Tangled in Tinsel (The More the Merrier, #1)

by Trilina Pucci

“Hey, what’s up?” I answer, tapping one of my AirPods, already knowing who it is. “I’m knee-deep in tinsel and red balls.” My sister snorts from the other end. “It’s better than blue ones.”

“Bitch, are you crazy? Forget the tree. Scram. You might not make it to the hotel.” “Can you not be so dramatic? I’ll be fine. I just need to wrap this up. You go and find me a decent hotel. Please, and thank you.” I start to hang up before hurriedly adding, “With room service.”

“The room’s perfect. Almost as gorgeous as you—” He pauses in that way again before inhaling slowly and letting it drift out, adding, “I can’t wait to discover all the other talents you’re hiding from me.” The gravel in his voice spreads over my skin, leaving hidden goosebumps, making me shiver. Close your mouth, Samantha.

Alec - Jason Clarke

What the hell is happening? I’ve fallen off the ladder and hit my head. That’s it. This is one of my dreams. Next, he’ll tell me to drop to my knees because he wants to feed me his big ol’ candy cane.

“Well, Mr. Price, it’s easy to decorate such a beautiful home. These open layouts are my favorite designs for making a large space feel cozy. And these Douglas firs”—I turn back—“are girthy, really nice to handle.” Jesus, is it hot in here? And did I just say girthy? Stop being a whore. JUST STOP BEING A WHORE. I adjust the neck of my sweater as he looks down at me with a grin. “Call me Alec.” Our eyes connect. “And Samantha, you can handle my girthy tree anytime.” “Got it,” I answer, shooting out finger guns. Fuck me running. What am I doing? I officially hate myself. How am I allowed to be in my thirties and this awkward?

Gorgeous, charming rogues, more like. That’s the best way to describe Alec’s friends. In the year I’ve been their designer, I’ve witnessed enough moments to solidify that judgment. They’re beautiful bastards with terrible ideas and the perfect smiles to sell you on all of them. They’re the kind of men you’d happily let destroy you because it’s better to get them for one night than for none at all. But that’s all you’d get—one night. From what I’ve seen, nobody double dips. Ever.

That’s Reed.

Reed - Jason ? Update from the end of- I think it’s Connor

Reed’s more charming than his bank account, and that’s massive. And if I remember correctly, and I do, Reed sleeps in the nude. I found out one morning when I arrived early to start work on his bedroom.

I swallow, remembering how I just stood there, staring like I’d never seen a dick before. But, like, his dick is impressive, the unicorn of dicks. Girthy. Jesus, let me never think that word again.

Hello, Cole.

Cole - Troy Duran

Jace.

Jace - Connor Crais

Jace is the golden retriever energy of the group. And the youngest, as in a hair under forty.

Jace feels like a hug. One you want to squeeze you tight, so you can dry hump his leg.

But it’s still going in the bean bank.

“It’s the least we could do, considering we’re not letting you leave.”

didn’t notice as they were packing everything away for me. I was too busy sweating. My body all fired up like a cat in heat. Fuck. Alec draws my face back to his with a finger under my chin. “You’re not going anywhere, gorgeous. I refuse to be an accessory to your death.” I’m shaking my head, but he grins as his finger drops. I can’t stay here with these four guys…for god knows how long. I don’t have a toothbrush. Or pajamas. Oh my god, what if I have to poop? I’m not pooping here. I’d rather brave the snowstorm. I’d rather freeze to death like the homeless guy in Scrooged.

“Where’s my car? I can’t see my car.” Reed’s voice comes from behind. “Getting covered in snow, sweetheart. It’s a whiteout.” As if on cue, my phone buzzes. I press it to my ear, knowing it’s my sister. “I can’t see my car.” “What? Welp, it’s probably for the best because it’s a no for hotels. Sold out. Everywhere.” “Elle, there are four bedrooms and five people.” Oh god. Why is this happening to me? My sister chuckles because she’s a witch. “Guess who’s sluttin’ it up with four hot guys tonight?” My shoulders sag. This is going to be so fucking awkward. “I hate you.” “Love you. Get pregnant, and then we’ll be set for li—” I hang up and look over my shoulder.

My eyes connect with each of the guys—Cole’s jaw tenses from where he’s seated, and Alec leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. Jace props himself up with a hand against the counter as he pops a grape into his mouth. But it’s Reed who holds my attention. “I really can’t stay—” He gives his signature smirk. “But, baby, it’s cold outside.”

“Guess what, it has a charger for your phone.”

“But now they’ll be on their best behavior. Unless you request differently.” “So all the fun’s up to me, huh?”

I start to look away, Cole locks eyes with me. It’s the kind of eye contact that doesn’t waver. The kind that makes you nervous. And the kind that leaves you believing this man can fuck. Alec’s voice caresses my thoughts as Cole minutely lifts his drink in cheers.

Did he mouth what I think he said? No, there’s no way.

Alec said to enjoy myself, but some lines never need to be crossed. Ever.

“None of you know how to cook? Seriously? It’s a basic skill, guys.” “No. But we like to eat,” Reed offers, looking me up and down. Why does everything these guys say feel like a double entendre? It’s because I’ve worked myself into a horny mess, that’s why. Still, the others smirk. And it feels illicit—so very fucking illicit. Or that’s how I’ll remember it tonight when I’m alone in bed.

For fuck’s sake. Well, I guess we’re all going to get food poisoning. Because there’s no way I’ll be able to focus enough to make it through dinner without salmonella and E. coli gang-banging this party.

“You realize that if I weren’t here, nobody would know what fork to eat with.” He winks. “You can thank me later for the things I’ve taught them.” There’s a beat of silence before Alec chuckles.

“So you went to a prep school? Like the one in Gossip Girl?” Jace grins, picking up on my teasing tone as I add, “Did an anonymous person talk about all the dalliances of your day? Was there a scandal? Did you know any girls named Blair or Serena? Were you the real Chuck Bass, running around saying things like, ‘I’m Reed Forthman.’” Reed’s hand shoots out, tickling my side, making me squeal. “You little smartass. Do you think I didn’t watch that show? Chuck Bass is a pussy. For your information, I went to Hillcrest Prep. The number one school in the country.”

“In Chicago. Reed and I met in college.” “Yale,” Reed offers with too much big dick energy.

Cole taps a finger on the table, making my eyes jump to his. “Boyfriend?” I don’t know what it is about him that makes me feel obstinate and obedient at the same time. Maybe it’s the brusque way he speaks. It’s demanding. I like it, and I want to rebel. Cole expects me to answer him first. I can tell because he’s slowly strumming his fingers impatiently on the table. Fuck, that’s hot. But instead of giving him what he wants, I look at Alec. “Berkeley. Double major in Business and Architectural Design.” Then to Reed. “Because I like making places feel like home for people. It’s rewarding.” Next to Jace. “Born in Portland, Oregon. Raised in Northern California. San Jose, specifically.” And finally, Cole, who has the most amused look on his gorgeous face as I say, “Why do you want to know? It’s not as if you have a chance at dating me….You’re a client, after all.”

Jace laughs. “Oh shit, Cole. I think you’ve met your match.” I look over at Jace’s dimples that I like so much as he continues. “No one ever gets one over Mr. Buttoned Up over there.” He gives me a wry grin. “Careful. You might be in trouble now, Samantha.” Reed takes my glass, adding, “Here, this’ll help ease the sting from the spanking you’re going to get.” I know what’s said is meant to be tongue-in-cheek, but I can’t help the tiny shiver it invokes. A shiver that doesn’t go unnoticed by Cole. Whose jaw flexes before he adjusts in his seat.

Grumbles sound around the table, making me laugh. Jace even boos me, causing me to slip back into my drunk alter ego effortlessly.

My mouth pops open, enjoying every minute. Am I flirting with a table of men? Yes. Do they like it? Also, yes.

So I raise my brows, tempting him to answer, but Reed pokes my waist, making me squirm and laugh again. As I look down at him, everything grows quiet. The tip of Reed’s tongue traces back and forth over his pointy tooth. There’s something so arrogant and animalistic about it. Like I’m a snack, and he’s hungry. God, how does he do this—his attention feels like it vacuum-seals the space around us. If he were a vampire, this would be the moment that I’d be like Bella and break my neck to expose my throat. Fucking bite me for real. “Hey, Samantha,” he says, hushed like it’s a secret. “You know if you stay up…we’ll show you exactly what grown men do to let loose… I think you’ll like it.”

This time I’m speechless. What Reed said feels sexy, but I can’t trust myself because I can feel how drunk I truly am now that I’ve stood up. My sister always says, “Never sit and drink because you’ll fall down when you stand.” It’s the only good advice she’s ever given me. But despite knowing I should run to my room before I crawl there, I keep horny-flirting.

Jesus, the number of dirty thoughts playing across my mind makes me a bonafide wine slut.

God, just the thought of it makes me let out the tiniest hum. Until Cole growls. Fuck. Everything inside me melts, pooling in my damn underwear as my eyes shoot to his. Cole’s jaw ticks before he speaks. “Stop teasing our girl. There’s always tomorrow. It’s time for Alec to take her to bed.”

“You’re taking me to bed?” I say way too breathlessly. Jesus, throw your pussy at him, why don’t you? “Yes, Samantha, I am. The shower can be tricky. I’ll show you the room. Help you get settled. Unless you don’t want me to.”

Three glasses of wine, and I’m all for an orgy. I’m such a lightweight. A disgrace. I’m sorry .008 percent Irish ancestry, I’ve let you down.

Boss, boss, boss. They’re all your bosses. Don’t fuck them, idiot.

Nope. I’m going to turn over a new leaf. I won’t even know what a penis is, let alone be a person who thinks about the ones in the other room.

The steam stops, but cold-ass water comes pouring down from above. I shriek, jumping back before immediately tapping another, barely looking at what I hit. Christmas music begins to blare. You’ve got to be kidding me. Now I’m stabbing the button, trying to make it stop. But “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” gets louder and louder. “What the fuck. Turn off!” I yell, trying not to freeze to death while smacking the whole damn display. I’m mid-panic when a deep bass reverberates over the music. “Samantha.” Samantha? That’s me. Oh my god, that’s Cole.

“Oww,” I grunt, steadying my hand against the wall display, miraculously turning off the music and the water. I don’t know when he turned around, but I do know that Cole is rushing toward me as I stand naked, holding my nose. He jerks me forward, tugging my hand from my face. “Hold this. Let me see.” “Hold what? Why are you here? I’m naked,” I say in one big run-on sentence. I’m gripping something soft, so I look down. “I have a towel.” “You do. Now stop moving and talking. I need to see if you’re bleeding.” I do, in fact, stop talking as I stand there being evaluated because my face hurts, I’m still drunk, and Cole is standing in front of me while I’m only wearing a towel.

Jesus, this is a new low for my libido. In the face of injury, she literally pushes through like a crack whore to a pipe. Yeah, she definitely wants him to lay some pipe. For fuck’s sake. Why didn’t I knock myself out? Cole’s eyes meet mine.

“Because I didn’t listen to the directions.”

“Waterfalls or showerhead, sweetheart?” Oh, that look. Cole knows exactly what he’s asking. And I’m going to follow him right to where he’s leading. “Showerhead,” I say unabashedly because the fucking hussy didn’t get knocked out of me.

Casually, I turn around, acting like I’m just going to take a shower…acting for whom? I don’t fucking know because I’m alone.

“Fuck me. Eat me. Oh my god.” My voice is raw, husky, and full of desire. I’m so close…I just need…I need… Like a siren’s call, his face appears so clear in my mind. He walks into the room, rolling up those shirtsleeves. Watching me with his friends. With a look of approval, the one I’m already obsessed with, written all over his face. “Tell me I’m a good girl, Cole. Say it,” I moan, too loudly, picturing how he mouthed it earlier tonight before dinner.

I lean down, picking up the showerhead after somehow turning it off, whispering, “I love you,” to it. Chuckling as I add, “The guys are wrong. You’re the real MVP.”

Basic skills, guys—cooking, having towels in the bathroom, sheesh. What does Alec do, air dry? I smirk because the thought isn’t awful. But I’m not doing the same, so I dry myself with a small amount of dry section before wrapping it around me and opening the door. The moment I do, I freeze. Because sitting on my bed is Cole. The Cole who wasn’t supposed to be here anymore. The Cole who left me all hot and bothered. The fucking Cole I just moaned to call me a good girl. He’s staring at me, towel over one knee, forearm rested on the other. Cole closes and flexes his fist, and I swear my eyes fixate on the veins bulging from his arm. “What are you still doing here?” I say, hushed, swallowing after. Please say you didn’t hear. I’ll die. Suddenly I’m feeling very, very sober. Fear of dying from embarrassment has a way of doing that. He glances at the towel on his knee. “You needed a new one.”

“Thank you?” “Now you remember your manners?” What? His hand bunches the cotton material in the front of the towel before roughly tugging me forward, forcing me to grab the top so I’m not exposed. Cole bends down as I stare up. Holy shit. Our lips come so close that I don’t even register the rest of the world. Consequences, what are those? Bad choices? Sign me up. “You forgot to say please, Samantha.” The deep gravel in his voice makes me shiver. “‘Tell me I’m a good girl’…Please. Now, use your words, baby, and ask me nicely.”