Page 69 of Snowed In with Four Firemen
“Tanner…” Her voice is a strained gasp, but she doesn’t push me away. Doesn’t tell me to stop. Her head falls back against my shoulder, and I see her eyes flutter closed, her lips parting in a soft, breathless moan as I roll her nipples between my fingers. “We shouldn’t?—”
“Why not?” I growl softly, my mouth on her neck again, sucking lightly. “You’re tense, baby. All knotted up. Let me help.”
She whimpers, the sound going straight to my cock. I squeeze her breasts again, loving the way she arches into my touch, the way her breath catches.
“I don’t…I don’t know—” She gasps, her words dissolving into a moan as I pinch her nipples, her back arching against me.
“Shhh,” I murmur, turning her slightly so I can nip at her jaw, my hands still kneading her breasts. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”
Her hands fall limply to the counter, the frosting forgotten. I can feel her trembling under my touch, her body soft and pliant against mine, and I know I’ve got her.
I nuzzle her neck again, breathing in her scent, feeling the way her body shudders as I kiss my way up to her ear.
“Tell me, Emily,” I whisper, my voice low and dark. “Did he make you feel like this?”
She gasps, her whole body going tight, and I smile against her skin.
Because the answer is right there, in the way she trembles, in the way she moans my name.
The second I feel Emily start to turn in my arms, I loosen my grip just enough to let her move. I expect her to shy away, to scold me, to maybe even push me off after what I just pulled—but instead, she whips around, grabs me by the collar, and kisses me hard.
The move catches me completely off guard. For a heartbeat, I freeze, her lips demanding against mine, and then I’m all in, a groan rumbling up from my chest as I dive into the kiss, my hands flying to her waist to yank her closer. She’s fierce, her mouth hot and urgent, and I feel my pulse spike, my blood roaring as she takes control, kissing me like she’s the one who can’t wait, like she’s starving for me.
Hell yes.
I grab a fistful of her shirt, growling softly as I kiss her back just as hard, letting her feel exactly how much I want her. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss, and I take the opportunity to slide my tongue against hers, savoring the sweet, addictive tasteof her. My hands tighten on her waist, desperate to feel more, to touch every inch of her. The urge to lift her up onto the counter and have her right here, right now, is so strong it nearly blinds me.
But just as suddenly as she started, she pulls back, breathless with swollen lips. Her eyes blaze as she stares up at me, her chest heaving, and I blink, still dazed, still reeling from the force of that kiss.
“Emily…” I pant, my hands still clutching her waist. “What the hell was that?”
She smirks, a wicked glint in her eyes that sends a fresh wave of heat surging through me. “Just wanted to remind you of what you’re waiting for.”
I blink, my mind struggling to catch up. “Waiting for…?”
“You’re going to have to be patient,” she says, her tone sweet as she pulls away completely, brushing her hair back like she didn’t just rock my entire world. “We have to finish the cake.”
I gape at her, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. “You’re—are youseriousright now?”
“Very serious,” she replies primly, turning back to the frosting bowl like she didn’t just turn me into a desperate, throbbing mess. “We need to get this done before the rehearsal dinner. We’re going to be busy all evening, so we need to focus.”
I stare at her, my jaw clenched, my entire body strung so tight I feel like I might snap. “Focus,” I repeat, the word a frustrated growl.
“Yup,” she says, her smile infuriatingly calm, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’ll have to wait.”
Wait.She wants me towait.After kissing me like that, after teasing me to the edge and leaving me hanging, she’s just…what, expecting me to stand here and frost a goddamn cake?
“Emily…” I groan, my voice a low rasp. “You’re killing me.”
She just grins, picking up the spatula. “You’ll live.”
I narrow my eyes at her, my chest heaving. She’s messing with me—torturingme—and loving every second of it. And damn if I don’t love it, too.
“Fine,” I mutter, forcing myself to step back. “We’ll finish the cake.”
“Good,” she says brightly, turning back to the counter. But as she bends forward, her hips sway just a little more than necessary, her movements slow and deliberate, and I see the smirk tugging at her lips.
Goddammit. She’s doing thison purpose.
