Page 47 of Hashtag Holidate
His pupils dilated further, leaving just a thin ring of blue around black. “You sure?”
In answer, I wrapped my lips around him again, taking him deeper than before, and then deeper still. His control slipped, his hips moving in small, careful thrusts. I gripped his thighs, encouraging him, letting him know it was okay to let go.
“Maddox,” he chanted, like my name was the only word he remembered. “Fuck, I’m close. You should?—”
I ignored his warning, redoubling my efforts. I wanted to taste his release, wanted to know what Adrian Hayes looked like when he came undone.
The wind and snow battering the windows felt like a soundtrack to the loss of control I felt the more I touched and tasted this man. Each gust that rattled the glass felt like it was rattling my resolve to keep him at arm’s length.
The storm outside I could handle. But this one, the one in which I wanted to spend hours, days,yearsgiving this man pleasure, terrified me.
His hands tightened in my hair even more, a wordless warning. I glanced up, meeting his eyes as he finally let go. The intimacy of that moment—his gaze locked with mine as his release overtook him—was almost too much to bear.
Afterward, I sat back on my heels, wiping my mouth with theback of my hand. Adrian slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor across from me, breathing hard, looking thoroughly debauched. His hair was in utter disarray, his eyes glassy, his lips and skin swollen and red from my lips and stubble.
He’d never been more gorgeous.
“That was, uh…” he began, then seemed to lose the words.
“Yeah,” I agreed, not sure what else to say. The heat of the moment was fading, leaving an uncomfortable awareness in its wake.
And stark-raving terror.
What had I just done? What did it mean? Why the fuck hadn’t I kept my distance?
Adrian reached for me, his hand cupping my cheek. “Your turn,” he said with a soft smile that looked nothing like his Instagram grins.
I flinched. The tenderness in his touch terrified me more than the passion had.
This wasn’t supposed to be tender. This wasn’treal.
“I should head out.” I pulled away, and his hand flopped into his lap. “The storm’s easing up, and I need to get to the store in case anyone needs anything. It’ll take time for me to shovel my truck out.”
Confusion and hurt flashed across his face before he masked it with a fake-as-fuck smile. “Sure,” he said, pushing himself up from the floor. “Whatever you want.”
But what I wanted was the problem.
I wantedhim—not just physically, but in ways that would hurt when he inevitably left. In ways I couldn’t afford to indulge.
So I retreated behind the walls I’d built, blocking off the part of me that wanted to pull him close and never let go. It was easier that way. Safer.
Even if it felt like tearing something essential inside me.
Even if the walls only stayed up for mere moments before he tumbled them down again.
#TooMuchFlannel #LumberjackFantasyUnlocked #KneelingButNotSurrendering #PantsDownWallsUp #Ragrets
11
#MISTLETOEAMBUSH
ADRIAN
Wakingup the morning after Maddox’s extreme hot and cold routine was like waking up hungover… except without the benefit of a good drunk the night before.
Just when I’d thought he was willing to pull down his walls a little for me, he’d bolted like a scared mouse. I’d been left feeling a strangled mix of hollow and selfish.
I’d gotten mine, and he’d fucked right off without letting me reciprocate. Even if this thing between us had only been physical—and god knew I’d hoped for more than that—he should have at least let me even the score.
