Misadventures with my Billionaire Boss

I made it to the party just before the gift exchange, taking extra time to get my car warmed up and then even longer driving. It had snowed four inches during the day with a chance of a few more overnight. It was quiet, peaceful and beautiful seeing all the colorful lights twinkling on the houses and yards. There was no question of a white Christmas. At the rate it was snowing, it might be a white Easter, too.
My friend Cindy, whom I'd worked with for the past six months, had decorated for the season, garlands of greens and holly with festive red ribbon covered every available surface. A large buffet was set on the dining room table, platters of meats and cheeses, piles of cookies in various seasonal shapes like a sleigh and a Menorah. A large Crock-Pot sat in the center with little smoked hot dogs in a sauce bubbling away. Red candles were lit on the mantle in the family room, a large Christmas tree filled a corner with many presents tucked beneath. Those were for Cindy and her family—husband Rob and eight-year-old son Charlie—on the big day. The ones for the gift exchange were on the other side of the room, a disorderly pile on the carpet. Many were odd shaped, big, small, all interestingly wrapped.
Standing in my argyle socks—everyone left their winter boots by the front door—I added my small box to the top of the heap. Goldie had done a good job with the wrapping. Bright red foil paper with a white satin ribbon. Perfectly festive and didn't scream porn. I had absolutely no idea what was in the box. I'd been tempted to open it since I'd picked it up yesterday, but I trusted Goldie, especially when it came to an all-ages party. What could be in there? She knew it had to be PG-13 or even PG. Not much in an adult store could have that rating.
By the time Cindy handed me a glass of white wine, I hadn't come up with any ideas. The gift was about half the size of a shoe box and wasn't too heavy. I even tried shaking it. No luck. I, like everyone else, would have to wait and see. Thankfully, the gifts were anonymous. No one would know it—whatever it was—came from me.
By the time we'd piled around the family room on couches, chairs pulled from the kitchen and a number of us comfortably seated on the carpeted floor for the start of the white elephant gift opening, I had just started my second glass of wine. Usually I had no problems with just two glasses, but all of a sudden I felt lightheaded, hot all over and my stomach felt all fluttery as if butterflies, no maybe a cave full of bats, were trying to escape.
Or, it could have been from the surprise at seeing Sam—shit, Sam!—walk in with Cindy, chatting about something before finding spots around the room for themselves.
Oh, he looked good. Damned good. Just as I'd remembered, although his light hair was a little longer. My fingers twitched at the memory of how silky soft it had felt as I’d tugged and pulled on it. He was tall, over six feet, broad shoulders beneath a dark button-up shirt. Strong jaw, blue eyes that somehow had the ability to not only look at me, but see me. His nose had a slight bump in it. Character, I thought, from some youthful roughhousing incident. He'd told me he played hockey on an adult recreational league at the fairgrounds, so it could have occurred more recently. However it had happened, it made him look very sexy.
Everything about him screamed sexy, as if testosterone seeped from his pores. I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself.