Page 118 of The Crush of Christmas Past
We passHistoryandGeography.PhilosophyandPsychology. AtReligion, my body is already praying for her touch. When we brush byAstrology, I thank my lucky stars as Isla pushes me against the shelf and kisses me like she’s set on conjuring the Big Bang.
She tastes like the heat of the sun and the everlastingness of constellations.
My past, present, and future.
I almost slip up and tell her I love her. Make it known how much I’vealwaysloved her. How deep that love runs. How long she’s lived in my heartbeat.
But I know better than to push her, so I keep my mouth too tangled in kissing to string her up with words. I’m content to keep showing her how I feel. For the rest of my life, if that’s what she needs.
“Thank you.” She presses the words into my lips.
I don’t have time to reply before her tongue steals my capacity for speech. Her moans dissolve in my mouth, and I swallow them as she grinds against me, feeding off the grunts I’m too far gone to hold back.
She’s no longer kissing me. She’sconsumingme. Piece by piece.
In this moment, she’s utterly wild, uninhibited, and free.
So fucking beautiful.
My palm slides under her sweater, skating along the warm, bare skin at her waist. Spurred on by her sweet gasp, I grip her thigh with my other hand, hooking her leg around my hip until her body slots perfectly to mine.
We share a groan as she angles herself, rubbing along the hard line of my cock. A curse rumbles low in my chest when she rolls again, dragging the seam of her jeans over me. The friction of rough, raw, denim on denim is maddening.
“You look so pretty,” I murmur in her ear, nipping at the sensitive spot just below it. “All turned on by your talent. Rightfully fucking so.”
My fingers glide higher, finding her breast, pinching her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. She arches to meet my touch, bringing us closer. With a hiss of pleasure, I grab her ass, rocking her against me with a rhythm I’m no longer able to control. We pant into each other’s mouths like we’re trying to breathe through an inferno.
“Can you come like this, Sunshine? Give me a sweet repeat of our first kiss? Or do you need to ride my face until you’re dripping down my chin? Need me to lick you until you’re shaking from the inside out?”
She whimpers, hips jolting. Her nails dig into my shoulders, the grip so fierce I feel it through my jacket.
“Or maybe you want to be bent over the stacks and fucked from behind? Is that it? Do you need to come on my cock right here where anyone can see?”
A violent nod is her only answer as her entire body shudders. She’s right on the precipice—seconds from breaking apart in my arms.
I’m not far behind. My vision darkens at the edges.
One more word. One more move.
That’s all it’ll take.
“Fuck, Isla…” I rasp. “You're gonna—”
The sound of a clearing throat invades my ecstasy.
“Once again,” a voice carries from down the row, “so happy your Christmas wish was granted.”
Isla squeaks. I curse. We both freeze.
Mid-thrust. Mid–mutual orgasm.
She scrambles behind one of the stacks, leaving me—and my erection—to fend for myself.
Crap.
It takes a moment before I trust myself to make direct eye contact with Nick.
Gotta give credit where it’s due—the man manages a serene smile, even though his face is the exact shade of second-hand embarrassment.
