4. Michael

MICHAEL

“ I ’d like that.” The feminine voice spears into my chest, and my eyes snap up.

Holy holiday heaven.

Standing before me is a lush-as-fuck angel with evergreen eyes, berry-red lips, and a body I’d write to Santa for.

Her hand is retracting as though she’d given up reaching for me. Before I can consider the consequences, I dart my own hand out, clasping her palm in mine. And the second we touch, a volt of awareness rockets down my spine.

Startled by my sudden movement, she lets out a small gasp, and I swear I feel her inhale deep in my balls.

“What’s your name?” I growl, tightening my grip.

Joey clears his throat next to me. I’m sure he already said her name, but I wasn’t listening. That last contestant was trying to openly flirt, and it annoyed the shit out of me. So I came over here with my head down and my inner voice grumbling, and I regret every second I’ve wasted not looking at this wonderful woman. But I don’t want to hear Joey tell me her name. I want to hear it from her mesmerizing lips.

I flex my fingers and her mouth pops open.

“I’m Alice.”

Her whispered voice is all the confirmation I need. This woman is mine, and I’m gonna find a way to keep her.