4PM CHRISTMAS EVE
For someone who said I would not actually celebrate this year, here I am. In the kitchen, making hot cocoa. Homemade, I might add. I do not know what Sutton has against packaged products. I do not mind watching her move around the kitchen like she owns it. I took a risk going into the shower. It was worth it. There is more I want to know about her. A lot more.
“So what are you doing after the holidays?” I ask again, leaning against the counter. I know she is probably annoyed, but I want to know. I actually want to see if I could join. Whatever this is feels stronger than anything I had with Keke. It is crazy it took a few hours to realize that. Turns out I was more hurt in my ego than in my love for Keke.
“You have a lot of questions.” She places two cups on the counter and pours the hot cocoa into each. The steam curls between us.
“Yeah. A lot of them unanswered.” I lean in as she slides one of the cups toward me.
She licks her spoon after scooping a swirl of whipped cream onto her drink. My eyes follow the movement.
“Are you going to answer?” I ask.
“Maybe. What do I get out of giving you this information?” She raises her eyebrows at me.
“Well.” I step closer. Freshly showered, she smells warm and sweet, something like vanilla. “What do you want?”
She makes a thinking face, her eyes flicking between my mouth and my eyes.
“Well, I want…”
I cut her off gently. “Before you answer. Be honest.”
“Who said I was not going to be?”
“I am just saying you have been skipping around what you really want.”
“Oh really? And what is that, Heaven? Since you can read my mind. What do I want?”
I step even closer. Close enough that her breath brushes my chin. I take the cup from her hands and place it on the counter behind her. Then I press her back gently against the counter.
Her breath hitches.
“Open your mouth,” I say softly.
She hesitates, just for a second. Then her lips part.
I grab the whipped cream, hold her chin lightly with my free hand, and spray a sweet swirl right onto her tongue. She gasps, eyes wide, and something inside me tightens at the sight.
“Good girl,” I whisper.
Her cheeks flush. Her tongue sweeps across her bottom lip, catching the last bit of cream.
“That was good,” she teases softly. “I think you should have a taste.”
She takes the can from my hand. “Open up, baby.”
I smirk before opening my mouth. She gives me a light swirl, barely enough to taste. Before I can speak, she leans in, eyes already on mine.
I meet her halfway.
Our lips touch, warm and hungry. She melts into me, her hands sliding up my arms, her fingertip pressure sending heat across my skin. Her mouth tastes like sugar and something bright and soft that pulls me closer without trying.
I deepen the kiss. She sighs quietly against my lips, her fingers curling into my shirt. I grip her waist and pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body press into mine.
Then my phone rings.
I ignore it.
