Page 95 of Booked for the Holidays
“I hate when you say that word.” A kiss is pressed to my forehead, then my cheek. “It makes me want to lose control.”
“Grumpy business owner brought down by the girl next door.” I chuckle, a breathless laugh amidst the eager anticipation of what comes next. My hand covers the large one resting on my leg, guiding his palm to my underwear. “Who would’ve thought?”
His fingers brush over the cotton and he grins against the column of my throat at the dampness greeting him. “Can the girl next door stay quiet while the grumpy business owner fingers her on the back of a tractor?”
I swallow my whimper and nod aggressively. I position my body so my back leans against his left arm, propped up. “Yes. She can.”
“Then be a good girl and spread your legs for me. There you go. That’s perfect,” Theo says, and I cling to the praise. I hold it tight. My thighs open and my skirt bunches at my waist. His fingers hook in my underwear, dragging the material down to my feet.
He runs his hand up the length of my leg from my calf to my hip. It’s teasing. Taunting. Seeing how far he can get before I break and ask for more.
“Theo,” I whisper. It’s an acknowledgement that I recognize the consequences and repercussions, and I don’t care. He kisses my neck. The top of my chest. Everywhere and anywhere he can reach.
“Ask me,” he grunts.
“Please. I need you to… I need you.”
“Try again.”
I almost sob at the tortuous feeling. The light dance of his fingers, featherlight, over my belly. The trust I feel for him, recognizing no matter how much he plays, I know he’s going to let me win.
“Please touch me. Please let me come. I don’t care how, but I—”
His mouth covers mine at the perfect moment. His fingers sink inside me and I melt. I wiggle and buck my hips against his hand. I writhe and grind. Incoherent, indecipherable words tumble from my throat, mumbled prayers that go unanswered. I don’t know what I’m saying. All I can focus on is Theo, already knowingexactlywhat I like. Whispers in my ear of “open your eyes, Bridget” and “look how you take me” and “good. So good, angel.”
Every time I’m close to the precipice of release, the edge of ecstasy, he pulls his finger away, slick sounds almost deafening out in the empty fields. He brings them to my mouth, offering me a taste.
My tongue accepts the gift hungrily, one finger turning into two. It’s the single most erotic thing I’ve ever done. Exhibitionism hasn’t been on my list of things to try, but I’m so turned on, sodesperate,I don’t care who sees. When the driver turns around to gesture to a clump of trees, I clench around Theo so tightly, he grins, victoriously.
“Maybe not an angel after all.” He chuckles wickedly in my ear. “This pussy wants to be seen, doesn’t it? It wants the world to know how much it likes to be taken care of, out here where anyone could watch.”
“Yes. It does,” I whisper, voicing the truth. My sweater has fallen off my shoulder. My hair is a tangled mess of knots, coming out of the ponytail I started the evening with. The blanket almost falls off my thighs, baring myself to the world. “But it’s yours.”
His attack ceases. His precision wavers and he slows. Dirty, rough movements become gentler. Lazy circles. A deep kiss I feel in the depths of my stomach, growing stronger and stronger.
“Mine,” he repeats, strangled and hoarse.
“Theo. Please.”
His lips quirk up. He looks pleased and proud. Silently adding a third digit, he brushes the hair off my face. “Want to see you when you come,” he mutters. His fingers curl inside me, finding the spot I rarely hit on my own.
His gaze never leaves mine, looking down at me with his lip caught between his teeth, a flame of desire behind his eyes, and his heart nearly tumbling out of his chest.
A match strikes, working its way down my spine, across my stomach and settling between my legs. He anticipates the moment, knows it’s close. His lips find mine in a searing kiss as I unravel, wave after wave of pleasure working through me. I ride the sensation all the way to shore, chest heaving with exertion and exhaustion.
My limbs are heavy as I come down from my high. My muscles are pliant. I think I’ve transcended Earth. Theo nudges my cheek. He fixes my sweater and does his best to brush out my hair with his clean fingers.
The others he licks until they no longer glisten, free from the effects of his distraction techniques.
“That was something else.” My throat is scratchy and I see the lodge coming into view.
“Alright, folks, welcome back,” the driver says. The tractor shifts to park. “Be careful on the way down. We’ve got cookies, cider, and hot cocoa set up in the barn. Feel free to take a look around, and thanks for coming by.”
“I could go for another hot chocolate,” I say, stretching my arms above my head.
“I’ll grab you some when we get down,” Theo says.
“Thank you. No ma—”
