Aaron

Sweet little Julia is up to something, I can just tell. She’s smiling too much, and she’s looking at me with this mischievous expression that leaves me just a bit concerned.

Julia doesn’t know how to flirt, and I thank God for that, because if she ever really came on to me, she would have me wrapped around her little finger in an instant. Hell, I’d be happy about it.

Her father, on the other hand, would probably drive me out of the church like I fucked the Virgin Mary. And besides, there’s one thing about me that he’s right about: I don’t deserve someone as pure and hot and full of life as Julia. If she thinks that I do, she’s selling herself short.

But a guy can dream, right? As long as I remember that all I’m gonna be doing is dreaming.

We make it to one in the afternoon before we run into our first glitch, which is amazing given the huge amount of food we have to sort and pass out in a short time. But when things finally go wrong, they do it in a big way.

“What do you mean, we’ve lost track? How much food got loaded downstairs?” Poor Reverend Alderson is managing to keep his voice quiet, but his eyes show that he’s ready to tear out his own hair. Poor guy. He might have a stick up his ass, but he doesn’t deserve stress in return for his kindness.

Julia and I exchange glances and she gives me a nod. We both hover around while the crisis unfolds, ready to step in.

The bearer of bad news is Tomxmy, a kid who works at the gas station. He’s a little bear of a guy in Coke-bottle glasses, who squirms at the note of desperation in the Reverend’s voice. “Um, well...enough that we’re having trouble opening the doors.”

“But we haven’t even finished unloading the truck...?” He looks into the back of the delivery truck, from which boxes are still coming out, and over at all the volunteers’ cars, which have all done at least three trips around the county and are loaded to the gills again. “How did they fit it all? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this is almost too much of a good thing!”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Julia speaks up, walking over and offering to take his laptop. “I’ll go down to the storeroom and tally things up. I’ll just need some help getting the door open.”

He relinquishes the laptop. “You’re sure? I have no idea what it’s like down there right now—it might be a total mess.”

“I’ll manage.” She looks over at me. “C’mon, I may need some help shuffling some of the stacks of boxes around. The truck’s almost empty. Everyone else can take it from here.”

I nod and trail her inside, trying not to walk too close. Too much of that, and I know I’ll be in trouble again. I can’t be of use with the food distribution if I’m stumbling around with boner-brain.

“You know, I know it’s stressing Dad, but having so much donated food that we lose track of it all is a pretty good inconvenience.” We head through the kitchen and into the hallway, which is narrow and floored with peeling linoleum. I mentally add that to my repair list.

I nod agreement as we head for the freight elevator at the end of the hall. Too many times, especially these days, food drives scratch along on almost nothing. “You said it. But directing the whole event still has to be stressful for him.”

“Always. He’s too rigid and stuck in routines for his own good—big changes always stress him out.” She stops in front of the elevator and I pull the lever, unlatching the pull-down safety gate and shoving it upward. She ducks in ahead of me. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” There’s that smile I can’t fight again.

The elevator’s roomy and dim, with a high ceiling. There’s an odd, spicy green smell hanging around the air in the place. It’s a little familiar, but I can’t place it. Has someone donated a bunch of mustard greens to go with the other stuff in the fridges downstairs?

On her way in, Julia pauses for just a moment, and I hear her let out a little laugh before she continues inside, as if she’s just thought of something—or noticed something. I step in after her and close the gate. “So,” she says suddenly as I’m reaching to throw the lever and send us down, “you know all that mistletoe Dad says he removed from the church?”

I pause, the naughty tone in her voice startling me, and look back at her. “Yeah?”

She reaches past me and pulls the lever, closing the door on us and sending the elevator rumbling slowly downward. “He missed a sprig.”

I look down at her and see her wide grin as she steps closer...and then look up, straight at a bundle of mistletoe hanging right above me. Crap.

I freeze, knowing what is about to happen and almost dreading it, knowing as well that I can’t stop her—I don’t want to. She presses her body into me, the pleasure of it mixing with a searing hunger as I fight not to grab hold of her. Her lips brush against mine and her arms slip around my neck as she clings to me.

She kisses me with a mix of sensuality and tenderness that melts my heart and brings my cock fully awake in seconds. Aching, I groan against her mouth, feeling my whole body respond involuntarily while my free will floats away on a cloud of bliss.

Holy shit. Oh my God. I’m in trouble.

I don’t care.

Why did I ever hold back from kissing her? I have never felt anything so right in my life. It’s sweeter than my first breath of free air.

I pull her closer, feeling her squirm against me, her full breasts rubbing against my chest through her layers of clothing while her tongue teases its way into my mouth. I can hear the low, starved groans vibrating through my throat as I respond, a wave of sensual hunger running from my toes to the tip of my head.

I have to have her. Now. Right now.

Wait, what am I doing? I gently pull away, and she makes a small, disappointed noise in her throat.

When I finally get control of myself, I stare down at her in amazement. “Julia...what are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do for more than a year,” she replies with a wicked grin.

“Baby, we really shouldn’t—” I start, and she simply moves closer, laying a slim, warm finger against my lips.

“Shhhh.”

I’m doomed.

The elevator rattles to a stop, and we’re kissing again, and we stand there wrapped up in each other for so long that I lose track of why we’re down here. She’s so soft, so warm...so fragrant. So perfect.

I try to be gentle. But again, she’s not making it easy. She presses into me with the eager and slightly clumsy enthusiasm of someone totally new to kissing. The realization that she probably is—that I might be the first to ever feel her this way—only turns me on even more.

But then, before either of us can catch our breath or say anything about what has just happened, there’s a heavy clunk, and the elevator starts rising again. What?

The hairs on the back of my neck start prickling and I let her go, breathing hard, moving back against the wall of the elevator while she wipes her mouth and steps back as well. Someone’s called the elevator and will be joining us in a moment.

The outer door rumbles up as we come to a stop, and my heart sinks into my boots. The Reverend’s standing there, scowling at us both.