Page 78 of Holiday Hostilities

“If one of us was ever not good enough, it was me. You were—and still are—so far out of my league.”

His words dance all over my skin, making me shiver.

“Shut up, Aaron.” My voice is half-hearted, my stomach full of nervous butterflies.

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

The look he gives me when he says this gives me goosebumps, and it takes everything in me to keep my composure as I roll my eyes and gesture towards my face. “Even with puffy red panda eyes?”

He smiles softly. “Trust me—no other woman can hold a candle to you. Even with puffy red panda eyesand smudgedlipstick.” His smile slides into a sudden smirk. “Even when you’re soaked to the skin like a drowned rat.”

“Wha—?”

The word doesn’t have a chance to leave my lips because, in one swift movement, he puts his hands on my waist, picks me up, and walks us into the shower until my back hits the wall.

The scorching water rushes over us, soaking us to the skin, and my hands dig into his shoulders as I squeal. “What are you doing? Your tux is going to be ruined!”

“You were shivering,” he counters, running his hands over my arms as if he’s attempting to smooth my goosebumps away. Unfortunately, the feel of his rough skin on mine has the opposite effect, and despite the warm water, I break out in about a million more goosebumps.

Steam billows around us in clouds and the satin of my dress sticks to my skin.

“You’re beautiful all the time, Olivia.” His voice is hot, his expression raw.

He cups my chin, his thumb moving to trace my bottom lip, and for a moment, all my nerve endings sizzle in exquisite white-hot bliss.

“But you hate me,” I mumble stupidly, half-aware that I’m breathing way too hard.

Aaron looks at me through heavy-lidded, dark eyes as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips skimming my cheek. “The only thing I hate about you, Olivia, is having to be around you and not being able to do this.”

He leans forward and carefully, measuredly, brushes his lips across mine, featherlight and teasing and warm and entirely perfect. It’s somehow too much and nowhere near enough all at once, but too soon, he pulls back, his breathing ragged.

My eyes flutter open to find his fixed on me.

Watching me.

Waiting for me,I realize.

And apparently, all the blood has run out of my brain and flooded the rest of my body, because in answer, I close the gap between us and press my lips against his again.

A low groan comes from his throat and he wastes no time, his hand moving to my face, angling my chin so he can kiss me deeper.

As his tongue moves over mine, an anguished sound leaves my mouth and my hands struggle to find purchase on his chest, grabbing at his soaked clothes as I pull him impossibly closer.

The steamy water continues to pour over us, and all I can feel is the heat of liquid on my skin, the heat of Aaron’s body against me, the heat of his mouth as it moves over mine in a rhythm that makes my head spin and my legs shake. In response, he slides his hands under my thighs, picking me up again so I’m pinned against the wall, my legs looping around his waist as he continues to kiss me so expertly, it makes me forget anything outside of him even exists.

I’ve never in my life been kissed like this. Had no idea kissingcouldbe like this.

During my fantasies of one-upping Aaron and getting my retribution, my mind would sometimes run away with me and I’d somehow end up fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him. In my mind, we’d be warriors sparring, fighting for control of the situation, using every weapon in our arsenal to one-up each other.

In reality, I am completely at his mercy.

I’m hot and flustered and drenched in desire, putty in his hands. He’s kissing me wildly, with complete abandon, scrapes of teeth and tongue and total raw emotion. Yet there’s something gentler underneath it all, driving the kiss. Like he’s savoring every second, drinking me in as he kisses me senseless.

My legs tighten around him, and my hands move from the wet shirt sticking to his skin to find his hair, tangling in it and pulling it. He kisses me harder, one arm wrapped under my thighs, while the other braces on the shower tile behind my head, holding us firmly together.

His lips break away from mine and I moan in disappointment, until his hot, wet mouth latches onto my neck. My back arches as he kisses from my pulse point all the way to my collarbone, which he nips with his teeth, then soothes with a kiss, before kissing his way back up again, a man on a mission.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, Olivia? Do you know how many times I’ve laid in bed at night, thinking about you?Dreamingabout doing exactly this with you?”

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