Page 32 of The Crush of Christmas Past
Theo leans in, breaching all remaining distance between us. “Open,” he says, holding out his untouched cupcake.
I blink up at him.
“Open,” he repeats.
This time, his voice is sharper. Sterner. The word slides down my spine and settles between my legs, chasing friction.
Oh, no.
When he presses the sugary treat to my lips, the treacherous things part without waiting for clearance from my brain.
As quickly as the madness rises, I snap my mouth shut, pulse thrashing against my throat.
“I…don’t…want…it,” I mumble through clenched teeth.
“Two options, Sunshine. Keep lying to us both…” He holds the cupcake steady between his thumb and forefinger, tipping my chin up with the middle one. “Or put that mouth to better use.” His eyes burn into mine. “Open wide. Quit denying yourself.”
Everything inside me pulls tighter at the command. I squirm under his gaze, unable to keep still as my skin flushes. If the heat is any indication, I must be the color of mulled wine.
When I let him into my mouth, I tell myself it’s forscience. The secret recipe has me in a chokehold. It’s irresistible. Totally worth screwing over whatever shred of dignity I had left.
I savor the moment, dragging the cupcake across my lips before closing them around it. As the flavor melts on my tongue, my lashes lower and I indulge in what can only be described as foreplay with the frosting.
So good. So, so good.
Above me, Theo makes a rough noise deep in his throat.
My eyes snap open when his thumb swipes across my bottom lip.
“Icing,” he grunts, exhaling harshly.
Acting on instinct, I lick at the spot, tongue grazing his finger.
He rips his hand away like I’ve just burned it.
Good. That’s what he gets for force-feeding me treats.
Not that I was protesting, butstill.
“You could’ve just eaten it yourself and spared us the awkwardness,” I hiss, attempting to claw back some semblance of control.
He tilts his head. “Oh, is this awkward for you?” His breathing is ragged, but his voice remains smooth as sin.
“Very.” I pause, willing my hammering heart to slow down.
Yeah, it’s awkward.
But it’s also…hot.
Of course, I’d rather be trampled by a herd of reindeer than admit that being fed and fondled by Theo has the same effect asbeing wired into a string of cheap Christmas lights. Too many sparks—the fire-starting, hazardous kind.
Shit.
“It would’ve been wasted on me,” he says gruffly, as if trying to justify his behavior. “I don’t like sugar.”
“Only monsters hate sugar,” I jab, forcing lightness into my voice despite the flutter in my chest.
“Then I must be a monster.” Just when I imagine our conversation taking a darker path, he veers it completely off-course. Leaning in, his breath coasts over my lips as he adds, “A monster you allowed into your mouth.”
