Page 22 of Holidate Pursuit

My lips crash to hers, and without hesitation, she kisses me back fervently, as if her life depends on it. And at this moment, it does because nothing could stop me from devouring her right here, right now.

My tongue battles for more, wanting what it’s been denied for so long. It’s like we were never apart with how familiar this feels. My hand winds its way into her hair and tugs, causing her to moan into my mouth, making my cock throb. I grind into her, looking for relief, but the second she feels me, her hands press hard on my chest and push me away.

“Stop. No, this isn’t part of the plan. I may not have had one to begin with, but even if I did, this wouldn’t be included.”

Easing back, I can’t help that the first thing I notice is her chest heaving up and down, making her breasts rise with every breath. At least I know she’s just as into it as I am. Fuck, I didn’t mean to move so quickly. My goal was to take it slow and slide back into the easiness between us. But fuck if I’m not just as powerless with her now as I was back then.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” Rolling back to my side, I exhale loudly in frustration, partly at myself, but more so sexually. My cock is hard as a fucking rock and dying for another release. As easy as it would be to slink away and do just that, the more important thing to do is stay and make this right.

“I swear it wasn’t my intention. While you were getting ready for bed, I specifically schooled myself to behave. But damn, I meant it when I said you were irresistible—”

She starts to cut me off, but I stop her by putting my hand up and continuing, “But… I promise I won’t make another move—until you beg for it.”

“That will not be happening.”

“That’s too bad.”

“For you, maybe.” She huffs and rolls over, facing away from me. “And in case you weren’t paying attention to the schedule, we’re expected at breakfast at nine tomorrow, followed by a visit to the Christmas tree farm to cut down our tree. So be ready.”

“Oh, thank God, because the seven I’ve counted so far is laughable for a mansion this size,” I say haughtily. Hearing her quiet giggle is pure satisfaction as I hit the light before closing my eyes, more content than I’ve been in months.

TRADITIONS

Lucy

“What’s the plan? Strap the tree to the top?” Justin motions to the custom-configured Escalade in which the five of us were chauffeured to the Christmas tree farm.

Rolling my eyes, I pull him along behind the rest of my family toward the office. “No, silly, we pay them to bring it to us after we cut it down.”

He stops me halfway there. “Why exactly are we doing this?”

“It’s tradition. We cut down our tree every year and then decorate it that night. This is my brother’s and my favorite part of Christmas because it’s one of the only times we’re just a normal family… who wears ugly sweaters.” She gestures to the attire we’ve all donned for the occasion. “The tree is never perfect, holds all our homemade ornaments, and is the one Santa leaves presents under.”

“The Santa you don’t believe in anymore? You could have told me about this tradition instead of your made-up Santa’s milk and cookies story.”

“It wasn’t made-up, but we stopped doing it around seven years old after we learned the truth. Plus, it was worth it to see you stunned speechless,” I tease, only to have Justin tickle me, causing uncontrollable laughter.

“Justin, stop!”

“I will for a kiss,” he whispers in my ear.

“Justin,” I plead between fits of laughter. Trying to twist from his hold is impossible.

“Come on, Lucy. One kiss. I won’t even require tongue.”

“Ugh, fine,” I relent, not seeing any other way out.

He finally stops and gently brushes the hair from my face. With both hands framing my cheeks, he leans down and softly grazes his full lips against mine. It feels like heaven. Our mouths dance with each other until my tongue darts out for a taste, and he suddenly pulls back.

“Uh-uh. No tongue, remember?” He smirks.

I pull away and wipe my mouth. “Whatever. I was only doing it because you made me. I didn’t even want to.”

“So, that was just a slip of the tongue then?” he jests.

I groan in frustration and continue toward the rest of my family, not bothering to wait for him.

Last night, he said he wouldn’t touch me again until I begged. That isnothappening. The chemistry between us is intense, but I won’t allow myself to fall for his charm again—I learned that lesson last time. Damn him and his kissable lips.

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