Page 50 of Lace 'em Up

That sounded like an awfully casual hmm, considering the predicament we’re currently in.

One that’s my fault.

I sigh, but it’s not just because it’s my fault. It’s also because…his head is still dropping and now his lips are brushing the top of my ear.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “She’ll go on to visit one of my siblings soon and I’ll slip in the news of our ‘breakup’ when she’s suitably distracted.” His tongue flicks out and I shiver, my body melting against his. “The heartbreak alone will buy me a reprieve long enough that I’ll owe you.”

Somehow, I don’t think that’s possible.

“And in the meantime…” He trails off, body surrounding mine, those lips moving, drifting down to my earlobe, tongue flicking out to taste me.

“Oh,” I murmur, head falling back, giving him access to my throat.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he mutters against my skin.

“King.” My hands drop to his shoulders and I don’t know if I’m trying to push him away…

Or holding on for dear life before I beg him to use my body any way he wants.

Hot breath raises goose bumps on my nape, my arms. “And you smell like sugar and spice and Everything cookies.”

My mouth turns up, nails kneading into his flesh, and I say, “You smell good too.”

He lifts his head, eyes dancing. “Who said I said you smell good?”

I gasp in mock outrage, narrow my eyes. “How dare you?—?”

And that’s when he dips his head, lips coming over mine.

More than a brush this time—they’re firm and confident, and paired with his palms on my body, his hips pressing me back into the counter, his tongue slipping into my mouth to tangle with mine, it’s oh so good.

I moan softly, hands going to his head, tangling in the strands of his hair, and?—

It’s a match into gasoline.

Explosion.

Not thinking.

Just feeling.

Needing. Wanting.

His hand comes beneath the hem of my T-shirt and I arch back, breaking the kiss, his name on my lips.

A growl.

His mouth finding mine again?—

“I’m just going to grab another one of those cookies before I head off to bed—oh!”

We freeze, lungs heaving, mouths a hairsbreadth apart.

I manage to tear my gaze from King’s molten blue one, see that Stella is grimacing as she tries to creep out of the room.

Then my eyes go back to King’s.

He sighs, looks so put out that I can’t help but giggle.

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