Page 58 of Yule Know It When You See It
“I love that idea. See?” Theo’s face appears in mine, and she kisses me, soft and sweet. “This is why I wouldn’t feel right not having you on that byline with me, Ax.”
“Thank you for that, by the way.” I touch one corner of her jaw and drag my finger to the other side. “You hungry?”
“I am actually. Burnt a lot of calories the past few hours.” Lust plays in her gaze, and she nibbles her lower lip.
“In that case—” I stand, letting the blanket fall to the floor, and watch her gaze fall straight to my crotch. “—I better fuel you up. Because the night is young, Romance. And I’m not nearly doneravishingyou.”
Theo gulps as she pans her eyes up my stomach and lands on my face. She scrapes her nails over her throat as I pass her, and I can feel her burning stare on my ass. Chuckling to myself, wondering how I’ve suddenly become such a lucky bastard, I grab the bag of chestnuts from my cupboard, a bottle of red wine, and two glasses. The goods now loaded in my hands, I return to find her typing away on the iPad again, a concentrated wrinkle forming on her forehead. I don’t dare interrupt her and watch from afar, grinning at how the tip of her tongue ever so slightly sticks from the corner of her mouth, her right foot bounces, and she doesn’t blink. Not once.
“Has anyone ever told you it’s incredibly hot to watch you work?” I squat by the fire, resting everything in an organized pile.
“And the fact I’m naked doesn’t help at all, right?” Theo flashes me a sultry smile, taps a few more times on the iPad, and then it’s off and tossed behind her onto the couch.
I’m still squatting and resting my elbows on my thighs, grinning back at her. “Oh, it definitely does.”
She crawls toward me on her hands and knees like a tigress approaching her mate. Her lips are on mine, tongue teasing the seam of my mouth. “You really don’t lie, do you?”
I slip a hand to the back of her neck and rub our noses together. “My nose gets bigger if I do.”
“Nose, huh? I figured it’d be Axel Junior that gave you away.” Her eyes drop to the hard-on I got from watching her crawl toward me like that.
I suck in a breath and cup her face with my palms. “He nevereverlies.”
“We certainly shouldn’t keep him waiting.” She smiles against my mouth. Her fingers trail down my length, pulling a strangled snarl from the pit of my stomach.
A breath later, she’s cradled in my arms like I had her in the snow by the lake, and we’re on my bed. As the night dwindles, we roast chestnuts, get tipsy on wine, and screw like rabbits another two times. We’re sitting on my couch, staring at the tree and silent in each other’s arms, with the blanket covering us. The fire has started to die, and theJullog has almost burnt to ash. Her knees curl over my lap, and her head rests on my shoulder with a contented sigh. She drifts to sleep, the steady sounds of her deep, slumbering breaths almost lulling me to dreamland as well, but I force my eyes to stay open, knowing sunrise is at any moment.
When the sky turns dull shades of dark blue with slivers of yellow and orange, I gently shake Theo awake. Groggily, she smacks her lips together and rubs the heel of her palm against her eye. “Did I fall asleep? Did I miss it?”
“You didn’t miss it. Look.” I nudge my chin at the windows as the sun peeks over the horizon.
All tiredness falls away from her, and she sits up straight, marveling at the natural light art the sun provides. Purply hues mixed with a fiery red spill across the sky nestled between two skyscrapers.
Theo wraps her arms around one of mine, nuzzling against me and resting her head on my shoulder. “HappyJul, my Viking.”
A tightness forms in my chest over the depths I’ve managed to fall for this woman. I’m falling, plummeting, with no desire to reach the ground because I’m perfectly content with making her my whole world if she lets me.
“HappyJul, Romance.” I nestle my head atop hers, and as the sun fully blazes the Chicago skyline, we fall asleep in a cozy embrace.
The past twenty-four hours feel akin to a fever dream. I’ve lived through the moments, have experienced the sights, and smells, andfelteverything. But such euphoria and blissful happiness seem imaginary somehow. We fell asleep no sooner had the sun risen, having stayed awake all night, and I’m the first to wake at one o’clock in the afternoon. When my eyes flutter open, finding Axel still fast asleep, I don’t make a sound or dare to move because I want to watch him. And not in some creepy way, I just enjoy seeing him in this intimate, vulnerable state.
His breaths are deep and slowed, his arm resting comfortably around my shoulders. His lips are slightly parted, and a dull snore escapes from his throat, his head turned at an odd angle from the couch. He looks so peaceful, so serene—a stark contrast to the tall, hulky, Viking persona I’d given him. When he stirs, I let my eyes fall shut, pretending I’m still asleep.
He grumbles but stills suddenly as if he doesn’t want to wake me. I save him the trouble by lazily opening my eyes and cooing against his side. “What time is it?”
“After one,” Axel answers, his voice gravelly when he first awakes, and the deeper pitch of it has my insides collapsing over each other.
“I guess that’s what happens when you stay up until six in the morning, hm?” Chuckling, I dip my hand under the blanket, seeking the warmth of his bare chest, humming when I find it.
Axel groans and rubs his eyes with one hand, stifling a yawn. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but we need to wrap up the stories. Simone said she needs it in hand by the end of businesstoday, which is in four hours.”
I join in his mumbles of groans before I dramatically flop to my back on the couch cushion. “I really don’t want to go into the office today.”
“We don’t have to.” Axel appears over me, caging me in with his burly Scandinavian arms and smiles. “I can grab my laptop, and we can access the shared drive from it. Submit the finished product right from this couch and still naked as the day we were born.”
Axel’s beard has become unkempt from our escapades and sleep, so I comb my fingers through it. “Do you have coffee?”
“Iama writer.” He does a sort of snorting chuckle and traces a thumb over one of my eyebrows.
