Page 90 of Booked for the Holidays
The confirmation snaps whatever restraint Theo might be holding onto. His fingers tug my shirt upward, pausing as the material rises over my stomach, a silent question. I nod, the bite of the cool air nipping at my exposed bare skin. His hands are back on me in a flash, peeling the clothing off and dropping it into the water. I watch it sink to the bottom.
Theo’s palms rub across my stomach. Up my back. Between my shoulder blades, eyes never leaving mine.
“You okay?” he asks. It’s strained, with a touch of care, too.
“I’m fine.”
He huffs a laugh and gathers me in his arms. Lifting me, my legs circle his waist, heels settling against his lower back. We’re on the same level now, chest to chest. Eye to eye. His right hand finds my hair, twisting damp strands around his wrist. His left hand goes to the swell of my breast, thumb swiping back and forth across the underside, marking a trail no one has traveled in years.
My lips are a hair’s breadth away from his. A centimeter, maybe less. He swallows and brushes his nose against mine. Chuckles, as if to wordlessly say he can’t believe this is happening,finally happening. Then, his lips press against mine, a kiss I feel all the way to my toes.
It’s cataclysmic. World-ending.
Hotter, sweeter, and more passionate than anything I’ve ever experienced before. There’s an urge to jump into the destructive waters of Theo Gardner and never come up for air.
He’s greedy. Ravishing and unceasing. His tongue asks for permission and I grant it, welcoming him in. His grip tightens, hand moving from my breast up to my cheek. He’s clutching me like I’ll vanish at any moment, disappearing into thin air. My hips roll into his body, up the hardness beneath me.
“Bridget,” he whispers. He pulls back, eyes glassy and bright. He looks drunk, a hazy blur of lust and need.
“What’s wrong?” My hand cradles his face and he presses a kiss to the center of my palm.
“I haven’t been… it’s been years since I’ve done anything physical with a woman,” he admits. “And this–” he says, gesturing between us, giving my nipple a surprise pinch. My back arches in response. “–is close to making me finish. So, please, don’t… don’t judge me based on this one time.”
“It’s been a year for me,” I whisper. My lips find his throat and I kiss down his neck. He groans loudly, unabashedly, as his head drops back. “And I’ve thought about this. What it would be like with you.” I shift my position in his arms, enough to drag myself down the length of his thigh. I can feel every ridge of his body through the flimsy shorts I’m wearing. Every muscle and every piece of the hard,arousedman. “This could be enough for me, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He nods once, hand closing around my neck. “Then take what you need to feel good, princess, because you moving up and down like that is going to do it for me. You’re so fucking sexy.”
I turn frantic, then, at the direction and permission. The endearment, the way Theo looks beautiful in the colors of silver and white under the moon. I rock and grind against him,using himto find the perfect rhythm. His hand falls to my breast, pinching my nipple. A twist, a pull. Teeth graze my throat. In my ear, he murmurs words of encouragement until I’m close,so closeto becoming undone.
“Theo,” I beg. His hand disappears in the water and a beat passes before I feel his thumb press against my center, through my shorts and underwear, finding the exact, perfect spot on the first try. A circle over the fabric, and I’m trembling.
“That’s my girl,” he grunts, placing a kiss below the shell of my ear. It’s my downfall. My salvation. I light up, exploding like a million stars under the night sky.
My forehead drops to his shoulder, biting the collar of his shirt to stay quiet as he works me to the finish line. I fumble my hands, palming him through his jeans, fingers curling over the outline of his length and giving a light squeeze. A sob racks my body and I hear him let out a soft, long moan of his own, thrusting into my hand a half-dozen times before he stills.
I inhale, trying to level my breathing. His arms wrap around me and he rubs my back. A kiss is pressed to my hair. My forehead. My cheek. I think I’m dreaming, floating above the water in a fit of ecstasy, an out-of-body experience.
“Angel,” he whispers. It’s strangled, a croak of a word. “I think you killed me.”
I half-laugh, half-cry, and nod in agreement. “Same.”
“Last time I came in my pants I was twelve years old. Almost thirty years in between? It was a good run.”
I bite my lip to keep from giggling. “Is it weird I find that hot? Because I do.”
He untangles our limbs and peels his chest away from mine, searching my face. “Doing okay?
“Yeah.” I wipe my eyes and nod. “Incredible.”
“Stay with me?” Theo kisses my forehead. “I don’t want… I mean, I do want to be with you. Badly. But I mean that in a, let’s shower and sleep for a few hours kind of way.”
“What about Mac?”
“I’ll sneak you out in the morning before she wakes up. Not because I’m embarrassed or anything. It’s just… I’m not ready for that conversation yet.”
