Page 34 of Hostile for the Holidays

He’s going to make me say it.

“Jasper, wait.” I groan like a petulant child because that’s what he brings out in me. “I need to know.”

He stops walking and turns around. A moment later, he’s right in front of me, so close I can feel the warmth from his body and it makes me shiver. Or maybe that’s because flecks of snow have started to fall from the sky and have landed on my face.

“What do you need to know, Stella?” Jasper asks.

For once, I swallow my pride and tell him the truth.

“I need to know if it was a fluke. A good kiss in the moment that can’t be replicated. It’s data collection. For science.”

Okay, maybe it’s only part of the truth.

Fine. One-quarter.

But outright telling Jasper that I want his lips on mine for no good reason other than it felt fucking fantastic is not going to happen.

“What are you going to do with the information?” he asks. “This data collection.”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll need at least five to ten business days to process.”

“We don’t have that kind of time, Stella.” His brows pull down and his lips pull into a firm line. He looks so serious, like this is a project he could get on board with if not for the time constraints.

“Fine,” I relent. “I don’t know what I’ll do with the information, but I need a bigger sample size.” I’m getting whiny again, which I hate, because it makes me seem desperate. I am desperate, but again, that’s something Jasper can never know.

He steps closer, one hand slipping through the front of my open coat and wrapping around my back. It feels so good to have his hands on me again.

A moment later, with Jasper guiding me, we’re moving backwards until my back is pressed flush against the brick of the garage wall.

“You want another kiss?” He asks.

I swallow and nod.

Jasper’s face inches closer, but I keep my eyes on him. I need to know what kind of trickery he’s got up his sleeve.

“Close your eyes, Stell.”

I don’t plan to, but the impact of his lips on mine a moment later has my eyelids falling closed.

This kiss is different than the one in the bar, and my brain logs every distinction.

Soft, yet all consuming. Like fire melting new fallen snow. The heat of a roaring fireplace with the gentleness of the fleece blanket you’d curl up next to it in. And all the wicked delight of sneaking the holiday chocolates your mom asked you not to touch.

I wrap my arms around Jasper’s neck, pulling him deeper into me. Desperate to dive beneath the surface of this sweet kiss.

Like the strike of a match, the softness is replaced with urgency.

Our hands claw at each other’s clothes, our pelvises grind against one another. Jasper’s cock is rigid and greedily seeking friction against my stomach.

Now that’s a new development.

Jasper pulls back, his hands still firmly holding my hips but where they had been inviting me toward him a moment ago, now they are pressing me backward against the brick.

We’re both breathing so heavily, among the soft flakes of snow falling, puffs of air from our exhales swirl between us.

“Holy shit. What does this mean?” I ask.

Data collection is complete and all signs point to me being absolutely, one-hundred percent no denying it, attracted to Jasper.

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