He exhales, his breath meeting mine in a gust of permission I didn’t know I needed until we both lean in at the same time.
I’m sure I kiss him first, but it’s mutual, a soft collision of lips. Uncertain and wary, because after all this time, we’re strangers who don’t do this. But then need grows and familiarity follows, hesitancy melting into an urgent fever.
We taught each other how to kiss, once upon a time.
And then, for a long time, it was just something nice that we did—and we did it often. Daily, until we stopped. Until anger and unhappiness made us stop.
Somewhere in there, I forgot that Garrett Kincaid is a master at this thing he once learned with me.
OhLord, can this man kiss. His lips part mine and his tongue strokes deep. His hand cradles my face, holding me as he swallows my whimpers for the first time in eight months. Little desperate sounds that I can’t hold in because his cock is straining against my belly, and only a few layers of soft cotton separate us. I wriggle closer.
“We’re not fooling around,” he grinds out between tastes. “It’s Christmas Eve, you hot little thing.”
I laugh and kiss him back.
No, no fooling around tonight.
But no more fighting, either. Just kisses, endless kisses, making up for lost time. And then a sweet, hot, snuggly drift into a very hopeful sleep.
Chapter 21
Garrett
For the second day in a row, I wake up with a hard cock and a handful of warm, sleepy tit.
Ah fuck, I think, immediately followed by,she feels so good, though.
Unlike yesterday, I don’t have the luxury of holding Rory for a moment, of enjoying how soft and sweet she is, because what woke me up was the thunder of tiny footsteps above us.
Her toddler cousins are awake.
“Roar,” I murmur.
She whines in protest and wiggles her bum against my cock.
Fucking hell, I agree, we should stay exactly where we are. “We can’t be caught like this.”
Even though I’d put up with all the teasing in the world, and everyone thinks we’re still together anyway. But she’s never been one for PDAs.
Last night’s kisses play in my head like an All Star highlight reel as I slide out from behind her.
We probably shouldn’t have done that. I was right thatkissing was different than hooking up, and it complicates everything. But as soon as I confessed to her that I’d held back, as soon as she looked at my mouth with that hungry, unfiltered expression of pure need, I knew we were going to crash through that boundary. We needed to.
I’d do it again this morning if we weren’t going to have company in three, two, one?—
“Santa came!” The twins are like a tornado, spiralling into the room with completely chaotic intention.
I’ve just snatched the blanket and pillow from the couch that Rory didn’t sleep on, and I’m holding them in front of my crotch as I give a gruffgood morningnod to Allan and Tabitha, who are corralling their children to only open the presents that are for them.
Carmen follows quickly, bustling around the kitchen. I leave Rory sleeping and go to make myself useful.
I’ve just poured a cup of coffee when Rory stumbles into the kitchen, hair fluffy and eyes barely open.
I hold the mug in the air and she beelines for it, her hands outstretched.
“Good morning,” I murmur as she collides into me.
She mumbles something as she pulls the coffee to her mouth.
