Page 54 of Deck the Fire Halls

I studied him for a moment. The sincerity, the softness in his eyes. He really did enjoy helping others, being sympathetic and attuned to those in need, and that was something I really needed in a partner.

And damn, I could listen to him talk all day.

“I used to treat teenagers, back in Seattle. The usual horrible things: drugs, assaults, abuse. And it’s easy to get complacent, to get systematically prejudiced into thinking all teenagers are lazy and ungrateful, you know, as the older generations would have us believe. But that’s simply not true. These kids are passionate about a lot of things. They care about the environment, about equality and equity, and they don’t stand for intolerance. They’re just silenced in a world built and run by adults and governments who don’t listen to them, and they’re frustrated. They’re going to get left a world that’s unsustainable, financially, environmentally, and be expected to fix everything...” He shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to rant. I get a bit preachy.”

I turned to face him, our knees interlocked, and I took his hand. “Don’t apologize. I like that you’re passionate about it.”

He smiled, embarrassed, his cheeks pink.

“I haven’t been passionate about anything in so long.” He shrugged. “But I want to look at youth programs and training programs and?—”

I leaned forward and kissed him.

I don’t know what made me do it. I just had to kisshim right then, mid-sentence. He was so fucking attractive, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Are you trying to tell me to shut up?”

I shook my head. “Hell no. I could listen to you talk about this all day. I just... you’re so fucking hot when you talk like this.”

His cheeks burned red. “Like what?”

“Like it’s something you believe in. Something you feel strongly about. I mean, you’re hot when you’re not talking too, but right now?” I let out a low breath. “So fucking sexy.”

He scoffed, as if that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.

“I should have asked you first,” I whispered. “If I could kiss you. Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” he murmured, his blush creeping down his neck.

Christ, that shouldn’t be so hot.

All I could do was stare. Taking in the line of his neck, his jaw, his perfectly pink lips.

“Soren,” he whispered, making me look at his eyes. His eyes were dark and full of desire. “Ask me again.”

The air crackled between us, instantly electric.

Oh, hell yes.

“May I kiss you, Robinson?” I put my hand to his jaw, running my thumb over the stubble on his chin, then the softness of his bottom lip. “I wanna kiss you so fucking bad.”

He made a grunting sound before he nodded. “Yes, please.”

I pulled his face to mine, crashing our mouths together. Open lips, tongues colliding, sparks ignited in my bones, my blood ran hot all over.

I thrust my tongue into his mouth and he took it, sucking and groaning, and my god... my dick was aching with need. I wouldn’t be going home to get rid of it tonight.

This was going to end here, with him. One way or another... We were both too riled up, too hot, too fast.

I’d never wanted anyone so much, so badly as I wanted him.

I held his face and tilted his head so I could devour him, and he let me. He grunted and slid forward on his seat, and when that wasn’t close enough, he tried to straddle me, but the table was in the way.

I wasn’t having that.

I stood up, brought him to his feet with me, still kissing him, still holding his face, still feeding him my tongue. I walked him backward to the sofa and lowered him onto it, laying him down, me on top of him.

He felt heavenly underneath me, and even better when he opened his legs. Muscular and warm, his mouth hot, his erection hard against mine.

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