Page 83 of Nice Guys Don't Kiss Like That At Christmas
His eyes darken as his gaze drops to my mouth.One hand braces against the wall while the other cups my jaw.
“You know what Liv would say,” he murmurs.“Sometimes the brain wants what the brain wants.”
“Pretty sure she’d say zombie appetites are insatiable.”
“And she’d be right.”
When his mouth claims mine, it’s not tentative.My hands slide into his hair as his tongue traces my lips.He tastes like peppermint and possibility, and I’m desperate for more.
“So, one night could be...one night and one more?”I manage when we break apart.
The smile that spreads across his face is pure sin.“One more night barely scratches the surface, Foster.”
“You might be right.”
Adam’s laugh is low and warm as he takes my hand, tugging me outside the coat closet, ignoring ciders and the looks and back toward the B&B.“Come on, Foster.Let’s go.”
The Travel Lovers reviewer is definitely taking notes as we hurry through the entryway toward the stairs.Barely through our room door, he presses me against it.His stubble scrapes deliciously against my neck, sending electric currents between my thighs.His hands grip my hips with possessive pressure that makes me gasp, then lift me higher.My legs wrap around him, creating friction exactly where I need it.
“Do you have any idea,” he breathes against my throat, “how hard it was watching you with those bells?Hearing them jingle every time you moved?”
“Cruel and unusual punishment,” I agree, my fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt.“Practically a HIPAA violation.”
He laughs against my skin, the vibration sending shivers down my spine.“Only you would bring healthcare regulations into foreplay.”
“You like it,” I whisper.
“I like you,” he corrects, carrying me toward the bed with intent that makes my nervous system light up like that tree outside.“Every ridiculous, medical-jargon-spouting inch of you.”
He lays me down with surprising gentleness, but his eyes are dark with hunger as he follows me down, covering my body with his.The weight of him, the heat, the way his hips settle perfectly between my thighs.Well, it’s official: my clinical brain goes completely offline.
“I want to see you,” he murmurs, his hands sliding under his hoodie.“All of you.”
I lift my arms, letting him pull the hoodie over my head.His sharp intake of breath when he sees my lacy black bra is more satisfying than any perfectly charted vital sign.
“You’ve been wearing this all day?”His voice is rough, almost reverent.
“Hmm-hmm.And I have the red-laced panties you admired the other day,” I admit, another truth that slips out without proper vetting.
His mouth is on mine again, consuming me like I’m essential for survival.Heat pools low in my belly as his hands cup my breasts through the lace.His thumb grazes my nipple and I gasp, the sensation almost too intense, every nerve ending tingling wherever he touches.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.“So fucking beautiful.”
“My vibrator never says things like that,” I whisper, then immediately want to crawl under the bed.
Adam laughs against my skin, sending shivers straight to my core.“Adam Pro has been officially outperformed,” his voice drops.“Though I’m happy to compare techniques.”His fingers trail along my pants, and my mental product comparison chart vanishes.
“Unfair advantage,” I gasp as his hand slips lower.“You’ve got...manual...dexterity...”
“Good thing I’m very thorough with user feedback,” he murmurs.
I arch into him, my hips seeking his with an urgency I couldn’t suppress if I tried.
We’re a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing, his hands seemingly everywhere at once.
Then his phone buzzes.Once.Twice.Three times.
“Ignore it,” I breathe against his lips.
