‘So, what can I do for you?’ The question hung in the space between us.
I had a few suggestions. Kiss me until I can’t breathe. Bend me over the workbench. Put me on my knees and…
I swallowed, trying to steady myself. ‘I was checking if you needed anything before you head off to the Christmas market.’
He tied off some twine before beckoning me to him.
His expression was infuriatingly unreadable.
‘Try again.’
The words slid under my ribs and sent my heartbeat thundering.
Heat rose to my cheeks at the simple demand. I didn’t need to pretend I was there under some ploy. Henry made it clear that it’s okay to let my guard down. That it’s okay to want.
‘I want…’ Knowing it was okay to tell him didn’t make it any easier to do so. ‘You to kiss me.’
Henry’s expression changed, his pleasure marking his grin, and those blue eyes darkened like a stormy sea.
Standing, he said, ‘Come here.’
I obeyed, crossing the room, my pulse quickening when I stood before him, looking up into that devilishly sweet face. His eyes flicked to my mouth as I wet my lips. When his fingers brushed the side of my jaw, I inhaled sharply, the smallest of his touches lighting me up brighter than the monstrous Christmas tree inside.
‘I haven’t stopped thinking about these damned lips,’ he murmured, almost to himself. ‘Or the way you whimper into my mouth. The way your breath catches when I touch you…’ Histhumb traced lightly along my lower lip. ‘It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.’
The words hit like a physical sensation, darting straight between my thighs and spreading heat through me.
‘Here?’
‘Anywhere,’ he said. ‘Everywhere.’
Theeverywherewas positively salacious.
Tipping my jaw, his lips brushed the side of my neck in a slow kiss that sent sparks through me in an unbroken wave. His breath skimmed my skin, and the soft touch unravelled all the tightness I’d been holding in my chest.
He kissed just below my ear next, lingering on my pulse point as I placed my hands on his thick chest, feeling the solidity of him. Then he found my mouth and kissed me with unhurried depth, erasing any thoughts of reindeer, photographers, clients and the outside world.
The stroke of his tongue practically wiped my name from my head. I curled my fingers into his woollen jumper, demanding more with the eagerness of my own mouth.
Then footsteps crunched on the path outside the glass.
A male voice, one of the Petersens, calling my name. I flinched, pulling back from the kiss and seeing red. I just wanted five god damned minutes to lose myself in Henry’s mouth. Was that too much to ask?
‘Henry, someone’s coming.’
He didn’t push me away. Instead, he pulled me deeper into the foliage, placing himself between me and a wooden table.
Then he sank to his knees.
Right at my feet.
Right between my thighs.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked through gritted teeth as Bill Petersen came into the orangery.
He didn’t answer. His fingers wrapped around my black leggings and tugged me closer to him, settling himself where the potting bench and the angle of the worktable hid him from sight.
‘Ah, Amanda,’ Mr Petersen called as he stepped inside. ‘Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to check when we’ll be doing the next round of photos, the kids are…’
