Page 13 of What Happens This Christmas
Someone clearly didn’t know how to take a compliment.
My gaze followed him as he got in the car, shut the door, and went to start the engine. “Wait,” I called, the outburst having him lower his hand. “Maybe it’s our combined body heat, but I don’t need this coat right now.” I let it fall from my shoulders, revealing my exposed neckline, as I turned my body toward him, raking my teeth over my bottom lip delicately. Slowly. “Do you need yours?”
He furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes as they roamed over me before meeting mine. “Are you running a fever?”
No, Nick, I am not running a fever.“I just thought we could shed some clothes together.” I tapered my eyes.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” His rough cadence hit me square in the chest and invited goose bumps to pebble over my skin.
“God, Nick, you have no idea how—” I used to be more vocal in expressing what I wanted, but we were married, and he couldn’t know me better if he had gotten everything about me tattooed on his body.
He knew what I wanted. He knew how I liked it.
Time seemed to have stood still as his heavenly blue eyes focused on my face, slipping to my lips. My throat felt clogged with emotion, like even if I wanted to say anything, I couldn’t. I felt this overwhelming sensation that I didn’t know how to describe. It was in my veins. It was in my chest. It was in my heart. It was taking over my body. It was as though I could hear my blood pumping in my ears.
“Say it,” he demanded, reaching over and cupping my chin, his thumb pulling down on it in such a way that had my lips parting on a content sigh.
“None of those men were you.”
“Not exactly what I was thinking.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Let’s get something clear, Candy. You’re never going to have it better than this.”
That was what I was afraid of. Deep down, I think I always knew that. My heart was thundering, thundering, until it began racing, soaring so high that it was climbing into my throat.
He leaned in, possessively running his thumb over my bottom lip, swiping it once, twice, before finally locking eyes with me.
An unfamiliar feeling zipped through my body at a disturbing rate. My husband was about to kiss me. I would never be able to forget what his lips felt like on mine if my life depended on it. Soft. Warm. Commanding. Convincing.
What I wouldn’t give to feel those things now.
I reached between us and curled my fingers on the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. Obviously, he wanted us to be closer too, since he dragged his hands to the back of my neck and gripped it firmly. But he hesitated, and so did I, as if it were our first kiss.
Honestly, it’d been so long, it might as well have been.
He groaned and pulled back, the bolts of electricity running through me over the sheer anticipation coming to a screeching halt.
What was I doing?
I wanted to kiss my husband, who wanted a divorce…
In a parking lot…
Of a pub…
That I didn’t even want to go to.
I loosened my grip on his shirt as he backed up. Heaviness filled the air as we watched each other, studies in stillness. We both withheld things we wanted to say but couldn’t bring ourselves to.
“We should probably get going if we want to get to bed at a decent time.” I licked my lips, abandoning my desire to rub myfingers across them and imagine him having left them swollen. “I made plans with friends tomorrow.”
He scratched his chin and shook his head. “What friends?”
“Dotty and William.”
“I’d rather stub my toe repeatedly.”
