Page 32 of The Holiday Grump
She held my elbows, and my arms flexed. I pictured myself backing her against the wall and shutting that smart mouth with mine so she couldn’t say anything else. Seeing if she still had stupid jokes left.
I hadn’t flirted with anyone in years. She’d forced meinto this back-and-forth, like I’d been dragged onto a battlefield with no armor.
“I use them for elbowing people away,” I said roughly. “But some people are hard to shake.”
“Like me?” She bit into her lower lip, smiling.
“You’re the worst.” My eyes assessed the straps on her overalls and the small buttons on the side. Unfasten. Undo. Unhook.
She let go of my elbows, slowly dragging her fingers back. They hovered over my chest as her eyes held mine. I could have told her to stop. I could have left the room. But I wasn’t going to, and she knew it. Her touch had awakened something I thought was dead and gone. She’d coaxed out a part of me that wasn’t burdened by reason.
At that moment, she held all the cards. The only form of restraint I had left was inaction. If she stepped back, I’d step back.
So I waited, completely at her mercy.
CHAPTER 12
Noelle
I’d done plenty of stupid things in my life, but none so blatantly idiotic as this. As I leaned in, I could practically hear the alarm bells. This man had offered me a place to stay. Technically, he was my landlord. And I was thinking about kissing him.
The cloth slipped from my hand. My fingers curled into his ridiculous cardigan. Would he push me away? Would he bolt? He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. Being with him felt like time travel, like I’d stumbled into a bygone era and found a man who shouldn’t exist.
I should have let go. I wasn’t ready for this. But my better judgment had left the building. It had probably driven out of town and fled the state. I’d been alone for so long, starving for touch—forsomething.
He held still, his breathing as ragged as mine, lips parted.
I leaned a little closer. “I’m so curious,” I whispered. “It’s terrible. It’s like a disease.”
“A disease?”
“You know, whatever it was that killed the cat. I have it.”
His mouth curved faintly. “That’s quite the ailment.”
His chin brushed my nose, and I tilted my head, aligning my lips with his. My breath came in shallow gasps.
“We really shouldn’t.” A smile ghosted my lips. “It’s probably better in my imagination anyway.”
Still, I leaned closer, as if pulled by an invisible force.
Our lips brushed, like striking a match, and everything ignited. His hands cupped my face, and he brought our lips together.
Oh. My. God.
I hadn’t expectedthis. Not the rush, nor the intensity. His mouth landed on mine, and he grabbed me like he’d been waiting his whole life. One of his hands slid under the back of my overalls, tracing a slow path up my spine, and my skin erupted in goose bumps. I let out a small, broken sound into his mouth, and he backed me against the wall. Our tongues met, and a bolt of pleasure shot through me.
It felt so much better than I’d ever imagined. Fire and sugar and spice. My whole body hummed on a higher frequency, my heartbeat settling between my thighs, amplifying the hunger I couldn’t hold back or hide.
I grasped at his cardigan, pulling him closer, scared this moment might vanish. That he might come to his senses and step away. The kiss deepened, turning raw and hungry. For a moment, nothing else existed. Only a white-hot, pulsing need. A desperate desire.
And then?—
He jolted. His hands fell away, and he stumbled backward.
“I can’t.”
I blinked, dazed. “You can’t?”
