Page 207 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

Alone.

Wondering how something could be this intense and consuming. How could I be head over heals so quickly?

Lizzy

Seven nights before Christmas

The door swung open.

I'd more or less ran from the elevator to knock on room 1008, out running my thoughts and second guessing. Sending out a prayer that I'd remembered his room number correctly. As soon as my knuckles hit the…whatever hotel doors were made of, there was no turning back. My stomach twisted in knots, then sank to my knees as Will blinked back his surprise. When he smiled, I floated.

"Lizzy," he sighed. Running a hand through his mussed-up hair, he stepped back to let me in.

He'd discarded his sweater, leaving him in his jeans and a white t-shirt. It clung to his pecs and shoulders, and I had to drag my gaze back to his. The man could fill out a scrap of cotton.

"Is it okay I'm here?" I asked, rubbing a thumb on the strap of my toiletry bag. "I didn't want to say goodnight."

"Me either."

His room was just like mine. A hallway from the door to an open space with a king-sized bed, a television mounted next to a large mirror. A sunny lake scene hung above his headrest—mine was an abstract print of flowers, but otherwise everything was the same. His brown leather coat draped over the chair in the corner next to his suitcase unzipped on the floor.

I set my little bag on the table under the mirror. It suddenly seemed presumptuous to bring it. Turning, I crossed my arms over my chest. "I was scared that I remembered your room number wrong."

Throwing his head back, he laughed at the ceiling. The sound was so full, and it pulled the corners of my lips. I leaned back against the table, gripping the edge of it in both hands, resisting the urge to hug him.

Why is he so magnetic?

"You got it right." The corners of his eyes crinkled, and I swam in their mossy green depths.

"It's not creepy I'm here?"

He shook his head. His smile stilled and slipped slightly. He took a small step closer. Tilting his head in silent question, he tucked his hands into his pockets. The fabric around his biceps stretched.

A blush warmed his cheeks.

My God, this man is too much.

"I could not be happier that you're in my room," he admitted.

A fleet of butterflies took flight in my gut, and I lost a brief battle with my face. I couldn't remember the last time I'd smiled that big. It felt like a warm summer breeze off the lakes back home. It felt like zooming down a hill on my bike with my hands off the handlebars. It felt like fireworks exploding across a navy sky.

I sank into the feeling. Empowered by it, I gripped his wrist, tugging him closer. He followed my urging. The hairs on my arms stood on end, anticipating another one of his all-consuming kisses. My legs ached to wrap around his waist. I eyed the hem of his shirt hanging loosely around his hips. Could I snake my fingers up and across his stomach?

One look at the lust in his hypnotizing eyes confirmed a resounding yes.

It didn't seem to matter what question my body asked his. The answer was yes. More.

"Why is it like this with you?" I whispered, hyper aware of the inches separating us. Barely room enough for words. The space filled with heat off his body, and the scent of his soap and minty toothpaste on his breath.

"I don't know. But I want it."

I took hold of the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to meet mine. Against my fingertips, the pulse in his wrist jumped.

The gates opened. The dam broke. I was flooded.

My heart thundered. Electricity sparked like lightning across my scalp and down my spine. There was no reason for restraint, and I gave in. All my impulses were safe. He confirmed it with the groan at the back of his throat, the hands that cupped my thighs placing me on the table, the scrape of his teeth along my jaw.

I hooked my ankles behind his back, the rock of my hips instinctual against the bulge behind his zipper. Impatience braided with desire in my veins. It was interminable. We'd just started—we'd just met—and already this was taking too long. He tasted too good. His fingers digging into my thighs, encouraging my movements was almost everything I wanted. His back flexed under my palms.

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