Page 47 of Holly Ever After

The kiss isn't just a meeting of lips—it's a merging of years filled with tension, misunderstandings, and underlying emotions neither of us had the courage to confront. His mouth is demanding, but not overpowering, coaxing my lips open for a deeper connection. Our breaths mingle, hot and fast, as if we're both trying to catch up to the reality of this moment.

One of his hands slides down the side of my neck, his fingers tracing a burning path to my shoulder, before it comes to rest at the small of my back, pulling me impossibly closer. His other hand still cradles my face, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek, as if he's amazed that I'm real. It's gentle and sweet, a sharp contrast to the fervor of the kiss, and that duality shakes me to my core.

The world narrows down to the sensation of his lips on mine, his tongue meeting mine in a dance as old as time yet new to us. I forget the cold, the people inside, the complicated mess our lives are. All that exists is this kiss, and for a brief, soul-shattering moment, it feels like coming home.

But then, reality crashes over me. I'm kissing Sean. I'm actually kissing him back. With that realization, I push him away, our chests heaving, eyes locked in a moment charged with...something. Three seconds pass. Three long, agonizing, life-changing seconds where I could walk away, but guess what?

I don’t.

Then I pounce on him because I don’t have energy to fight any more.

He grabs the back of my thighs, lifting me so I can wrap my legs around his waist, our lips meeting again in a kiss that's anything but calm. It's as if all the tension has all boiled over, and this, this right here, is the result. My back meets the wall, causing a shiver to crawl down my spine, and I'm thankful to the Christmas gods that there's no one out here to witness this lust-filled spectacle.

Because this is all it is, right?

It’s lust?

Right.

I haven't had sex in over six months. Sure, it’s been three months since my break-up from Adam, but we didn’t touch each other for months before then, and my body is crying out for touch. The touch just so happens to be Sean's.

What the fuck, Universe?

His hands move to either side of my head, pinning me against the wall, not that I have any intention of escaping. His lips travel to the curve of my neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses that make my head spin.

“See what you’ve done,” he growls against my skin, possessive and intense. “You drive me fucking insane, woman.”

Then his mouth is back on mine, consuming me, devouring every thought, every doubt, until there's nothing left but the overwhelming sense of need that's rushing through my veins. The crisp night air does nothing to cool the heat radiating off us. If anything, it only serves to stoke the fire.

I'm so absorbed in the feeling of him, the heat of his body pressed against mine, the intoxicating scent that's uniquely him, that for a moment, I forget where we are, who we are, and how complicated everything has always been between us.

The universe be damned. Right now, all that matters is this moment, this kiss, this undeniable attraction that neither of us can ignore any longer.

“Holly?”

My eyes snap open at the sound of another voice, my pulse hammering in my ears. Sean's grip on my thighs tightens, and his eyes darken as they meet mine, filled with a mixture of confusion and caution.

It’s then I hear my name again.

I look over Sean’s shoulder and…what the hell?

“Adam?”

His expression is twisted into a scowl. “Is this what you've been doing since you got back home? Whoring yourself around?”

Sean steps away, lowering me to the ground before helping me to right myself.

Adam stands there, looking out of place yet strangely poised, a stark contrast to the casual festivity going on around him. He's tall but not as tall as Sean, with sandy brown hair, cut neatly in a conservative style. He's wearing a tailored coat over a crisp white shirt and dark slacks, the epitome of buttoned-up corporate good boy. His eyes are narrowed in judgment, lacking any of the warmth or depth I once thought I saw in them.

“I need to speak to my fiancée,” Adam insists, his voice dripping with entitlement.

A humorless laugh escapes my lips. “Fiancée? Really?”

Sean's eyes flash. “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

Adam scoffs. “That's a temporary situation.”

“Sounds to me like it's pretty permanent.”

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