Page 49 of Merry Mischief List
He walks in, bells on his belt jingling with each step. “What the hell amIwearing?” He laughs, eyeing me suspiciously. “Why does it look like you just got a blowjob from the Pillsbury dough boy?”
I follow his gaze down to my pants still covered in flour. “I’ve been busy.”
“Clearly,” he snorts as I shut the door. “You banged the cheerleader.”
“Hey, I never said that,” I say as we walk towards the kitchen.
Turning the corner, I see Andi cleaning the marble counter, flour stuck in her hair. On her tits. Ass. Long legs. That neck.
“Really?” Knox asks with a deep chuckle, glancing back at me. “You can’t tell me this hard ten is powdered up in your kitchen, and you haven’t even considered showing her a good time?”
“Well, hello Santa baby,” Andi says, eyeing Knox, as her warm laugh floods the room. “Since I know he tells you everything anyway, I’m happy to report good times have already been had.”
“Attaboy,” Knox says, tossing his red sack on the counter.
“In fact…” Andi’s amused eyes find mine. “Did you set this up?”
“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows at her.
“Santa suit,” she says, eyes appraising Knox hungrily before flicking back to mine. “Gotta say, I’m surprised this is the list item you chose, especially after the elf incident.”
“What I—” And then it clicks.Blow Santa.“I didnotset this up.”
“Set what up?” Knox asks, eyes bouncing between us.
“Well, I lost a bet last night,” Andi supplies. “Which means Porter gets to choose the next item on the list.”
“Oh,” Knox says, obviously intrigued. “And the item you chose was?”
“Nothing yet,” I say, waving him off. “She’s just poking the bear.”
Andi winks at me then asks, “So what’s in the sack?”
“Special delivery,” he announces, dumping out the contents, and a hundred tiny alcohol bottles bounce across the marble.
“Damn,” Andi says, hopping up on the counter. “Trying to get your elves fucked up?”
“Very funny,” he says, shooting a wink at her. “But no.”
“It’s my annual refill,” I say, smiling from ear to ear.
“Ooh, the plot thickens,” Andi says, eyes bouncing between us. “How’d this little tradition start?”
“When Porter and I started playing together,” Knox says, “we weren’t used to having money. We’d stay in these fancy ass hotels, and after a game, we’d come back hoping to take the edge off.”
“But the hotel minibar prices were criminal,” I chime in. “And Knox and I were done paying twelve bucks for an ounce of cheap bourbon.”
“Yeah, if you’re gonna splurge, it better be the good stuff,” Knox says. “So after a Christmas Eve game in Chicago, we hit up the corner liquor store and bought a fuck ton of mini bottles. Went back to Porter’s room and got absolutely smashed. And thus…” He waves his arm at the countertop. “The tradition was born.”
“Stick it to the minibar,” Andi says. “I love it.”
I pick up a small bottle of Baileys and hand it to her. Knox and I each grab a little Jack Daniel’s.
“Wait, why do you guys get the fun stuff?” Andi asks.
“My apologies,” I say, plucking the bottle from her fingers and replacing it with a bottle of Jack. She gives me a smile of approval, and we twist off the tops.
“To new traditions,” I say, tipping the bottle towards them.
