And I really, really wanted to.
Chapter
Twelve
QUINTON
Fuck, she felt good.
So damn good. And I can’t get the look that claimed her face out of my head as I lay awake at 11:55 p.m. Only a few hours later, and I am still hovering around that one singular moment we shared. I can’t shake it.
It’s been forever since a woman affected me.
And never like that, never with just a touch.
Dammit.
She was animated tonight. Happy. It’s the first time I’ve seen her anything but focused, annoyed, or stressed-out.
And she was goddamn stunning.
Celeste’s light is still on. But now I can’t bring myself to peer through my window.
As much as I want to, I won’t.
Can’t.
My fingertips still hold the ghost of her touch. Her skin so silky soft, her dark eyes burning with the same thing that was threatening to take me down. At least I think that’s what it was for her, too.
I roll over, my tense body digging into the mattress. My mind latches onto one thing—touching Celeste—and fucking runs with it.
Cock impossibly hard, I rub my hands down my face with a groan.
I’m a fucking idiot, fantasizing over the woman next door. More complications are probably the last thing she wants. I’m probably the last man she wants, if our history is anything to go by.
But fuck me.
She’s damn well edible.
So beautiful and sweet, the way she plays with Maise. Selfless, the way she cares for Hank...
Hell, I may as well get her out of my system. I grip my cock in one hand and pump. Every angle, elegant curve, and sound of Celeste floods back in.
Every stroke takes me higher, every image of her cementing her somewhere deep.
I shoot loads of ropey release over my boxers with a low moan.
But the high is fleeting. Shallow and soulless.
It doesn’t abate the need, doesn’t even take the edge off.
Well, shit.
Maisey drags me along behind her as we make our way through the snow to the town center for the Christmas tree lighting. Folks have already started drifting in from around town, and strategically placed speakers play holiday music witha comforting crackle. The stars overhead pale in comparison to the bright faces around us.
It’s barely halfway through the month, but Grafton has Christmas in full swing. The tree lighting, apparently, is the official start to the long list of festivities. A few people say hello as I wander behind my daughter, snow crunching under my boots, the winter darkness kept at bay with the copious amounts of string lights and the lit-up Christmas displays in each storefront on Main Street.
“Hey Quinton, how’s the inn coming along? Going to be ready for Christmas Day dinner? You know, my family has tables booked there,” Jeffrey Stiles says, forcing a smile as if he’s worried his plans are going to fall through.
