Taboo & Tinsel: A Forbidden Holiday Romance Novella

Staying in a winter wonderland for Christmas sounds like the perfect escape…

…until it turns into an epic disaster of mistletoe and madness.

A one-night fling with a sexy and skilled older man is the perfect beginning, but reality soon crashes down on me when my fling turns out to be my step-uncle. A retired, professional football player who has a serious case of the bah-humbugs…and just so happens to be a family rival.

Things go from bad to worse when a winter storm ruins any chances of my family joining me at the picturesque inn. Now I’m stuck with my step-uncle and our forbidden tension that burns as bright as the star on top of the family Christmas tree.

**If your Hallmark movies turned morally grey, this quick read would be the result!

Tropes: one-night stand, grumpy vs sunshine, age gap, forced proximity, forbidden love

CHAPTER ONE

The city lights of Portland reflect off the falling snow, making the flakes glitter as they fall to the icy sidewalk. Red bows adorn tall lampposts. All the shop windows boast some sort of Christmas cheer. Green holly. Painted white snow. Reindeer and Santa. My skin warms underneath my big winter jacket as I search out the pub I Googled only ten minutes prior. It had the best reviews within walking distance of my airport hotel, and after dealing with my heavy course load over the last few months, I deserve a drink. Trust me.

I want to decompress, spend an hour doing no thinking whatsoever. Just enjoy some good food and letting the bite of alcohol dull my mind. It’s a weird notion, especially since I’m in my second year of grad school, but sometimes thinking is overrated. Putting the past semester behind me is long overdue, and at least for tonight, I also refuse to think about the possible stress of the upcoming holiday. Tonight is just for me. Tomorrow is for future Lili’s problems, like worrying about her mother meeting an estranged stepbrother for the first time.

Spotting the lit sign up ahead for my destination, I blink snowflakes off my lashes and leave behind the upcoming uncertainty. The heavy wood door to McCallister’s groans as I pull it open. According to the 4.4 star rating, this place boasts the best pub food in Portland, something I desperately need after spending the day on planes and in airports with overpriced bottled water and packaged chips.

The smell of fermented beer and good cooking waft around me as I step inside. The toasty interior is like a gentle hug on this cold night. Dim lights and Irish music pouring out of speakers only add to the ambiance. I unwind my scarf from around my neck as I peer around for a spot to sit. The pub is pretty busy for a Wednesday night. A bartender works fast and cheerfully behind a big, cherry wood bar. He grins as I take a seat at an empty stool. “Food or drink?” he asks, moving his stare to fill a pint glass of ale for another customer, the top frothing nicely.

“Both,” I answer as I shed my coat and hang it on the back of the stool. Friendly chatter drifts above the music, and before long I have a half-drank Guinness in front of me, the last remaining spoonfuls of a delicious beef stew, and the eye of a gorgeous stranger who’s been flirting with me since he sat down.

I forgot what this feels like. The playful banter. The flirting. The squeeze in my stomach as our gazes connect. My nose has been stuck in a book for too long.

It doesn’t hurt that this guy is positively electrifying and handsome. He’s older than me for sure but it’s in more the rugged manliness that piques my attention. His disheveled beard has hints of gray but youthful green eyes spark and burn bright as we talk. A t-shirt and a well-used ballcap top off his appearance which is so different from the guys back on campus. Rough hands wrap around shot after shot as he throws them back. As soon as he finishes one, another appears like magic, and I’m certain he and the bartender have done this before.

Mr. Gorgeous uses his pinky to move a shot into my line of sight. “Now that you’ve had some food in your belly, take a shot with me.”

His deep voice makes my face heat. The tension around us snaps whenever we lock gazes, and the looks he keeps giving me makes me think he feels it too.

He must mistake my momentary silence for indecision because he quickly ribs me. “Come on, don’t let an old man drink alone.”

I lift a brow. “Old man? Is that what you are?”

His gaze drops, taking me in. “Compared to you.” He lingers a little too long on the sparse cleavage I’m showing. It makes me want to go back to the hotel and pull on a revealing shirt to wear tonight, just so his stare would stay longer. “Age comes with some benefits though,” he adds, meeting my eyes again.

I lift the shot, and he clinks the one in his hand to mine. Throwing it back, I try not to react to the burning liquid coating my throat. When the sensation dies down, I ask, “How’s that?”

He holds my gaze. “Experience.”

The rough texture in his voice has me clenching my thighs. Heat swamps the sensitive area between my legs, a welcome, yet foreign reaction. “Is that so?” I tease, relishing in the feelings just his voice, just this chat is giving me. I have no time to flirt back at school. No time to think about anything other than finishing my degree. If I had a need, I brought out my trusty vibrator before bed and took care of it within a few minutes as if it was a task like doing weekly laundry.

He leans over, his hand coming to rest on my hip while the tips of his fingers edge just under my shirt. As soon as he makes contact with my bare skin, a jolt shoots through me. My breathing grows heavy, and my nipples peak embarrassingly. How long had it been since I’d been touched?

The delicious undertow my body takes almost makes me miss his gruff whisper. “You could find out.”

From habit, my mind starts to make plans. If I say yes, where would we do it? What would it be like? Could I—?

No. Tonight is for me, I remind myself. I don’t need to think about anything beyond my initial desires. I bite my lip, trying to steady my breaths before I answer, “I’d like to take you up on that.”

He squeezes my hip, moving me into him ever so slightly. “Thank fuck, baby girl. I’ve been staring at these hips all night, and I want them straddled over my face.”

I suck in a breath, the heat from before now molten as my panties grow wet with an urgent need.

He pulls back, green eyes flashing as he lifts his hand, signaling for another round of shots. “You need some liquid courage, I bet.”

“Who says?” I challenge, gaze dropping to his lips. I watch as he throws back another shot left by the bartender and then drag my stare away from him for long enough to ask for the check.

The bartender shakes his head, gesturing toward my handsome stranger who only scoots another shot in front of me with a wicked grin. “Trust me. I’m older and wiser.”

Standing, I wrap my fingers around the shot glass and devour it in a single swallow.

I don’t need courage. Far from it. What I need is this man’s dangerous mouth on my pussy before I think about all the reasons why I shouldn’t.