Page 82 of Holiday Interference
His control snaps.
He fucks up into me with a force that has me clinging to his shoulders, my head falling forward onto his chest.
“You take me so good,” he mutters against my skin. “You look so fucking beautiful like this. Like you were made to ride me.”
The dirty words, the rhythm, theemotion—it all crashes together, and I fall apart again.
My climax hits sharp and fast, tearing through me as I cry out his name, shaking in his arms.
He follows with a rough curse, body tensing, then releasing in hot pulses deep inside me.
We collapse together.
Panting and sweaty. Wrapped around each other like we’ll never let go.
And maybe we won’t.
Because this doesn’t feel like lust.
It feels likehome.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cal
The timeron the oven dings just as I finish setting two plates on the counter.
Chicken, roasted potatoes, and something green just to balance it all out.
The apartment smells like rosemary, butter, and nerves.
I wipe my hands on a dish towel and glance around.
Candles lit, check.
Music low, an old R&B station humming soft through the speakers.
Check.
My heart’s doing this steady, traitorous pound that’s got nothing to do with cardio.
She’s been here nearly every night since that first night back.
She leaves a toothbrush in my bathroom, half her skincare on the counter, and a cardigan on the back of my couch.
But tonight feels different.
Christmas?Eve.
Something about it hums under my skin like expectation.
I walk to the window, watching the snow fall in lazy flakes over the parking lot lights.
But this time, it doesn’t stick. It’s just a little dusting that will melt by tomorrow, but it’s enough to make everything look softer.
I pace in front of the windows for a few minutes before heading back into the kitchen.
I adjust the temperature on the oven just to have something to do.
