Page 24 of The Christmas List

“C’mere, Josie,” he rasps. Those four syllables send a wave of goose bumps erupting along my flesh and a shiver traveling down my spine.

Swallowing down the tightness in my throat, I push off the door obediently, crossing the room one slow step at a time until I’m in front of him.

So close that I can see the newly lit flames from the fireplace dancing in his bourbon-colored irises, which are framed by dark lashes. His eyes seem to smolder, just like the fire.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?” he breathes, reaching out and sweeping the rough pads of his fingers along the bare skin of my shoulder, slipping beneath the strap of my bikini top. “How many times in the last two weeks that I’ve come with your name on my lips? I’m fucking crazy about you, Josie.”

Oh God.

Slowly, he tugs the strap off my shoulder, then repeats the motion with the other, never lowering his gaze, never taking his eyes off mine, and somehow, that only makes the simple movement so much more intense. More intimate.

More… something that I’m too afraid to admit to myself.

Ignoring the swell in my chest, I step forward and slant my mouth over his as I lift up on my tiptoes and tangle my fingers in the hair along his nape, unable to last another second without touching him.

The frantic desperation that we felt in the truck earlier has been reignited, and his rough hands are suddenly everywhere, sliding down the bare, heated skin of my back, his fingers dancing along the notches of my spine, down to the curve of my ass, where he groans against my lips, low and deep.

Like he couldn’t help the sound vibrating out of him, an involuntary reaction to the feel of me in his hands.

Quite possibly the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

His tongue sweeps between my open lips, demanding access, stroking and flicking against mine in a way that I feel all the way from my throbbing clit to the tips of my toes, a full-body reaction to simply beingkissedby this man.

The tips of his fingers dig into my ass as he effortlessly lifts me off my feet. My legs wrap around his waist, and I feel hishard erection brushing against my aching core, causing me to whimper.

My entire body feels like a live wire, and I have no doubt that a few touches from Wyatt would send me over the edge. My fingers curl into his hair, tugging when his teeth scrape along my bottom lip.

With each breath, his lips trail along the edge of my jawline, down to my neck, where his tongue flicks out, sucking at the sensitive skin of my pulse point.

Lower.

And lower.

He kisses a path along my body to my chest, dragging his tongue along my skin as he tastes me. My eyes flutter shut, heat flooding my lower belly as he trails lower and lower until he meets the heaving swell of my chest.

Only then do my eyes fly open, connecting with his hooded gaze as he closes his lips over my nipple through the fabric of the bikini. Even with a barrier, it has me moaning breathlessly, tugging tightly at the strands of his hair, my back arching and pushing myself further into his mouth.

I feel the rough scrape of his teeth over the taut, impossibly pebbled peak, and my head swims.

“Wyatt,” I whimper, hardly recognizing my own voice, which is heavy with need. I twine my fingers tighter in his hair as he lowers us to the thick rug before the fireplace and spreads me out beneath him. His heated gaze rakes over my body in a way that has me pulsing, heart racing, head dizzy with need.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs quietly, lifting his eyes to mine.

I feel the same about him.

Drawing my swollen bottom lip between my teeth, I reach for him, placing his hands back along the expanse of my stomachand slowly sliding them higher until his big, rough palms are cupping my breasts.

The eye contact between us is so intense that it makes me ache between my legs and somewhere beneath my breastbone.

“Touch me, Wyatt.”

I watch as the thick column of his throat bobs, the muscles of his shoulders tight with restraint. But I don’t want him to be restrained. I want the uncontrolled Wyatt. The one I’ve never experienced.

“Don’t hold back.Please,” I whisper thickly as I trail my fingers along the hard plane of his stomach, ghosting them along the dips between his abs, lower until I’m brushing along his cock, which is impossibly hard beneath the swim trunks.

He hisses, a low grunt vibrating out of his chest when I curve my palm over his length.

God, he’s… so much bigger than I remember?

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