Page 48 of Holiday Interference
Eventually, she lifts her head and brushes her mouth over mine in a kiss that’s quieter than the rest. Almost shy.
I don’t ask what this means.
I just hold her.
Because for the first time in a long damn time—I don’t feel alone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Noelle
It’sthe quiet that wakes me.
Not noise, just stillness.
The kind that hums under your skin, full and heavy, like the whole world is holding its breath and waiting for you to mess it up.
I don’t open my eyes right away. My body feels too good, too warm, suspended somewhere between a dream and reality.
Cal’s arm is draped low across my stomach, his hand splayed over my ribs like he’s claiming territory. His palm is rough, calloused in a way that makes me ache.
I can feel the weight of him—solid, certain. Each slow exhale against the back of my neck seeps into me, warm and steady, until my pulse starts syncing with his.
My skin prickles, and my thighs tighten. There’s a low, lazy throb still humming deep inside me from the night before, the kind that comes from being touched all too well.
I should regret this. I should be panicking.
Instead, my chest rises in a slow, careful breath, and it feels like I’m expanding against his arm.
His scent is everywhere. Clean soap, a hint of cedar. Underneath, the warmth of skin and something darker—musky,salt-edged, addictive. I breathe it in, and it goes straight to my head, fogging every rational thought.
Last night floods back in fragments, flashes that hit like aftershocks.
The scrape of stubble against my inner thighs. The rasp of his voice when he said,use me however you need.
My own voice, breathless and pleading. The sharp edge of the counter biting into my back while his hands held me open.
I swallow hard, and my whole body clenches with the memory. Heat spills low and molten, curling through my belly.
God.
I remember how he looked up at me from between my legs, pupils blown, reverent and wrecked. How he kissed me after, slow and careful, like he was trying to put me back together.
My fingers twitch against the sheets. The air feels thick and humid, every breath dragging over nerves that refuse to calm.
I should be cataloging mistakes right now, running damage control like I always do.
But all I can think is how right this feels.
And how terrifying that thought is.
I shift slightly, and his thigh presses tighter against the back of mine. His fingers flex where they rest against my stomach, and a shiver races up my spine. My nipples pebble under the thin cotton of his shirt, the fabric suddenly too soft, too thin.
He murmurs something in his sleep, a low, gravelly sound that vibrates against my shoulder blade, and every muscle in my body tenses. My pulse kicks in my throat.
Move, Noelle. Get up. Before you forget that this isn’t yours to keep.
I slide my hand beneath his and lift gently. His skin is warm—too warm. My fingers tremble as I ease out from under his arm. The cold air hits my bare legs immediately, sharp enough to make me gasp.
