Page 61 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

I don’t want to think about that, though, or what it might mean. I just want to be in this moment with him. I just want tofeel.

“I got you,” he whispers. “You’re okay.” He kisses his way down my body, sucking on my nipples one at a time and making me arch and moan. “Let go,” he murmurs against my belly. “You don’t have to worry about anything. Let me make you feel good.”

Taking him at his word, I give myself over to the feel of his hands and lips and tongue against my skin, indulging in the pleasure he so freely offers. My orgasm takes longer than normal to coax out of me, but Austin gives no indication that he minds, staying between my thighs for as long as I need, his groan matching my own when I finally come.

He’s grinning when he rises over me, wiping his mouth with his hand. “God, that’s so sexy,” he murmurs, reaching for a condom and rolling it on.

Part of me wants to object, wants to return the favor. But before I can do much more than open my mouth, he’s there, kissing me,gathering me in his arms, his cock rubbing along my sensitive slit until he slides inside me at last. It’s bliss. Heat and pleasure and connection and everything and oh, god, I might start crying. It’s so perfect, he’s so perfect,we’reso perfect.

Can I really give this up?

But can I really give up everything else? Close the doors on all the other possibilities?

But can I close the door on this?

I’m so torn, and I don’t know what to do, what to think, so I stop thinking and wrap myself around him, hooking my ankles behind his back, my arms behind his shoulders, and hold on as he chases his own pleasure.

He comes with a groan, shuddering and trembling as he grinds his hips into mine, and it’s everything. The way he looks at me, the way he feels inside me, the way he holds me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

But is it enough?

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Austin

We lazeon the bed for a while, basking in each other’s company before I suggest a bath.

Nora’s eyebrows raise. “A bath?”

Grinning, I nod toward the bathroom. “There’s a great big tub. I figured since we have it, we should use it, don’t you think? Also, there’s champagne and strawberries.”

She giggles. “You went all out for this.”

“It was included with the room.”

Despite my disclaimer, she pulls my mouth to hers with a hand on my cheek, kissing me softly. “Thank you,” she whispers. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” I whisper back. “Merry Christmas.”

That makes her giggle again, flopping back on the bed as I get up and get the bath started. “I should give you your present too.I brought it just in case, since we haven’t solidified our plans for Christmas Day,” she calls after me.

“I can wait,” I tell her, but when I straighten from turning on the tap, she’s behind me, naked and flushed, a small gift bag in her hand.

“It’s not anywhere near as fancy as this.” She gestures around the room. “But I wanted to get you something. And since … well, I thought you could use it.”

She crosses her arms, then drops them, then puts her hands on her hips, like she’s nervous and doesn’t know what to do with her hands. The thought thatImake her nervous is a little bit hilarious, especially after the way she busted my balls when she first got back to town.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” I tell her, going in for a kiss before pulling out the tissue paper.

She laughs when I toss the tissue paper all over the bathroom floor. “Careful!” she cautions. “You’ll get it in the bathtub. Oh, you didn’t plug the drain.” When she bends over to do that, I can’t help checking out her ass, giving it a soft smack that has her head jerking around, a grin stretching her lips. “Oh, we’re at that stage, are we?”

My grin matches hers, and I just shrug. “Pick out what you want to add to the bath,” I tell her, motioning toward the cluster of bottles and soaps next to the rolled towels.

“But your present,” she protests.

“Just pick something real quick. We want it to get in while the water’s running, don’t we? Then I’ll finish opening my present while the bath fills.”

She accepts that rationale and picks a bottle of purple liquid, pouring a shimmering stream into the bath by the faucet, and the smell of lavender fills the air. “Oooh, good choice,” I tell her.

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