Page 46 of A Cozy Holiday
“I told you we were taking it slow.” He smacks my ass. “Or did you forget?”
“No.” I bite at his rough, calloused palm.
“I’ve been picturing you grinding over me since I saw you in that red slip. Did you wear that for me?”
I can only nod. He groans, and it’s my turn to cover his mouth. I stare into his deep, green eyes. Lost in the lust inside of them.
I leave my mind behind as I rock against him, feeling myself get wetter, and his pelvis bucks up to meet me. We find a rhythm together, clumsy and perfect and absolutely obscene, and I can feel my orgasm building. I haven’t had one since months ago when I used my vibrator in the shower. But with Jamie below me, my body hums with pleasure.
“Joy,” he chokes against my sternum. “I’m gonna—fuck, I can’t—”
His gaze never breaks from mine as his entire body goes rigid beneath me. His hold hardens at my hips, keeping me still while he convulses beneath me.
For a long moment, neither of us moves.
His heart hammers with mine. A hot liquid seeps through my pants between us.
He came in his jeans.
Jamie rubs the back of his neck. “That was, Jesus. I haven’t done that since high school. I haven’t had sex in years. I—” He cups the back of his bicep nervously.
I don’t know why, but I find it endearing.
I take his face in mine and kiss him. Pour everything I can’t say into it. Thank you for making me forget myself, for making me feel safe, for reminding me that I’m still sexy and desirable.
I pull back, kissing the corner of his mouth, his mustache soothing against my lips. I kiss his cheek and forehead. His emerald eyes have deepened to the color of pine trees.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“Better than okay.” His teeth find my ear. “That was—you’re—”
“Dad?”
We freeze.
Honey’s voice drifts down from upstairs, sleepy and small. “I had a bad dream.”
Jamie closes his eyes briefly, head tilted toward the stairs. “Duty calls.”
“Go.” I climb off his lap carefully, smoothing down my sweater. “She needs you.”
He stands, adjusting himself, curly hair completely destroyed from my fingers. “Will you still be here when I come back down?”
It’s too soon to be feeling so close to him, and I’m only here for a couple more weeks. I can’t get attached to whatever this is.
“I should probably head to the cabin,” I say gently. “Let you handle dad stuff. Plus”—I gesture at the couch, at us, at the evidence of what just happened—“we both need a minute to…process.”
“Dad?” Honey calls again, more insistent.
“Coming, chickadee!” He turns back to me and catches my hand. Brings it to his lips and kisses my knuckles. Such a simple gesture that somehow feels more intimate than everything we just did. “Thank you. For tonight. For the girls. For…all of it.”
My throat tightens. “Anytime, Cowboy.”
He grins, then jogs toward the stairs. Pauses halfway up. “Joy?”
“Yeah?”
“I really like you.” He says it simply, honestly. Like it’s the easiest truth in the world.
