Page 78 of Butter My Biscuit

“Are you ready to make a wish?” I ask when we count down from ten.

“Yes. What about you?” She places her arms on my shoulders.

I nod, knowing exactly what Iwantthis year.

“Three. Two. One. Happy New Year!” everyone yells.

I place my hand on her cheek. “Happy New Year, princess.” I slide the back of my fingers down her cheek as she licks her lips. I’m already drunk from the faint scent of her perfume.

“Happy New Year. Make a wish,” she whispers.

As “Auld Lang Syne” plays, our mouths desperately crash together—a kiss I’ve wanted all night.

Slowly, I paint my lips across hers, and she opens her mouth, giving me all the permission I need to taste her tongue. Together, we’re fire, burning the other to ash.

As everyone sings, I grab Grace’s hand and lead her upstairs into the first empty bedroom. Once the door is closed, I press her against the cool wood, and her leg instinctively wraps around me.

“I have to have you again,” she whispers.

“Fuck. Yes,” I mutter, needing her like I need sunshine in the winter.

My hand slides down below her skirt, and I lift it, pressing my fingertips on the outside of her panties.

My name falls from her lips in a whisper as she fists the opening of my suit jacket. She sinks against me, and her wetness seeps through the fabric. She doesn’t have to admit she likes kissing me; her body gives her away every damn time.

“What are you doin’ to me?” she admits shyly.

I chuckle, looking down at my hard cock. “I can ask the same thing.”

Fireworks pop outside, and music plays downstairs, but in this room, it’s only the two of us, and the greedy demand to have more takes over.

Lifting her, I carry her to the bed, laying her down. She looks at me, her long, dark hair splayed around her head, and I meet her on the mattress. I position myself between her legs, and we kiss as she rocks against me. The only thing stopping us from having sex is the thin fabric between us. She runs her fingers through my hair as hushed pants release from her mouth.

I nibble on her ear, and just as I’m about to say something, the door swings open. I look over at it just as Kinsley turns on the light. Our eyes meet, and then she looks at Grace. Then, she flicks the lights off and shuts the door.

Grace sits up in a panic.

“Shit,” I whisper, pulling away from her. “Shit.”

“You didn’t lock the door,” Grace asks, nearly frantic. “Do you think she’s going to say anything?”

If my sister had walked in five minutes later, I have no doubts I’d have been buried deep inside of her.

I shake my head. “Not sure. But I do know she ain’t gonna let either one of us live it down for the rest of our lives.”

We sit on the bed, looking at each other in the dark. The tension is so tight that it nearly chokes me.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

She sighs. “Fuck yes. But we can’t leave the same way we came in.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not doing the walk of shame.” Then, she glances at the window.

15

GRACE

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