Page 39 of Sunny Goes Cold Turkey
We can’t do this. I’m going to ruin everything. It kills me, but I draw back.
My movement does something to Sunny. One of her hands winds into my hair and the other makes a fist in my t-shirt and she pulls me to her like I’m in trouble. And I am. Her kisses are wild and urgent now, and I’m having a hard time remembering why I started to back away. Her lips are so soft. She feels right. How can something this good ruin anything?
I’m giving in.
She must sense my surrender, because cautious, demure Sunny is gone. This new, crazed version of her yanks me deeper into the closet until we tumble into the wall, surrounded by her dresses and the smell of her perfume. I find the soft spot under her jaw and kiss a line down her throat. She shudders, pulling me closer with the hand that is tangled in my hair.
“I haven’t given you your birthday gift,” I mumble against her skin between kisses—my weak effort at distraction.
I feel her laugh under my lips more than hear it. “Is that not what this is?” Her fingers stroke through the hair at the base of my neck, sending chills down my arms.
Focus, Anders.“Nope. I have something fun for you. Two things, actually.”
Her lips find my earlobe. “This is fun.” Her sigh tickles my hair.
Okay, this has to stop. I can handle uptight, librarian Sunny. Holding her off was painful, but possible. Manageable. But kiss-crazed, wild Sunny? I am powerless against her. I’m losing control of myself, and that’s more dangerous than anything. I have to do something.
“Can I give it to you?”
“You didn’t need to do anything.” She sighs against my neck.
I pull away, holding her at arm’s length for safety. Her innocent eyes are killing me, half-lidded and staring up behind her glasses. She’s still breathing heavily, and it makes me want to steal her breath some more.
I shake my head to clear it. “One of the things is outside, but I have one right here.”
“Ooo, outside gift and inside gift,” her velvety voice murmurs. She is absolutely not the same woman who blushed over this bare-chested poster five minutes ago. “Inside gift first.”
I wrangle my phone out of my back pocket and my stomach lurches when I see that the screen is bright. Apparently, I’m four minutes and seventeen seconds into a phone call—with Oliver.Dang.
I jam my finger onto the little red phone icon to end the call. The phone buzzes in my hand immediately. It’s Oliver calling, of course. That’ll be a fun conversation we can have later. I swipe to reject the call and open my browser to find her gift.
Meanwhile, she drags her fingers down my forearms, tracing invisible lines and making me lose my mind. Wild Sunny is dangerous.
“You can’t do that.” I shake my head. My fingers stumble over my phone screen, making a mess of what I’m trying to do.
“Why not?” She isn’t stopping.
“Because I’ll do something stupid and get us both in trouble. And you’ll never get your birthday gifts.” I hold her hand in place over my wrist.
“You’re right. We better do the outside gift first, then. I can’t make any guarantees about my behavior. I need some fresh air.” She sighs. “And a slap in the face,” she adds, under her breath.
I chuckle. Her hair is messy, and her lips are swollen. I’m loving this unhinged version of her. I straighten her glasses. “Who could blame you” — I gesture toward my body — “when you’re faced with all of this?”
She shoves my shoulder. “All right, that does it. Get out of my closet, Anders Beck.”
She reaches for the knob, but the door doesn’t budge. She rattles the handle, but still nothing.
“Oh crap. Crappity, crap, crap,” she grinds out, twisting the knob. It turns, but the door won’t open. She rattles and shakes the thing. No dice. “Crap on a cracker.”
I’m not the smartest man, but I sense that this is the wrong moment to laugh. “Locked?”
“Yep. The stupid thing always sticks from this side. I can't believe I forgot.” Her head drops in defeat. “We need to call someone to come let us out. Ugh.”
“I think I’d rather take off the doorknob than do that. You have a screwdriver or something?”
“Do I look like someone who keeps a screwdriver on her person?”
This time I do laugh, but I try to soften the blow by kissing the back of her hand. She’s kind of irresistible. “Okay. Who’s the least embarrassing person we can call?”
