Page 123 of A Very Merry Enemy
My hands slide into her hair, angling her head so I can kiss her deeper. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer like she can’t get close enough. We’re pressed together from chest to thigh and it’s still not enough.
I’ve kissed her before. Hundreds of times when we were teenagers. But this is different. We’re different. Fifteen years of wanting and waiting and wondering has built up between us, and now it’s pouring out.
I back her up against the leather seat, and her dress rides up as I settle between her legs. My cock presses against her panties, and she gasps against my mouth.
“I’ve been waiting fifteen years for this,” I say against her lips.
“Then stop talking,” she says, tugging on my belt.
I kiss her harder, deeper, pouring everything I feel into it. My hands slide from her hair down her neck, across her collarbones, down her sides. The silk of her dress is smooth under my palms, but I want to feel her skin.
She tugs at my tie, loosening it, then starts working on my shirt buttons. Her fingers are shaking slightly and something about that makes my chest tight.
I help her with the buttons, shrugging out of my jacket and letting it fall to the carriage floor. She gets my shirt untucked from my pants, and her hands slide underneath, warm against my stomach. I suck in a breath at the contact.
I find the zipper at the back of her dress and slowly pull itdown. The sound of it in the quiet carriage seems as loud as a crack in the night. She watches me with blue sparkling eyes as I slide the dress off her shoulders, revealing smooth skin and a burgundy lace bra that matches the dress.
“Holiday.”
“You like it?” She sounds breathless.
“I love it. I love it on you. I’ll really love it off you, too.” I kiss along her collarbone, tasting her sweet skin. “I’m still in love with you.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, but I don’t take them back. They’re true. They’ve always been true.
“I’m still in love with you, too,” she confesses. She makes a sound that might be a laugh or a sob and pulls me back to her mouth. We’re kissing like we’re drowning and this is our air. Like we’ve been starving for fifteen years and this is our first meal.
My hands slide up her thighs, pushing her dress higher. Her skin is soft against my rough palms. I reach the edge of her panties, and she arches against me.
“Lucas.” She gasps.
“Tell me to stop.” I kiss down her neck, sucking at the spot that always made her crazy. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
“No. I can’t. I want you.”
That’s all the permission I need. My fingers slide under the edge of her panties, and she’s so wet, so ready for me. I groan against her neck, and she makes this desperate sound that goes straight through me.
We’re really doing this, right here in this carriage at my brother’s wedding, and I don’t care. I need her like she’s my only sustenance.
I’m fumbling with my belt when there’s a knock on the carriage door.
We both freeze.
“Lucas!” Hudson’s voice comes through the door. “You in there?”
“Fuck,” I breathe against Holiday’s neck.
“Ignore him,” she whispers, her hands still working at my belt.
The door opens and Hudson’s face appears in the gap. He takes one look at us and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.
My shirt is untucked and half unbuttoned. Holiday’s dress is unzipped and pulled down to her waist. Her hair is completely destroyed, not to mention me being positioned between her legs. Our lips are swollen and red. We look exactly like what we are—two people who were about thirty seconds away from having sex.
Hudson grins slowly. “Well. This is very interesting.”
“Go away,” I say.
Holiday closes her eyes tight, like she can wish Hudson away. She lifts her dress to cover herself.
