Page 48 of Peppermint Bark

He tilted his head and I used the opportunity to slip my tongue between his lips, which he eagerly parted to welcome me. I quickly brushed his tongue then retreated, and when his chased after mine greedily, I laughed softly. I smiled against his mouth and when I felt his lips curl up in reaction, I wanted to pull away, to finally get a glimpse of that elusive smile …

But that desire was outpaced by the need to be closer. When I touched my toe to his shin, he winced at the cold before wrapping his top leg over mine and pulling me into his warmth. My hand at his neck tugged him closer and he leaned forward for a firm kiss, flattening his palm over my ribs to close the gap between our bodies. I reacted eagerly, my nipples skimming his chest.

“Alex,” I moaned, still disbelieving that he was here in my bed. I lifted my hand from his neck and met his palm on my ribs, sliding it up to rest over the swell of my breast. Through my yoga shirt, his thumb flicked my pebbled nipple and my back arched into his hand, pressing my hips forward into his, feeling his firm erection through his boxers. When he groaned at the contact, I shifted my hips again, opening my eyes to watch his head tilt back, his mouth panting.

My hand returned to his cheek and his eyes opened, looking wild. “Shit, Gracie,” he breathed, squeezing my nipple between his nimble fingertips, causing my hips to buck into his. “You’re so fucking hot, it’s unbelievable.”

Then he was kissing along my jaw. I tilted my head back to give him access to my neck and after lingering on my pulse point, he shifted down to kiss along my collarbone, trailing the hem of my tank top.

Annoyed at the built-in bra blocking his path, I pulled the strap down to reveal my breast. He took it as a welcome invitation to palm the mound while his mouth licked and sucked my nipple, his moans sending vibrations straight to my core. I arched into his warm touch, wrapping my hand around the back of his head as my whole body thrummed with desire.

My pulse beat in my ears, breathing between desperate sweeps of his tongue, gripping his shoulders, and holding his head in place at my chest. The room filled with my whimpers, ringing with the melodious chirping of —

“Shit,” I breathed, releasing my palm from his hair as I turned to the kitchen when the oven timer insistently beeped.

He removed his lips from my breast with a coy grin. “Did you just swear?”

“The eggs are going to burn,” I moaned, ignoring his teasing.

“Fuck the eggs,” he said against the sensitive skin of my chest as he wrapped his mouth back around my breast and flicked his tongue over my nipple.

“We have to eat before class,” I moaned, nearly breathless.

He licked along my skin and murmured, “I’ll do intermittent fasting today.”

I laughed and tugged his hair slightly to pull him back, then raised the strap of my shirt back up my shoulder and slid out from under the covers.“Well, I have to eat before teaching. So I guess I get all your huevos rancheros,"

“Don’t you dare,” he said, sitting up and leaning against the bed’s headboard.

I felt his eyes on me as I walked to the kitchen. “You coming?”

“I need a minute … or a cold shower.” He gestured to the blanket over his lap

When I bent over to pull the dish out of the oven, he corrected, “Nope, it’s definitely going to have to be a cold shower.”

“Make it quick, I need to leave in 20 minutes for yoga class. Are you coming?”

He arched a brow. “If I come, can we pick up where we left off afterwards?”

My cheeks flushed at the sexy look on his face, and I suddenly felt shy as I nodded. He brought the flat of his hand to press down over the blankets, and said, “If you keep looking so sweet, then the cold shower might not be enough.”

“Towels are under the sink,” I said as I took my first bite of eggs made from the leftover burritos he’d brought the previous night.

When he stood, his boxers strained with his erection as he stretched his arms overhead, then paused briefly for a deep laugh.

When I looked alarm and wiped my mouth in case he was laughing at crumbs, he looked me over, head to toe. “I don’t think I’ve been this worked up from making out with a beautiful girl since I was in high school. This town does weird things to me.”

I tried not to think of his visit to my apartment as a high schooler, when he’d had unmemorable sex with a woman whose name he couldn’t remember. But before I could wonder if soon I’d be another forgotten notch on his bedpost, he veered off his path to the bathroom, bent to kiss me on the cheek, and murmured, “You make me feel young, Gracie.”

At the bottom of the stairs, we both reached for the keys to the truck. I'd let him drive it last night, the first person to sit behind the wheel and put it into gear in eight years … but that didn't mean —

"Please? I haven't driven a manual transmission in years, I forgot how much I love it."

I imagined the last time he'd driven stick, probably a convertible down the Pacific Coast Highway with the wind in his hair and a gorgeous redhead next to him wearing oversized sunglasses and a glamorous scarf like a Hollywood icon.

It felt strange that he was excited about driving my Silverado … but his eyes held such boyish excitement that I let him take the keys.

A light flurry of snow dotted the window as he reversed out of the driveway, giving me time to ogle his aunt's dreamy Victorian house. I let out a wistful sigh at its beauty before I asked, “So how many questions do you have?”