Alisha was touched that he'd actually gone to have the tests run. She didn't bother reading it. Instead she tossed it over her shoulder and kissed him forcefully, setting her fingers to work on the buttons of his shirt.
"Jew on Jew action is about to get even hotter, isn't it, Larrington?" he asked in a cocky tone when her lips slid over the exposed skin on his chest.
She lifted her head and gave him a kittenish smile. "Mmm hmm," she purred.
"I love Hanukkah," he told her, flipping them quickly over and covering her body with his.
Chapter 16
"What in God's name are we doing?" Adam asked dryly as Russell tugged him behind a Christmas ornament display.
"Spying on Alisha," was Russell's reply. He peered around the corner to get a bead on his brunette friend as she perused the makeup counter and laughed into her cell phone.
Adam followed Russell's gaze and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Is this about your suspicions that she and Big are sleeping together?"
"Does the word duh mean anything to you? Ooh, she's on the move—let's go!" He put on his big Prada sunglasses, grabbed Adam's arm, and pulled him along.
"You look ridiculous," Adam told him.
"One does not look ridiculous in Prada," Russell told him, flipping his scarf around his neck before stealthily weaving his way through the throng of Christmas shoppers.
Having gotten used to this type of crazy behavior ages ago, Adam just rolled his eyes and followed along, grateful for the shopping reprieve. "What information are you hoping to glean from your Sydney Bristow-esque recon mission? Alisha's by herself," he said slowly.
Russell halted his steps and authoritatively pointed to the sign above the escalator that read Lingerie 4th Floor.
"Uh-uh, no!" Adam vehemently shook his head. "I'm not going to go up to the lingerie floor and stalk around. People will think I'm a pervert."
"Pretend you're shopping for your girlfriend," Russell said in a must-I-think-of-everything tone and stepped onto the escalator.
Adam frowned and was tempted to just let Russell fly solo, but his only other option was to continue Christmas shopping which, frankly, made him want to cut a bitch. So with another sigh and a shake of his head, he hopped onto the escalator that led them upstairs to Pantyland. "You do realize that she's probably just shopping for flannel pajamas or something, right? That you have no irrefutable proof to this theory of yours?" he asked, feeling his cheeks heat the moment they reached the fourth floor. "Seriously, Hummel, take off your sunglasses. Security is probably going to come after us."
"Relax! They've got shoplifters to worry about. Besides, it's Christmastime and there are other men picking out gifts." He strolled down an aisle, craning his head to find Alisha.
"If you're going to spy, you should maybe be a little less conspicuous," he muttered.
"Excuse me?" Russell asked drolly, fixing him with a pointed look.
"Just sayin'," Adam shrugged. "I don't think that espionage is your forte."
"Hmph," he sniffed, folding his arms across his chest. He slowly removed his sunglasses and stared into blue eyes. "Is that so?"
Adam's lips twitched. "Yes."
"Well, then, please tell me why Alisha's at three o'clock decidedly not going for flannel pajamas as you so lamely suggested on the escalator ride, but instead considering the Naughtyor Naughtier display?"
He peered around his boyfriend and saw Alisha scrutinizing a red lace number with a smile on her face. "Yeah, okay—that's not the kind of stuff you wear alone," he conceded, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Why yes, I accept your apology," Russell sneered before glancing over his shoulder. "Crap, I lost her."
Adam snorted and pointed to the dressing room that Alisha was about to enter. "Over there, Maxwell Smart."
"Come on!" Russell barked, weaving his way through the racks.
"Now I know you've lost your damn mind; there is no way I'm going in there with you."
Russell waved off this notion and grabbed his hand, tugging him into the dressing room behind him. He walked along the row of curtained partitions, looking at the feet of every occupant and stopped when he spotted Alisha's shoes. Pulling back the curtain, he poked his head inside. "Hi, Delicious!"
Alisha jumped and screamed, frantically trying to cover up her lingerie-clad body with her discarded sweater. "Russell!" she heatedly snapped. "You scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing?"
He eyed her slowly up and down. "I think the better question is who the hell are you doing?"
Her eyes went wide. "I have no idea what you're talking about it," she supplied weakly, looking past him into the hall. "Is that—Adam?"
"Hi, Lisha," Adam said, embarrassment flushing over his handsome face.
Russell snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Don't change the subject. Why are you in here trying on scandalously sexy lingerie if it's not for someone?"
Alisha glanced down at her satin and lace covered body and knew she truly didn't have a leg to stand on. But that didn't mean she wasn't willing to hop frantically around the truth. "It's a gift," she told him smoothly.
His smile was lightning quick and wicked. "Clearly."
"For Maggie."
Russell laughed evilly. "Oh, sweetie, please. You and Maggie don't have that kind of relationship," he teased.
Alisha rolled her eyes. "I was trying it on to see how it fits. We're close to the same size."
"Lie and lie," he said, bored. Alisha's lips fell into a frown and he continued. "You and Maggie don't have the same body type and you refuse to pick out other people's sex clothes. You said that very thing when we were shopping for Cristina's bachelorette party."
Dammit! His mind was like a steel trap. "Russell, you're really invading my privacy here. Seriously," she whined, gesturing to her state of undress.
"Alisha, I'm interested in his goodies, not yours," he said, gesturing to Adam, ignoring his boyfriend's muttered Oh, sweet Jesus. "Who's this gift really for? Anyone I know?"
"None of your business," Alisha clipped, feeling that her bubble was on the verge of completely bursting.
He tapped a
