The slight catch in her breathing made my pulse kick up. “Couldhave sworn the cookie cutters were in this drawer,” I murmured. The layout of my kitchen was damn near identical to the one in the house we used to share. I could find my way around it with a blindfold on.
When I pulled away, she made a soft sound of frustration before reaching up to brush her hair back, leaving a smudge of floury dough across her forehead.
“You’ve got a little...” I gestured vaguely at her face, fighting a grin. When she tried and failed to get it, I stepped behind her properly, my hips pinning hers against the island before I tipped her head back. “Here, let me.”
Kelsey didn’t pull away as I swiped my thumb across the spot. Instead, she pressed back against me as I sucked the sweetness off my skin, just enough to let me know she felt it too. This electric current running between us, threatening to short-circuit what little self-control remained.
We’d been on our best behavior since calling a truce, not arguing… keeping our hands—and mouths—to ourselves. Acting like responsible adults who could coexist without it turning sexual. But the way she was looking at me now, green eyes homed in on my mouth like a heat-seeking missile, made it clear that particular ceasefire was about to end.
I didn’t even have it in me to give a damn. I’d missed this. Missed the way her breathing changed when I touched her, the gentle tug-of-war between wanting to finish whatever task she’d set herself and wanting to give in to what I was offering.
We’d lost it somewhere along the way—first during the fertility treatments, when sex became clinical, scheduled around ovulation charts and injections. Every month that ended in disappointment added another layer of pressure until touching each other felt like work.
Then later, when Levi’s struggles consumed everything. Therapy appointments, medication trials, the constant vigilance required to keep him safe—it all took precedence. We’d fall into bed exhausted, backs turned to each other, too drained to bridge the growing gap between us. Weeks would pass without anything more than accidental touches—months, towardthe end.
But now, with her pressed against me, I remembered what we had before life got so complicated. When we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. When the kids would catch us making out in the kitchen and complain about how gross we were.
“Teddy,” she whispered, my name barely audible over Burl Ives’s voice.
“What, baby?” I traced a line from her temple to her jaw before curving my fingers around her throat, loosely holding her in place. My other hand found her waist, thumb tracing over the flannel.
She shivered, goosebumps breaking out along her arms. “You said you’d be good.”
“I am being good.” I leaned down, my lips brushing her earlobe. “Haven’t kissed you yet.”
Yet.
Her breath came out in a little gasp, and she rocked back against me again, unconsciously seeking friction. My body responded instantly, blood rushing south so fast it left me lightheaded.
“Tell me how you want it,” I said, my voice rougher than intended.
Her throat bobbed in a hard swallow beneath my palm. “Want what?”
“Like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” I murmured, pulling my lip between my teeth.
The pulse point in her neck thrummed. She abandoned any pretense of rolling, her hands gripping the counter. The flannel had ridden up in the back, confirming what I’d suspected when I walked in—she wasn’t wearing a damn thing underneath.
“C’mon, Kels. You want it thick?” I asked, trying not to smile when she rubbed herself against the front of my jeans. “Thin? Cut into shapes?”
“Shapes?” She gave a strangled laugh. “Oh my God, you’re talking about the cookies.”
“What else would I be talking about?”
“You’re the worst,” she grumbled.
“Just trying to get this dough in the oven before it dries out. Not my fault your mind’s in the gutter.” I turned just enough to reach thedrawer behind me, grabbing the cookie cutters. “Looks like we’ve got a snowflake, a mitten, a tree, and a… dick?”
“It’s a candy cane, Teddy.”
“And what about the butt plug here?”
Kelsey took the cookie cutter from my hand and held it up for inspection, rotating it with a thoughtful frown. “I think it’s supposed to be a Christmas light. Or maybe an ornament?”
The movement pressed us even closer together, and I had to bite back a groan at the feel of her soft curves against me and that shirt unbuttoned enough to tempt a saint.
“What?” she asked, tilting her head back to peer up at me.
“Nothing. Just waiting on you to tell me what we’re doing here, sugar,” I managed once my brain came back online.
