Page 84 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
She fell into me, lips softer than velvet sealing against mine, cold hands gathering the collar of my shirt so she could hold on for dear life. If I had it my way, I’d never let her go.
CHAPTER38
WINTER
North’s callused hand brushed my cheek and slid into my hair, easing it behind my ear and holding it there against the nape of my neck in a fist. His fingers pressed into my tendons, as if forcing me to part my lips for his kiss. I did. His tongue dipped between my teeth, and he lowered me down on the sofa, devouring my mouth as I slid a leg along his.
“Come home with me for Christmas,” I whispered into our kiss.
He paused and smiled down at me. “Really? That’s a big step.”
“Bigger than getting on an airplane to ask the guy who stomped on my heart to take me back?”
“Is that what you were doing?” he mused.
I pushed playfully at his chest. “Just say yes. My parents want to meet you.”
“There’s a lot that needs tending to on the farm.”
“It can wait.”
“Marge will miss our standing Christmas Eve date.”
“Tell Justin and Cami to take her.”
He pursed his lips.
I closed a fist in the front of his shirt and dragged him back down to my lips for more kisses. “Say. Yes.”
His chest rumbled with a deep, masculine chuckle. “Yes.”
I pictured Christmas Eve back at my parents’ house with North occupying half a sofa to himself. He and my dad would hit it off—I could already hear their laughter in the kitchen while Mom and I eavesdropped from the living room. She’d tell me he was handsome within three minutes of him walking through the front door, I was sure. Dad would joke that he always hoped I’d marry into money. Mom would scold him. And North?
Well, he’d see where I got it from. My eyes from my mom, sense of humor from my dad, my love of the holidays from both of them. He’d be on my arm at my aunt’s crazy open house party, and I’d be able to whisper in his ear about all my relatives and which ones to stay away from while we ate pigs in a blanket and sipped mulled wine.
He would be the talk of the entire party, I was sure. I couldn’t just show up with a real-life lumberjack of my own and expect peoplenotto talk. My cousins would be obnoxiously jealous. The littler ones would probably think North was the coolest thing on legs. The aunts would check him out every time his back was turned. The uncles would want to be him—and he might just get stolen away to the garage to look at my uncle’s old Yamaha motorcycle, drink beer, and “shoot the shit” as the guys liked to say.
“What are you smiling about?” North asked, grazing his nose across mine.
“I’m daydreaming.”
“About me I hope.”
“No, some other guy who’s just a bit taller with nicer abs and—”
He pinched my ribs and I broke off into laughter. The tickling gave way to more kisses
My heart swelled in my chest. Draping an arm behind his neck, I ran my fingers through his hair. He nuzzled my face to the side so he could kiss my neck. The warmth from the fire saved me from goose bumps as he worked my sweater off over my head and let it fall to the floor. I worked to undo the buttons on his shirt, which shortly joined mine, and I arched my back and pressed up to feel the warmth of his skin against mine.
Soon, my jeans were undone.
Then they were gathered around my thighs.
He rubbed me over my panties while our kisses deepened, and by the time he pulled the thin lace fabric to the side and felt how wet I was, I could barely catch my breath between kisses. He praised me as he stroked me, telling me how good I was—and how good I felt—and nipping at my lips in between. I whimpered, wiggled, and silently pleaded with him to stop teasing me.
But he had his own agenda.
I lifted my hips, daring his fingers to slip, and he clicked his tongue.
