Page 40 of The Night Before Grumpmas
How did this happen?
I remember so clearly how her constant optimism, that loud, infectious laughter, and her habit of filling every room with an energy I never thought I needed used to annoy me. And now?
Now she’s all I can think about. Her smile, those eyes, the way she gets under my skin and somehow soothes it at the same time. It’s like I’ve been caught in a whirlwind I didn’t see coming, and I’m not even sure I want it to stop.
This whole thing is so new to me—irritation turning into something more. Need, want . . . maybe even falling in love. And here I am, feeling like I’d crack open my chest just to let her in. It’s maddening. How did I go from wanting her out of my life to wanting her in every part of it?
I’m not in love. Yet. But I’m so close—so fucking close—and I’m ready to dive in, heart first. It’s her fault, though. She’s burrowed herself so deep into my thoughts, into my soul, and I can’t decide if that terrifies me or if it’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for.
After that kiss at the gala—the kind of kiss that alters your entire existence, maybe even your essence, we had to leave the ballroom. As soon as the kiss ended, I called the driver, promising him a hefty bonus if he could get us back to my place fast.
The moment we step into the lobby of my apartment building, something inside me flips. My hands have a mind of their own, drawn to her like a magnet. It’s like all the self-control I’ve been barely hanging onto just vanished the second we crossed that threshold.
Her laugh echoes softly through the empty hall, a sound so sweet it almost distracts me from what’s happening. Almost. Someone might see us, but I’m too far gone to care. My fingers find the curve of her waist as we head toward the stairs, brushing over the soft fabric of her dress. It’s delicate, but not as delicate as her skin. All I can think about is getting her out of it.
I catch her eyes, and my breath hitches. Her lips part slightly, and it’s game over for me.
“We have to go upstairs,” she giggles, gasping as if surprised by her own words.
“I can’t wait that long,” I mutter, my voice low, strained with the tension that’s been building all night.
“You have to,” she insists, but there’s that glint in her eyes, the one that says she’s having just as hard a time keeping it together.
Without thinking, I scoop her up in one quick move, cradling her in my arms. “Upstairs, you say?” I tease, carrying her like it’s no big deal.
She protests, though not very convincingly. “I can walk, you know. I have legs.”
“Not tonight you don’t,” I say, grinning. But then her lips find my ear, nibbling playfully at the lobe, and it nearly sends me stumbling up the stairs.
I grit my teeth, trying to hold it together. “You’re killing me here,” I manage to say, though it comes out rough, almost a groan.
“The grumpy neighbor is back,” she whispers, her lips trailing along my neck, slow and deliberate, like she’s savoring every second. Each kiss sends a burning heat through me, every nerve firing off in blissful agony. I pick up the pace, her teasing turning each step into its own kind of torture as her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer.
“The grumpy neighbor is going to eat you alive,” I murmur, my breath hot against her ear. “And when I’m done with you, you won’t be able to close your legs for days.”
She gasps, pressing her body closer to mine, squirming in my arms. Her playful smile falters for a second, and I can feel the shudder as my words sink in. The heat between us is almost unbearable.
“You keep saying you’re that good, but are you really that good?” she whispers, her lips brushing along my jaw, teasing me.
“Oh baby,” I growl, the desire in me barely held in check. “I’m going to make it perfect for you. You’re staying in my apartment until Monday morning—unless you can’t walk and have to stay indefinitely.”
By the time we reach the third floor, I’m barely holding it together. I set her on her heels to unlock the door, her smirk says she knows exactly what she’s doing, every touch driving me closer to the edge. As soon as I get her inside my apartment, it’s game over.
Guiding her through the door, I lock it behind us. Turning to her, my eyes take all her beauty in. “You’ve been teasing me with that beautiful face and tempting body all night,” I say, my voice low and playful, my fingers trailing along her jaw while slipping off her coat and she does the same with mine. “I need you. But if you want me to stop, just say the word.”
Her eyes are dark with desire as they lock on mine. “I don’t want you to stop,” she whispers, while unknotting my bowtie and pulling it from my collar. She pushes my tux jacket from my shoulders, her voice soft but full of want, and her hands undoing through the buttons of my shirt with urgency.
“That’s my good girl,” I murmur, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Now tell me what you want. Use your words, like a big girl.”
She hesitates for a second, her breath shaky, but I press her, my hand sliding lower. “Tell me,” I whisper.
“I want you to use your tongue,” she finally breathes, her voice barely a whisper, trembling with anticipation.
“Where do you want my tongue?” I ask, my fingers slipping under the hem of her dress. “Spell it out for me.”
She shivers, biting her lip as she whispers, “I want your tongue in my . . .”
“Say it,” I growl, teasing her, my breath hot against her skin. “Say you want my tongue in your cunt or it won’t happen, baby.”
