Page 130 of Bossy Wicked Prince
He puts his hands over mine, looking down at me like he’s not sure I’m actually here.
“You have no idea?—”
I don’t let him finish. I jump him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and pressing my mouth to his.
It takes Nate a second to catch up with what’s happening. I can tell when he’s wrapped his head around it—that I’ve forgiven him, and I’m kissing him—when his hands move under my hips. He turns to press me against a set of shelves, which aren’t stable. He stumbles slightly and a few boxes fall to the ground, but he doesn’t stop, he kisses me harder, like he’ll die if he stops.
Another box falls and he groans into my mouth.
Another, and his grip on my waist tightens like he never wants to let go.
A loud shatter sounds when the next box falls, and he pulls away from me, dazed, looking at the mess on the floor like he has no idea how it got there.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry?—”
I snort.
“Don’t be.” I kiss him again, softer, sweet. “I know you’ll replace what you broke.”
Nate grins and tries to correct his mistake with the shelves, turning around to press me against the opposite wall. Except he trips, sending more boxes tumbling. A bag of powdered sugar, which someone must have been using for Christmas cookies, falls on our heads, coating us both in a fine white dust.
He lets go of me then with a low chuckle that makes my belly flutter as he sets me down on the floor. “I’m sorry, Kitten, I keep messing this up?—”
“No.” I laugh. “It’s perfect.”
He’s sort of adorable without his usual strict composure. I could get used to it.
Nate runs a hand through his sugar-covered hair. “So does this mean you forgive me? For real?”
“Yes. And now that I have Rupert’s approval, I’d very much like you to be my boyfriend.”
His eyes light up. “We can start there.”
I kiss him again, and this time, it tastes even sweeter from all the sugar on our lips.
“We should probably go get ourselves cleaned up,” he murmurs against my mouth as our lips part, shooting me a wicked grin. “I did just get a new rain head installed in my ensuite back at the apartment.”
My mind instantly supplies me with the image of Nate, wet and naked in the shower. Heat floods through my body.
I grab his hand, weaving my fingers together with his. “Well, I do love the rain.”
40
CAT
We stumble into Nate’s apartment, still kissing, still touching each other. The ride here from the shelter wasn’t even ten minutes, but it was still too long.
I’m ripping his Christmas sweater off before we make it three steps from the elevator. Nate chuckles again, and the sound makes my chest swell.
“Impatient, aren’t you?”
“Can’t have my boyfriend spilling sugar all the way into the apartment.”
I toss his sweater and undershirt to the floor so I can run my hands over his chest. His muscles look more pronounced under his skin, and I wonder if his appetite has sucked this month, too. We’ll have to eat plenty of croissants and pain au chocolats to make up for it, and that’s fine by me.
While I grip at his back, Nate pulls my hair out of its braid and runs his fingers through the curls. “Fuck, I missed this.” He kisses my temple. “I missedyou.”
He kisses my cheekbone. “Your smell.” Then my jaw. “Your warmth.”
