Page 149 of A Sin So Pure

I think it pouts as I wave it towards the bedroom door, but before I can open it, the sprite disappears in shadow with an outraged squeak.

Pulling the warm plate up to my nose, I inhale the decadent scent of cinnamon, sugar, and vanilla frosting.

Home.

That’s what it smells like.

I place the tray on the coffee table before the fireplace with care, then crawl back into bed.

Nora’s chest rises and falls with easy breaths; I nestle into her side, and she instinctively shifts to bring me closer, my curves slotting into place next to hers. I give her butterfly kisses in the crook of her neck before my lips double back and litter her skin with real ones—little pecks that have her stirring from her slumber.

“It’s time to get up,” I hum.

Nora’s brows knit together, and her nose scrunches up as she groans, coming alive for the morning.

My hand snakes around her waist and tickles her side which has her eyes snapping open. Nora quickly snatches my hand and pulls me half on top of her.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” Her voice is raspy and low.

“And you’re a terrible morning person,” I quip, leaning forward to brush my nose up against hers, back and forth. “Happy Solstice.”

Nora hums, but it sounds sad. “Happy Solstice.”

I lean forward, planting a lazy kiss on her lips. Immediately, I’m hit with the stale taste of liquor.

“You taste like day-old bourbon,” I say. Pulling back so I can see her face fully, I quirk a brow. “Were you drinking last night?”

Nora yawns. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” I brush a stray lock of black hair from her forehead and behind her ear. “Why didn’t you wake me? I would have stayed up with you, or at least tried to help get you tired enough to pass out.”

She doesn’t run with the innuendo like I hoped she would. Instead, Nora’s head drops back onto the pillow and her eyes flutter closed.

“You sleep too peacefully,” she says, pulling in another deep yawn. “I didn’t want to ruin that.”

I shift and straddle her, thighs bracketing her hips. My hands frame her head and my hair hangs in a sheet around us.

“It’s not ruining anything,” I say. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, finally smiling up at me, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Tired.”

I twist my lips, holding back any other questions—Nora knows I want her to share her burdens with me. I have to trust her to do that in her own time, even if it’s not as fast as I’d hope.

“That is an easy problem to fix. The sprites already dropped off a pot of liquid energy for you at my request.”

“Hmm, they really do like you.”

“I have my charms.” I peck her forehead, then her nose, then her lips, avoiding the way they follow me when I pull back. “C’mon. Leo and Josie will be over soon.”

Nora groans as I hop off the bed and I laugh.

Could every Solstice morning be this?I wonder with childlike hope.

An hour later, the four of us are huddled around the fireplace with bellies full of dough and espresso. Leo lounges across the couch, legs propped over Josie’s lap; Nora takes up the armchair, and I sit on the floor between her legs, leaning back against her. We’re all still in our pajamas, a colorful array of striped cotton and lace-lined silk.

The rain has gotten heavier, so we shut the window, but it has still caused the temperature to drop enough to warrant a fire.

I’m not complaining.

---