Hate Me Under the Mistletoe: A Heller Family Garland Grove Holiday Novel (Romancing the Rink) by Kelly Jamieson & Garland Grove Books

Author:Kelly Jamieson & Garland Grove Books [Jamieson, Kelly & Grove Books, Garland]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kelly Jamieson
Published: 2021-10-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Amy

“Wow. I’m really warm now.”

Ryder shakes with laughter next to me. “Yeah, me too. Amazing.”

I can’t believe we just did that. I just had sex with Ryder Long. My teenage self would be hyperventilating right now. Ryder! And me!

The me who’s here right now, though, isn’t panicking or freaking out. I’m wasted. I’m limp. I’m boneless and quivering, and oh my God, I feel so good.

I want more.

I hated Ryder for years, but the last few days have thawed me, that bitter coldness melting right out of me. I still think there’s a reason for me to hate him, but it just doesn’t seem to matter right now.

Ryder’s hand glides down my back then up. Our legs are tangled together, our bodies pressed skin to skin. I breathe in the scent of him, warm and spicy and male. When I press my nose to his throat, I murmur, “Is my nose cold?”

“A little.” He squeezes my butt. “I need to add more wood to the fire.”

“I’m amazed this whole place isn’t on fire after that.”

He chuckles. “Fair point.” He slides out from under the covers, and I tug them to me.

He grabs tissues from a box on the table and gets rid of the condom. Then he moves to the fire. He’s naked, and the golden firelight highlights his amazing body—firm muscles, wide shoulders, lean hips, long legs. I watch, enthralled, as his thighs flex when he bends. The fire grows, grabbing hold of the logs he lays on it, climbing higher and brighter.

Ryder straightens and turns, giving me a front view—I take in his silhouette, over six feet of tightly packed muscles. I’m just able to make out the smatter of hair on his chest, the ridges of his abs, his thick cock surrounded by dark hair.

He sets one knee on the edge of the bed. “Need anything while I’m up?”

I give a tiny shake of my head. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” He slides back in, and we attach to each other like barnacles on a ship. He strokes my hair, kisses my temple, and whispers, “We should get some sleep.”

“Sleep? What?”

He laughs softly. “Maniac.”

“Well, that was pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” He lifts his head and gives me an evil look. “That’s it?”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Okay, it was freakin’ amazing.”

“That’s better.” He kisses my cheek, my jaw. His stubble scrapes darkly across my skin, thrilling me. “Amazing. Incredible. Addicting.” His mouth brushes over mine. My lips open and cling to his in another one of those long, drugging kisses. So much better than I ever imagined.

I lose myself in the sensation of his mouth, his tongue, his hands. His taste is intoxicating, and I can’t get enough. I explore, too, shaping his shoulders and biceps, teasing the nape of his neck, sliding my fingers through his thick hair. When a groan rumbles in his throat, I smile.

I feel the growing tension in his muscles, his hands going still before resuming their voluptuous strokes, his cock hardening against my hip.

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