Page 18 of Mr. Merry Ex-Mas
She comes to an abrupt stop, right in front of her small one-bedroom apartment by the bay. The one I could find with my eyes closed.
She looks up at me, the street lights shining down on her. She opens her mouth like she wants to argue with me, but then she doesn't. She steps up onto her porch, and I follow. She unlocks her door and pushes it open, and when she turns to look at me, her eyes are vulnerable.
“Are you coming in?”
I pause. Not because I’m unsure, but because I wantherto be sure. “Are you sure you want me to?” I ask.
She exhales, like it takes effort. “No. But I want to be.”
That’s all I need.
The door swings open.
And suddenly, it’s not cold anymore.
She walksin without looking back, like she’s daring me to follow or just hoping I will. Honestly, I don’t know which is worse. I step inside and close the door behind me, and suddenly, the sound of the bar, Starlight Bay, and the rest of the world is gone.
In here, it’s just her and me. She hangs her coat and kicks off her shoes. The house is quiet, filled with unanswered questions.
She rounds the corner into the living room and turns slowly. Her eyes are locked on mine, her chin lifted, but she doesn’t say anything.
So, I do what I do best. Lighten the mood with a little banter.
“This your usual Friday night routine? Wine, gala drama, and dragging your ex home?”
Sadie raises a brow. “I don’t remember any dragging.”
“With an ass like yours, you’d never have to drag me. I’d follow you anywhere.”
She laughs, but it’s quieter now. “You forgot the bit about it all leaving a hangover tomorrow.”
I pause in front of her. “But sometimes it’s worth it.”
She pulls me in, fisting the front of my shirt like she needs to hold on to something solid. Our mouths crash, and memory and frustration all wrapped into one mess of a kiss take over. It's not sweet or easy. It’sus.
I walk her backward until her spine hits the wall. Her gasp reminds me she’s really here, and I press closer, hand sliding beneath the hem of her sweater.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” I murmur against her neck. “Like vanilla and every bit as perfect as those spreadsheets you keep.”
She exhales a breathy laugh. “And you still kiss like a man who thinks chaos is a personality.”
“You love it.”
Her hands are on my skin now, under my shirt, over my back, pulling me harder against her like she can’t get close enough. She grinds against me, and I feel ten feet tall.This.This is where I love her the most. She’s so lost in the feel of what she wants, what she needs, and I’m the only one who can give it to her.
Andfuck, do I want to give it to her.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing like we’ve just run a mile, she whispers, “We’re still a terrible idea.”
“Then why do you taste like everything I’ve always wanted?”
She closes her eyes, letting my words wash over her, before jumping into my arms again. I laugh low, nipping at her neck, and her loud moan has me hard as a rock.
“You’re on fucking fire for me. Don’t deny it.”
She pushes at me but pulls me back at the same time, her head tipped back, giving me access to her skin. “Don’t fucking talk.”
I chuckle as I lead her down the hallway to her room—the same hallway we’ve walked a hundred times. Her fingers wrap around my wrist as she switches spots and leads me into the bedroom. The lights dim, but I can see her bed is perfectly made, and oh, how I can’t wait to wreck it.
