Page 39 of A Cozy Holiday
I barely feel the cold as we stumble outside. Snowflakes dust my hair and stick to my eyelashes. My sweaty skin instantly starts to crystallize.
“You’re gonna freeze in this excuse for a dress,” he says, hands already curving up my bare arms, raising goose bumps that have nothing to do with the temperature. “We both might without our jackets.”
“Then you better warm me up,” I challenge, pulling him away from the outdoor crowd and along the side of the house before curving my body to his.
He groans, but before he can answer, I shove him against the wall and kiss him. Not like last time. This is hard, messy, desperate, with teeth and lips and want tangled together. He moans into my mouth, low and ragged, and my chest presses against his like I might fuse into him. His hands find my assimmediately. He snaps the strap of my garter belt as if he’s been thinking about it all night.
“Fuck,” he growls, voice like velvet.
There’s a hazy, dangerous unknowing between us that makes my pulse quiver. His pupils expand, and thinking becomes impossible. He cups my ass, lifting my dress inch by inch. Heat coils low in me.
Without warning, he lifts me, shifting my weight until my back meets the wall. Air hisses from my lungs, and I wrap my legs around him instinctively. I bite his lip, hard, while my hands trace the planes of his chest, along the edge of his jaw, down to the strap of his belt.
“I—” I hiccup, breathless, tipsy. Reckless. “I need you so bad.”
He chuckles. “You’ve been craving this all week, huh?”
“Don’t make me think in full sentences.” My hand drags lower, stroking the bulge in his jeans. “I…I can’t wait anymore.”
I feel him smirk against my earlobe. “How bad, Joy? Tell me.”
I feel alive. Blazing. Unstoppable.
“Please,” I whisper, voice trembling from the alcohol and desire. “So bad I can barely think straight.”
Jamie’s hand wanders around the outside of my thigh. “You think begging is going to help your case?”
“Maybe it will,” I moan. “Maybe I want you to make me beg.”
“You like being reckless, huh?” His fingers hover at the edge of my lace panties, maddeningly close to where I ache for him most. He sucks in a breath.
“Only when it’s worth it,” I admit, swaying against him, melting into his heat.
“You’re intoxicating.” His mouth hovers over mine, not quite kissing. “And I’ve been thinking about doing this since I first saw you.”
“Then why wait?” I snatch his cowboy hat and plop it on my head, grinning wickedly. “You’ve got your chance now.”
“We’re drunk, Joy.”
“I don’tcare.” I kiss him harder, my teeth dragging across his bottom lip.
“Slow—”
“I don’t want slow, Jamie.” My hands fumble with his belt buckle.
He catches my wrists. Pins them gently above my head with one hand. His restraint is brutal, beautiful. “No.” It’s like a bucket of cold water. I want to scream. “We can’t.” His forehead presses against mine, breath ragged. “I’m desperate to remember every second of this. Every sound you make. Every way you come apart for me.”
My chest heaves. “Then make me remember.”
“Trust me.” His free hand ghosts along my swollen lips. “When I finally get you in my bed? I’m gonna take my time. Learn every inch of you. Make you come so many times, you’ll forget your own name.” His voice drops impossibly lower. “But our first time won’t be a drunk fuck against a wall while the whole town’s inside.”
Heat floods through me despite the cold. Despite the frustration.
“Don’t think I won’t be thinking about how wet you are for me, though.” He releases my wrists, steadying me as my legs fall down. His hand lingers on my hip. “How you taste. How you’d sound saying my name when you—”
“Jamie.”
He grins. “Yeah. Just like that.”
