching TV. They played cards or held competitions to see who was better at catching popcorn in their mouths when it was thrown to them.

  Just today, Shelby had hooked up her iHome and had somehow gotten Wolfe to sing along to old country songs with her, all the while teasing each other about who was the worst singer.

  They had become good friends, spending most of the waking hours of the day sharing each other’s company, and Shelby could honestly say that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun, with anyone.

  But Wolfe still remained distant from her in the way that she wanted him the most. The sexual tension was so palpable between them sometimes that Shelby felt like she might actually choke on it. She just couldn’t tell if Wolfe was oblivious to it, or if he was only pretending he couldn’t feel it, too.

  And to make matters worse, the snow was quickly melting away outside.

  Which meant her time alone with him was about to run out, sooner rather than later.

  “Screw it,” Shelby said out loud, finally giving up on trying to fall asleep as she climbed out of the bed. “Time for some old-fashioned sleep aid.”

 
She cracked open her bedroom door and listened hard for any sounds, but the rest of the cabin was quiet, save for the gentle popping and snapping of the fire.

  Shelby slid silently out the door and crept slowly down the hall, taking care not to make the wooden floorboards creak too loudly, so as not to disturb Wolfe.

  Her efforts were wasted however, seeing as how he was already awake. Shelby had made it halfway across the living room, heading for the kitchen, when he finally spoke up.

  “You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” he said, nearly making Shelby jump out of her skin.

  She spun around, hand pressed against her heart as she watched him sit up from where he’d been lying on the couch. He was backlit by the fire, so all she could see of him was his dark silhouette.

  “Jesus, Wolfe, you scared me half to death,” she scolded, but then she sighed. “I thought you were asleep.”

  He just shook his head, shifting around to put his feet on the floor as he stood.

  “Well, you might as well join me for a nightcap then,” she said, making them both wince momentarily at the sudden brightness as she flipped on the kitchen light.

  Wolfe nodded, padding over to stand by her as he gave her a sleepy smile.

  “Sounds good,” he said, followed by a yawn. “What do ya got?”

  Shelby stared at him for a beat longer than what was strictly socially acceptable.

  He was just so damn sexy like this, what with his dark hair all mussed and his bare feet peeking out from beneath the flannel pajama pants he was wearing. Shelby finally forced herself to look away when he lifted his arms over his head in a languid stretch, his muscles rippling deliciously and his t-shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of taut skin and the little smattering of hair that was his happy trail.

  Shelby quickly busied herself with locating the booze, uncertain which cabinet she had stored it in when she’d originally put her groceries away a few days ago. She located it on her third try, after opening the one above the stove.

  “Uh, some Jack Daniel’s?” she said, taking down the amber bottle and offering it out to him.

  He took it from her, nodding appreciatively.

  “Are there any shot glasses?” he asked, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

  Shelby shook her head, opening a different set of cabinets that housed all the cabin’s dishes.

  “No shot glasses,” she said, standing on her tiptoes as she reached for the topmost shelf. “But we have mugs,” she countered, taking two of them down and holding them out for his inspection. “You can either have Santa or Snoopy.”

  “Give me Santa,” he said after a moment of deliberation. “It is Christmas Eve tomorrow, after all. Or I guess, today,” he amended quickly, having caught sight of the time on the digital clock on the stove.

  “Really?” Shelby asked, handing him his mug. “I had no idea,” she said, pulling one of the barstools around in to the kitchen so that she could sit across from him.

  “Yep,” Wolfe said, cracking the seal on the whiskey before unscrewing the top.

  “Do you want one finger or two?” he asked, bottle poised over her mug as he waited for her answer.

  “Better make it two,” she said, not even having to think about it. “This girl can handle her liquor.”

  “Is that so?” he mused, pouring her drink first before filling his own mug. “Care to play a little drinking game then?”

  Shelby was all too eager to rise to his challenge.

  “Sure,” she said easily, before a sudden idea struck her and she gave him a sly smile. “But I get to pick the game.”

  Wolfe just rolled his eyes, used to her antics at this point.

  “Of course,” he conceded with a smirk, making Shelby think back to how he had said the same thing after agreeing to play their first game together.

  Their eyes locked, and Shelby felt that all-too-familiar tension form between them when neither one of them opted to look away first.

  Prepare to tell me what’s been going on inside that head of yours, mountain man, she thought conspiratorially to herself.

  But out loud, she just said, “Great. Because the game is Truth or Dare, my friend. And you’re about to lose, big time.”

  Chapter 9

  “You want to play Truth or Dare?” Wolfe asked, dubious. “Isn’t that a kid’s game?”

  “Not when whiskey’s involved,” Shelby replied, folding her arms on the breakfast bar in front of her. Her blue eyes were as determined as he’d ever seen them. “Unless you’re too scared to play…”

  This woman and her question games, he thought wryly to himself.

  Wolfe rolled his eyes at her taunting jab, but he nodded anyway.

  “Alright,” he sighed dramatically, making Shelby roll her own eyes this time. “So, how does this work as a drinking game?”

  “Okay, so we each have our shots,” Shelby explained, tilting her head to indicate their mugs on the counter between them. “Just like regular Truth or Dare, we’ll take turns asking each other questions. If the person being questioned follows through with their truth or dare, then the question asker has to drink. But, if the person refuses to answer the truth or do the dare, then they have to drink. Understand?”

  Wolfe nodded along, the premise fairly simple.

  I might be able to use this to my advantage, Wolfe thought, perking up at the prospect of getting some answers from her.

  For instance, if she regretted their kiss in the woods…

  Or if she wanted more.

  That question had nearly driven him insane over the past couple of days.

  After she’d been so weird on their walk back to the cabin, Wolfe had decided to back off from his romantic pursuits. At least until he could figure out what was going on, on her end of things.

  The only problem was that Shelby was frustratingly difficult to read sometimes. He couldn’t decipher between what was innocent teasing or actual flirting with this woman, and he wasn’t quite willing to make an ass of himself just yet by gambling on her wanting him in the same way that he did and getting it wrong.

  So he’d stepped back, biding his time as he waited for her to make the next move.

  But Wolfe wasn’t sure he could hold out much longer at this point.

  He’d grown to care for her more and more with each day that passed as they waited for the snow to melt, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his distance from this beautiful, crazy woman.

  Particularly now, with her blonde hair falling around her shoulders in a tumble of sexy waves and the peaks of her breasts—visible through the thin cotton of her sleep shirt—making it pretty damn difficult for him to maintain eye contact with her.

  Shelby cleared her throat and he jerked his head up, belatedly realizing that she had been talking to him while he eyed her rack like a middle school boy who’d never seen tits before.

  “What?” he asked her, feeling his neck and face grow hot with embarrassment at getting caught checking her out.

  Shelby didn’t seem to suspect him of it, though.

  “You’re not falling asleep on me over there, are ya?” she teased, hooking an eyebrow at him.

  Wolfe shook his head, silently relieved for her misinterpretation of his lowered eyes.

  “No.”

  Shelby smiled, satisfied.

  “Good,” she said, wiggling around on her stool a little to get more comfortable before leaning forward again. “Anyway, what I had asked you was: do you want to go first, or should I?”

  “What? You mean I actually get to pick this time?” he asked sarcastically.

  “You’re right,” she shot back with a derisive smirk. “I’ll go first then.”

  No surprise there.

  Shelby’s penetrating gaze fixed on him like a hunter sizing up her prey, making Wolfe suddenly nervous. He repressed the urge to gulp.

  “Okay, Wolfe; truth or dare?” she asked, her tone turning unexpectedly serious.

  Wolfe thought about it for a second.

>   “Truth, I guess,” he said, sounding as uncertain as he suddenly felt.

  Shelby took a deep breath, like she was bracing herself for impact.

  “Are you gay?”

  Wolfe made a strangled, coughing sound in surprise. That had been the last thing he’d assumed would come out of her mouth.

  “You think I’m gay?” he sputtered, incredulous.

  Shelby shrugged, biting her lip.

  “I don’t know; are you?” she asked tentatively, seeming to shrink a little in the face of his reaction.

  “Hell, no!” he declared firmly, still reeling from the shock of her first question. He jerked his chin at her Snoopy mug and declared, “You deserve that shot after that.”

  “I’m sorry, jeeze,” she muttered, reaching for her mug. “I just wanted to know for sure.”

  Wolfe watched her knock back the shot. To her credit, she took it like a champ, not so much as even pulling a face at the taste as she set her empty mug back down on the counter.

  “Alright, my turn,” Wolfe insisted as Shelby finished refilling her mug, keen on getting some payback now that the ball was in his court. “Truth or dare?”

  Shelby rolled her eyes at his impatience, but complied.

  “Dare,” she said smugly, seeming to think she could avoid what she had coming.

  Oh no you don’t, little Miss Are-you-gay, he thought, not deterred by her scheme for a second.

  “Fine,” he replied, just as smug. “I dare you to tell me why—of all things— you would think that I was gay.”

  “You can’t do that!” she said, her hands striking the counter in protest.

  “I just did,” he said with a smirk, leaning back to cross his arms over his chest in satisfaction.

  But Wolfe had gravely underestimated Shelby’s threshold for underhanded tactics.

  “Fine,” she conceded flippantly. “Then I’ll pass!”

  And the clever little minx drained her mug, just to spite him.

  “There,” she said, slamming her mug back down and looking entirely too pleased with herself. “You happy now?”

  “Not really,” Wolfe said dryly, arms still crossed. But he couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at his lips.