Page 152 of Snowed In

It’s best to not think of this.

It’s best to forget we ever happened.

By the time Bree and Bryan walk out to a slew of bubbles and catcalls I’m over the whole evening. As soon as they’re out the door I make my way up to my hotel room. I don’t want to stand downstairs and watch Christian or Sarah dance anymore. Don’t want to groweven more desperately angry. There’s no point in picking at an annoying wound. I need to get over him. Really fast.

Then we can go back to not talking and I’ll pretend that I never kissed those sweet lips, that he never had all his firsts with me. Well, not all, but most.

That irks me to no end.

I walk straight into my hotel bathroom, strip off my clothes, and shower, taking far too long to wash myself before brushing my teeth and glugging down a bottle of water right after. I’m slightly buzzed, nothing more, but perhaps I should order a few drinks to the room. Pass the night away in a nice haze.

But as soon as my hand hits the phone to order them, there’s a knock on the door.

I stare at it, grabbing a towel and throwing it around my waist. Who the hell is that?

When I swing the door open, I see Christian waiting there for me, looking a little shy, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

I don’t say anything, just look at him intently. He’s still wearing his suit, his hair a little mussed, his cheeks still that pretty pink.

“Hi,” he says, blinking at me. “You left.”

“Yep,” I reply, feeling my chest twinge. Probably a heart attack. Too many fucking feelings for me to deal with.

“Um, I just wanted…I just wanted to…” His words trail off and I shift on my feet as his eyes trail down my mostly naked body. He wets those plump, red lips and my cock starts to harden.

“You should be downstairs with Sarah,” I bite out.

His eyes slam into mine and he cocks his head. “Why would I do that when I could be with you?”

Those words have my lips parting in surprise.

“But Sarah…”

“She’s an old friend. Nothing more.”

My heart thumps wildly in my chest, and I should push him away, should shut the door in his face, but instead, my fingers curl into his suit jacket, and I pull him roughly into my room, the doorclicking shut behind him. Our lips slam into each other, my towel falling from my hips as our teeth and bodies grind together. It’s frantic, the two of us falling onto the bed, my hands shoving his jacket off and ripping his shirt open.

“Oh gosh,” he groans when I run my hands along his chest. “I missed this.”

“Same,” I admit and then kiss him again, shutting him up. I want to ride his dick, want to slide my dick into his hole and let him see heaven.

I’d make it so good for him.

We roll over so I’m on top, my legs straddling his, and I start kissing my way down his chest.

“I want you.”

“You can have me.”

I moan and tug his pants and underwear off, leaving him only in his socks. So fucking hot. How he can manage this is ridiculous.

I grab onto his dick and twist it in my palm. He gasps, arching up, his eyelids drooping in lust.

“Look at your pretty dick. Has it had enough of me yet?”

“No. It wants more. I want more.”

“Can I ride you?” I ask, and he swallows roughly.

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