Page 58 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

She knocked. When he didn’t immediately answer, she wanted to shout his name. But she couldn’t disturb the other guests, so she knocked again. Harder this time. “Beau,” she whispered. “Beau.” Oh, dammit. Maybe he was a deep sleeper. Maybe he was—

The door flew open. “Margot?”

When she threw herself at him, he let out an “Oof.” But he caught her, his arms belting around her waist, his face tucking into her neck.

“I’m sorry. I totally overreacted.”

“To what, though? I don’t know what I did wrong.” He tugged her into his room and shut the door. “It’s been killing me all day because I had no idea what I’d done to upset you. What did I do? How did I hurt you?”

Shame burned a path from the back of her neck to the soles of her feet. “I woke up, and you were gone. And I just…” Her cheeks went hot.

“You thought I didn’t care. You thought I was just fucking around on my holiday—using you?”

“It was all in my head. I know that. I know you. That sounds ridiculous to say—”

“No, it doesn’t. We might not have known each other long, but…” With a shrug, he let out a huff of breath like he couldn’t explain it, it didn’t make sense, but here we are.

“I know. I know. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was all my stupid insecurities. But I saw the notes you left on the table, and I thought they were just the lyrics to the song, so I threw them out. But I panicked because I wanted to hold on to a piece of you and wound up digging them out of the trash. I read them. Beau.”

“It’s my fault. I’m an asshole. I take too long to make decisions. I didn’t know if I should wake you—”

“Wake me. Definitely wake me. I can always fall back asleep, but I can’t get back the moments I lose with you.”

He scraped both hands through her hair, pushing it off her face, and he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “You’re here.”

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you all day.”

“It’s okay.” Cupping her ass, he lifted her and backed her against the wall. “I fucked up, too. You gave me all of you, every inch, and I walked out as if I didn’t appreciate the spectacular gift that’s you.”

Spectacular gift?

It all came into sharp focus, what she’d done wrong. She’d married a man who loved her willingness to go along on his ride. She’d been the perfect companion, providing a comfortable home, well-behaved children, and well-planned travel. Thinking it was her role as a wife and a stay-at-home mother, she’d met his every need so he could achieve his dream of conquering the world.

But she’d never been his gift. She’d never been special just for being herself.

Yeah, because you never showed him. She’d only given him the parts she thought would make him happy.

With Beau, she’d been her true self. And he found her spectacular.

What a terrible, terrible mistake she’d made. She cupped the back of his neck and drew him to her mouth. She kissed him with a desire so overwhelming it didn’t fit inside her body.

With the flint of his hunger, desire ignited into lust.

No one had ever kissed her the way he did, like he was desperate, like he needed to reach deeper, to touch the places no one else had ever gone.

No one had ever treasured her.

As soon as he lowered her feet to the floor, he stripped off his jeans and T-shirt and got on his knees to pull down her pajama bottoms. He kissed her stomach, her inner thighs, and then, he lifted each foot, one at a time, and tossed the pants aside.

Her body trembled, and her legs barely supported her, but he was rising again, gripping her bottom, and lifting her, urging her legs to wrap around his waist. Feeding her deep, hungry kisses, he eased his hard cock inside her.

Every inch of her body tingled and went hot, the feeling so dazzling she could barely catch her breath. He fit her so perfectly, filling her completely, and the friction of his thrusts had her back arching as she cried out.

With his hands on her ass, he drove into her relentlessly, and when his breathing turned ragged, when his hands started trembling, he tilted her hips, allowing his cock to stimulate the sensitive patch that set her on fire.

He lowered his head into her neck and growled, “Get there. Fucking get there.”

A delicious sense of calm settled over her right when desire hit its peak, the clash so volatile that her climax burst from deep inside her core. Fiery sparks rained down on her, and she planted her hips tight against his and ground against him.

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