Page 75 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
His eyes flick down to my lips and then back to my eyes, like he’s not sure if he should, but his body’s already made up its mind.
I’m not sure what happens next, whether I close the distance or if he does, but before I can even take a breath, his lips are on mine.
It starts as a spark, a playful dare, like we’re both testing the waters, even though we’ve been here before, more than once. But tonight, his lips are warm and surprisingly soft, a little teasing, but it’s enough to make my heartbeat faster, my entire body tingling with the heat between us.
I almost laugh, but then it deepens. His hand brushes my arm, and suddenly the world is spinning.
Everything I thought I knew about spreadsheets, about focus, about logic… gone. There’s only this kiss.
Ryder’s lips move against mine, a little impatient, like he can’t get enough. I don’t want him to.
The kiss deepens even further, and I feel my body respond instinctively, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of him all around me. His lips move urgently, like he’s been holding this back as much as I have.
He slides his hand down to my waist, pulling me so close that the space between us is nonexistent. I can feel the thrum of his heartbeat against mine, and the rush of desire floods my veins.
Ryder’s hand slips beneath my shirt, the warmth of his touch sending shivers across my skin. His fingers trace the curve of my waist, making my breath catch in my throat. I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, to close the space between us completely.
His lips break away for a fraction of a second, just enough for me to gasp for air. But then he’s kissing me again, this time more insistent, his tongue brushing against mine in a way that makes me dizzy with need.
I feel his breath on my skin, hot and ragged, as if he’s trying to catch his own breath, but he can’t stop. Neither of us can.
“Ryder,” I murmur, the word slipping from my lips like a plea.
He groans, his hands pulling me even closer, his fingers threading through my hair as if he wants to keep me right here, in this moment, where nothing else matters but the two of us.
His mouth travels down to my neck, and I tilt my head back, letting him explore the sensitive skin there. A shiver runs through me, and I can feel the tension coil in my belly, tightening with each touch, each kiss.
This… this is precisely what I’ve been craving.
His lips find mine again, urgent, desperate, like we’ve been starved for this. I lose myself in it, the taste of him, the heat ofhim, until my hands are on his chest, pushing his shirt off, eager to feel every inch of his skin.
He groans again, breaking away only to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. The way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing in the world, sends a rush of heat through my body.
It’s just the two of us. And neither of us is holding back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ryder
December 15th
I kiss her harder,deeper, desperate to close the distance between us. I’m drowning in her jasmine scent, the taste of whiskey lingering on her tongue, and I don’t ever want to come up for air.
I let her strip the shirt off my shoulders, the fabric catching briefly on my elbows before she tosses it somewhere behind us. Her hands skate over my chest, palms flat against my feverish skin, fingers tracing the ridges between my ribs.
“This okay?” she murmurs as she pulls back to meet my eyes, her pupils blown wide, leaving only a thin ring of amber. “You feeling okay?”
I nod so enthusiastically my neck cracks. “Never better.”
Her nails, painted that chipped midnight blue I’ve been staring at all night, scrape lightly along the trail of hair below my navel as she frees me from my jeans.
When her hand wraps around my cock, the contrast of her cool palm against my burning flesh makes me hiss through clenched teeth.
“Fuck, Sunny…”
She leans in, her breath ghosting over the sensitive tip before her tongue darts out, pink, wet, glistening, and licks the head with powerful slowness, savoring me.
I jerk in her grip, hips twitching involuntarily, and her smirk is wicked, dimpling her right cheek. I thread my fingers through her hair, feeling the silky strands catch between my knuckles, not pushing, just holding.
