And with that, we were handed our bag of well-intentioned sin and politely ushered out before we could scandalize anyone further.
Outside, Kit bumped her shoulder against mine. “See? Totally painless.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“You’ll survive.”
She was probably right. But not if we didn’t get home soon.
fifteen
KIT
Apocalypse – Cigarettes After Sex
Coming home to the lodge felt familiar – too familiar – almost like it could all be home.
“Tea?” Jonah headed towards the kitchen, pulling his bobble hat off. I followed him up the stairs, bag from the shop in hand, the warmth in the house beginning to chase away the chill.
“Yeah,” I said, placing our shopping down on the counter, bottles clinking against each other. “Please.”
I moved over to the soft couch, pulling off the only pair of sensible shoes I’d packed, letting my toes stretch out. I hadn’t so much as glanced at those high-heeled boots I’d stomped around town in my first night, and my soles were thankful for the respite.
Behind me, Jonah raised hell in the kitchen. Now fully trained, I could make out the sound of the kettle being filled, the noise of two mugs being placed on the counter, the teabag container opening.
Second nature.
I wasn’t sure what had possessed me to pitch staying a few more days, but it was the easiest decision in the world. I’d gone from plotting any means of escape to a voluntary extension, and as Jonah reached up high in the cupboard for some sugar and I caught the stretch of his back – those strong arms and his perfect arse – I knew there was no doubt of my reasoning for the latter.
Standing up, I closed the space between us, pressing up behind him, my arms wrapping around his torso. His pine scent enveloped me, as if the smell of this place clung to his body. Jonah stilled under my touch, the large expanse of strong muscle turning firm and rigid for a moment before softening under my fingertips, relenting, melting into the embrace.
I rested my head against his back, feeling the sound of his voice deep in his chest as he murmured, “You okay there?”
“I needed a hug,” I answered.
He laughed lowly. “Glad I could be of service.” His hands gripped my wrists softly, raising them from the embrace to allow his slim body to rotate, bringing us face to face. “Come here,” he said, his arms pulling me unexpectedly up, my bum sitting comfortably on the counter.
Now at eye level with him, I found a cheeky look held deep in those beautiful brown eyes, a sly smile across his lips. He took a moment, his eyes searching my face and fingers pushing strands of hair back behind my ears, before placing a soft kiss on my forehead, lips tracing down the side of my face.
I could get used to this.
“I get better access this way.” His breath was hot against my still-cold cheek as he trailed down towards my neck, nudging my blonde hair out of the way with his nose. The contact sent sparks down my spine to ignite a fire low in my stomach.
My eyes closed, back arching into his touch, head tilting to give full access to my neck. His lips worked, finding everysensitive spot along the skin, while my hands pulled at his knitted jumper, fingers slow and yearning for bare skin.
Jonah’s breathing became heavy, his chest heaving as we grew hungrier and hungrier, like our patience while waiting to get home had run dry, hands desperately ready to tear each other’s clothes off again. But this time, it was different; something weightier than the carnal need for a box of condoms sat between us.
My brain began that dance again, overanalysing what had happened earlier. “You know what I said back at Archie’s,” I started, my voice breathless as I tried to concentrate on anything but the brush of his soft lips and the calloused hand delicately travelling up under my shirt. “About staying until after New Year.”
His attention snapped up, the look of seriousness chasing away the lust I’d seen there a moment ago. “Did you change your mind?” he asked, with no space in his tone for anything but concern.
I shook my head. “No, of course not. I didn’t ask yo?—”
He cut me off with a sharp kiss, the slide of lips against mine intoxicating, like he knew exactly what to do to stop me from spiralling.
“Don’t,” he said, insisting. “I want you to stay.”
My eyes searched his, looking for the lie. There was only strength, an adamance in his words. “You do?”
