What?

And then she moved her head around the room. “Damon?” she called out, making everyone turn their heads in my direction.

“I worked very hard,” she told me. “I hope you like it. You know how much I love Christmas.”

Christmas? The village she wanted out of the basement when she was in high school sprung to mind, and I remembered that she decorated for the holiday the day after Halloween. Which would be soon.

My eyes didn’t leave her as I took a step closer and placed my glass on a tray as the server passed.

She wouldn’t dance for me. Not willingly anyway.

Finding her mark already placed on the dance floor, she settled into a traditional pose, one foot turned out, the other laying behind her, and her arms positioned down, forming a circle.

She never started like that. She always came in already moving, natural and unsophisticated. That was how she danced. Uncivilized. It was what I loved.

The music started, a slow, jazzy guitar sound, the beats all poised and separate. With each string, she moved. Controlled, routine, and trite, a new pose for every chord. Arm out, toe out. Arms up, feet moving from one elementary position to the next. There was no flow. It was like a warm-up.

But then the lyrics started, a deep and raw voice coming out of the sound system, and she popped up on her toes, stepping one foot in front of the other, her body all of a sudden coming to life and slinking from one move to the other.

And that’s when the song registered. You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.

But it was a cover—some bluesy, rock variation—sexy, slow, and taunting.

I clenched my jaw.

Her shoulders rolled, one after the other, and her hips swayed to the music, her eyes closing and her neck bending like a seduction.

The drums kicked in, building up the song, and she jerked her body with every beat. Then she threw her head back, moved her arms, spun around, and rolled her head, pulling the pin holding her hair up, and it all came spilling down around her as the music let go and the singer’s voice cried out its raw rendition.

“Whoo-hoo!” Shouts went off around the room as people started to lose control, and I balled my fists, watching her.

That wasn’t fucking ballet. She may as well be taking her clothes off.

“Oh, hell yeah,” some guy cheered.

“Shit, that’s hot,” another one chimed in.

Motherfucker.

She twirled and stepped, moving like sex and running her hands all over her body, the muscles of her toned thighs visible through the sheer skirt all the way up to her crotch. The leotard left nothing to the imagination. Her hair whipped around, falling in her face, and her lips parted, making her look hot and breathless. My cock warmed with the rush of blood, and I wanted nothing more than to give her the spanking she damn-well deserved out in the car right now.

God.

“Whoo!”

Michael’s fucking basketball player buddies were going wild, and the song choice was not lost on me at all.

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.

A Christmas song, indeed. And dedicated to me with its nasty lyrics meant to describe me, too.

Clever.

I shot my eyes over to Michael and Kai standing next to each other, both of them laughing and sharing words, enjoying this too much. Michael looked up at me, grinning like he won something, and Kai followed his gaze, laughing again. Winter publicly slighted me, and everyone was loving it.

She continued dancing, working every inch of the song and feeding off the crowd, and I buttoned my jacket, using every ounce of control to not lose my cool here.

Someone appeared, and I shifted my gaze away from the dance floor as Michael approached.

“You know what?” he said, laughing and patting me on both arms. “I’m feeling generous tonight. Forget what I said. You can stay as long as you like. Eat, drink…” He tossed a glance behind him to the dance floor and then turned back to me. “Because it looks like you have your hands full enough at home. Ouch.”

I steeled myself, letting him walk away, but the air pouring out of my nose was damn near steam.

The song ended, the crowd cheered, and I saw Crane approach my side again as I watched Winter smile on the dance floor and soak up all that love at my expense.

“She needs to be disciplined,” I said.

“Did you have fun?” I asked, hearing the front door close.

Headlights shone through the drapes, and I pushed my chair back and rose from the dining room table, Winter’s dog popping his head up from my lap to let me up.

I knew she’d come home. Good girl.

And at one a.m., no less.

The headlights outside died, and I stalked into the dark foyer, seeing Winter still dressed in her costume from the party. I put my hand on her abdomen and walked into her, forcing her back against the door.

She sucked in a breath, planting her hands on my chest.

“Four hours,” I scolded. “When I think of all the trouble you could’ve gotten up to in four hours…”

After her dance, she disappeared, and it only took Crane a few minutes to find out she’d left with Ethan Belmont, escaping while she could. I sent someone to his house, but no one was home.

Hopefully that was him who just dropped her off, too.

“I’m an adult,” she shot back. “You have no power.”

But just then protests and struggles rang out loud and clear as people entered the house.

“Get your hands off me!” Ethan shouted as Crane dragged him into the room from the side door in the dining room.

I kept my eyes on Winter, though, a smirk curling my lips.

Perfect timing.

A puzzled look crossed her face when she heard his voice. “Wha—what are you doing? Leave him alone.”

I moved my hand to her jaw, holding it in one hand. “I think he touched you,” I told her. “He kept you out after curfew.”

She clutched my hand with both of hers, breathing hard.

“He’s been dying to get you into bed. Judging from the naked pictures of you all over his bedroom wall, anyway.”

“What?” she blurted out. “Stop it, Damon.”

Belmont struggled against Crane’s hold to my right.

“He’s been photographing you,” I told her, reporting what Crane found when he went to Belmont’s house earlier. “I really hope you didn’t know.”

“It wasn’t like that!” he yelled. “I just… Winter, they’re not bad pictures. I promise.”

I kept my stare on her. “They’re bad to me,” I bit out. “She’s in her bathing suit, her shorts, bending over… All without her knowledge from the looks of it, am I right?”

“Spare me your concern about what happens without her knowledge!” he fired back. “You only care when it’s not you taking advantage!”

I ground my teeth together. He wasn’t lying exactly. But still…

“Winter?” he pleaded when she didn’t say anything. “Winter, I just… It’s not as bad as it sounds, okay?”

She shook, still trying to pry my hand off, but not trying as hard as she could. She didn’t know who to trust, and she was struggling to figure out what to do or who to turn to. I just took away one of her only friends.

“They were candids,” he explained. “You were so beautiful, I…” He stopped and then shouted at me, “You broke into my house?”

“Did you mess with her?” I demanded.

When he didn’t answer, I shot in, whispering against Winter’s lips. “If he touched you, I’ll know,” I told her. “Your skin will be red and flushed. Your lips will be swollen. His stink will be all over you.”

She panted against me, and for a moment, I was reminded of our times together back in the day. When I whispered to hide my voice, but she was mine and I was hers, and she was in my lap, driving my car. Did she ever think about that?

I jerked my chin at Crane, and he spun Belmont around and landed a punch right into his stomach. The pipsqueak dropped like a ton of bricks, crumbling to his knees, coughing, and gasping.

“Again,” I said.

But Winter piped up. “No!” she answered quickly. “He didn’t touch me!”

“I didn’t touch her,” he said, wheezing and still coughing. “I would never hurt her.”

I released Winter but kept my body on her, so she didn’t move.

“Get him out of here,” I said.

Crane picked up the kid on the floor, and after a moment, they were gone through the side door again. Headlights streamed through the window, there were shouts, and eventually doors slammed, and two engines drove off. He was probably worried about leaving Winter here with me, but Crane would make sure he got home, even if he had to give his car a little push with the SUV.

“You thought you were so fucking cute tonight with that little performance, didn’t you?” I taunted. “Now, I like it when you misbehave, just do it in private where we both can take some pleasure in your punishment. You make me wait, it gets less fun for you.”

“I hate you.”

I pressed her back into the door again, and she sucked in a breath as my body molded to hers. She wouldn’t look at me as I leaned down, smelling the remnants of her lip gloss still on her mouth. Where had the rest gone? Did he taste it tonight?

Or maybe she wore it because she knew I liked it.

Her little face turned away, so defiant. But she wasn’t moving, either.

“Are you sure you hate me?” I asked in a low voice.

And I slipped a hand between her legs, swiping my fingers over the fabric of her leotard, and feeling what I knew would be there. She was seeping through. She was wet.

I brought my fingers up. “If he didn’t touch you, then is this for me?”

She slammed me in the chest, and I stumbled back, letting her out.

“You’re a monster. You’re no better than him,” she growled. “You played with me. You took advantage of me not being able to see, just like he did, and got exactly what you wanted. You abused me.”