“Oh, I am,” I grin. “Madly in love with you.”
She groans at the line, but her hand reaches out to hook in the waistband of my trousers anyway, tugging me toward her. I let her pull me in until our foreheads touch, her breath ghosting over my lips.
“Let’s not go downstairs just yet,” she whispers.
And so we don’t.
We stay in our little pocket of time, in this borrowed room, dressed like two characters from a fairytale gone a little wrong—her hair wild down her back, my hat crooked on my head, and something stronger than gravity holding us in place.
Her fingers hook the collar of my coat, tugging me closer until there’s no space left between us. Her lips hover near mine, her breath warm, her voice a soft, sinful whisper.
“Kiss me.”
It’s not a question.
It’s a command.
And God help me, I obey.
I crash my mouth onto hers with everything I’ve been holding back. It’s not sweet. It’s not careful. It’s heat and hunger that explodes the second our lips meet. She opens to me instantly, hands sliding into my hair, clutching tight like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
I back her against the vanity, hands roaming the curves I love, the press of her body igniting every nerve I have. She moans into my mouth, hips rolling against mine, and fuck—if we weren’t dressed for a party, I’d already have her bent over this damn table.
She tilts her head, deepening the kiss, and I lose myself completely in the taste of her, the feel of her, the desperate sounds she makes that light me up from the inside out.
And just when I’m about to lift her onto the counter and make Wonderland my goddamn playground—
The door flies open.
“—Well, shit,” Trey groans from the doorway. “Now I got a semi looking at my sister.”
I freeze, forehead pressed to Mac’s, eyes screwed shut as she lets out a shocked laugh. My jaw clenches.
“If you guys bang later,” Trey adds casually, “can I watch? I’ve always wanted to see the Mad Hatter dive down Alice’s rabbit hole.”
“You’re disgusting,” Mac says through her laughter, pushing lightly at my chest, cheeks flushed for all the right reasons.
I’m not laughing.
Not even a little bit.
If it wasn’t for that beautiful laugh of hers, the one that tells me she’s not mortified—just amused—I’d throttle the little bastard right here in this room.
Instead, I glare at him, voice low and threatening. “Trey…”
Trey just smirks, tugging at the oversized parrot strapped to his shoulder.
“What? Oh. Check this out.” He waves a hand awkwardly in front of the thing, and a soft whir of tiny motors kicks in. The parrot jerks to life, followed by a voice—clearly Trey, doing his best parrot impersonation.
“Raawk! Polly want some good dicking!” It squarks.
He winces. “Wait, shit—It was supposed to say something else. Ah, whatever… It works.”
Muttering something about rum, online purchases, and bad decisions, he strolls off like a man entirely too proud of his talking bird sex toy.
I turn back to Mac, who’s biting her lip, still breathless, still glowing.
“You okay?” I murmur.
