Page 102 of Double Standards
“Hey,” he calls, striding toward me with a grin. His arms circle my waist, and before I can react, he spins me in the air and crashes his mouth onto mine. Our kiss is urgent, fierce, and consuming, like we’re starving for each other, like the space between us has been unbearable. The moment our lips connect, everything else ceases to exist. I melt into him, surrendering to the heat, the hunger, the storm we’ve both tried too long to ignore.
I open my mouth, letting him in, and his tongue finds minewith a desperation that makes my knees weak. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a collision of need and memory, of all the words we haven’t said. His hand slides to the back of my neck, anchoring me to him like he’s afraid I’ll slip away. But I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not while we’re burning like this.
A soft moan escapes me, unguarded and aching, and I don’t try to hide it. I want him to hear it, to know what he does to me. My fingers clutch the front of his coat, pulling him closer, needing him closer, as if I could bury myself in him and find something like safety. Or salvation. Or maybe just the truth of how much I still want him.
When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless. “Fuck, I missed you,” he murmurs, burying his face in my neck.
“It’s only been four days,” I reply, dazed and laughing as he lowers me to the ground.
“Four days is too long.” He spins around and opens the car door with a flourish. “After you.”
I slide into the warm interior, watching him round the car and settle beside me.
“This isn’t my gift, is it?” I tease.
“Only part of it.” He smirks, holding out a box.
I hesitate. Something about Axel always keeps me off-balance, unsteady in the best and worst ways.
“What is it?” I ask, wary.
“Open it.”
I pop the clasp. Nestled inside, glinting under the soft interior light, is a white gold watch.
“Wow,” I breathe, fingers brushing the metal. It’s cool to the touch, but the warmth behind this gesture contradicts it.
“It’s eighteen-carat white gold,” he says casually.
My eyes snap up to his. The watch is beautiful. Extravagant. Too much.
“I can’t accept this,” I say, shaking my head.
His hands find my face. “Why not?” he asks gently. “You don’t like it?”
“No! It’s beautiful. I just—” I falter, struggling for the words. I haven’t told him why Christmas weighs so heavily on me. It’s not the gifts or the traditions, it’s what they represent. And somehow, I think Axel knows that.
“I don’t… do Christmas,” I murmur.
“I figured,” he replies softly. “It’s just a gift, Cassie. Nothing more.”
His sincerity cuts through my defenses. I nod, and he takes the watch from the box, gently fastening it around my wrist. The gold kisses my skin, cold and delicate.
“I didn’t get you anything,” I whisper as he trails a finger along my collarbone.
“I can think of a few ways you could repay me.”
I lean in and kiss him, slow and promising. “I think I can manage that.”
“Then we better get you home.”
He drives in silence, one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally drifting toward mine. Snow falls heavier now, Christmas carols playing faintly through the speakers. I ignore the cheeriness. It feels like it belongs to another world.
We reach Lexie’s place twenty minutes later. Axel rounds the car, helping me up the porch steps.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask.
Instead of answering, he wraps his arms around me, pressing our bodies together as his warmth seeps through my coat. His lips find mine again, deep and lingering. When he finally pulls back, I whisper, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
