Holiday Hookup by S.A. Clayton

Author:S.A. Clayton [Clayton, S.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

I knew he was going to kiss me the second our eyes met. I’d seen that look before and the memory of what that look meant set my skin on fire, and before I have the chance to second-guess if this is a good idea, he’s on me and I’m melting into his touch.

I’m not pretending I don’t want this; I’m done hiding behind my son as an excuse to get him to leave me alone because the feelings that are coursing through my blood right now are something I never want to let go of.

“Dane…” I moan as his lips fall from mine, trailing down my neck as his fingers play with the hem of my T-shirt.

“Did you wear this to drive me fucking insane? Because that’s what you’re doing.”

The words are muttered against my skin and not meant for a reply. His fingers skim the outside of my thighs, causing a shiver to roll through my entire body as his lips find purchase in the crook of my neck.

“Dane, please…” I beg. I don’t think he realizes how much I need this; how much I’ve fought against this for the last week and how much my body is craving his touch right now.

“How long has it been?” He growls, pulling away and placing his palms against the side of my cheek.

I shake my head, not really wanting to answer that question.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

I shake my head again, my eyes staying locked on the kitchen floor. When he takes a deep breath, his thumb grazing the sides of my face, I can’t help it as my eyes meet his.

“What do you want?” I whisper, his hand falling from my face to the hem of my shirt, playing with the edge before delving underneath to find me wet and wanting.

“Oh, sweetheart, I want a lot of things.” His tongue darts out, licking up my neck while his hands grip the side of my boy shorts. “I want to know why you wear these and why the hell they look so much sexier on you than anyone else…”

I moan, melting into the feel of his fingers delving past the waistband of my panties only to find my folds soaking.

“I want to know what caused you to be this turned on… was it the way I kissed you in the hall? Was it the way I looked at you the second you walked into this kitchen looking like my very own wet dream come to life? Or maybe it was the way my fingers danced all over your skin, letting you know exactly what my touch can do…”

I just nod, knowing that he’s being a cocky bastard, but it’s warranted.

“Let me ask you this again, so I know exactly how fast or slow to take this, how long has it been?”

God, why did he have to ask it like that, so demanding and yet so sweet at the same time?

I hate it.

Reluctantly I take a deep breath and whisper, “Two years and eight months.

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