Rowan 38
Rowan
I stayed under the hot water longer than usual and let it run over my shoulders to wash away the last of the winter chill.
After the insanity of the past few months, the idea of a calm Christmas had felt out of reach.
And I definitely hadn't expected Eli to be part of it.
And yet today was perfect in ways I never could have imagined.
A smile tugged at my lips as I thought back on it.
Our walk through the snow, the warm pub, familiar faces, sparkling lights on fresh powder.
It almost seemed like something from another life.
One I'd always wanted but never thought I'd have.
I leaned forward against the shower wall and let the memory of Eli's laugh flicker through my mind, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me.
It was strange, almost, how natural it felt to be with him. I'd gotten so used to solitude, especially around holidays. I felt out of place at first, as if I was intruding on something that wasn't mine. But with Eli, nothing about it felt false. It just fit.
Eventually, I shut off the water and braced myself against the cold air as I stepped out. I wrapped a towel around myself, shivering a little as I grabbed another to rub my hair dry. The warmth faded from the air quickly, but right now, nothing could ruin my mood.
After I got dressed, I stepped out of the bathroom and was struck by how still the flat was. Quiet. Empty in a way that made me pause. I wondered if Eli had left, maybe to grab something or step out for air. But that didn't make sense.
"Eli?"
Nothing.
I moved through the flat to peek into the kitchen, then the sitting room. Everything sat untouched, just as we'd left it that afternoon. A flicker of unease stirred in my chest, even though I knew it wasn't rational. I opened my mouth to call again –
"Back here."
I followed his voice, my heart kicking up as I approached the doorway to the bedroom. He leaned casually against the frame, his expression relaxed and open. A faint grin tugged at his lips, and I caught a mischievous spark in his eyes that immediately put me on alert.
Even so, my own smile slipped out before I could stop it. "What are you up to?"
Instead of giving me an answer, he pushed off the doorframe and pulled me toward him, one hand reaching up to gently guide my face to his. His gaze dropped to my mouth, lingering for just a second, and his thumb brushed lightly over my lower lip. The look in his eyes made the heat crawl up my neck.
Then he kissed me, light at first, then deeper, slower. A new kind of warmth unfurled in my chest and sent a quiet thrill through me as I leaned into him.
Something was different this time. His hands slid around me to draw me closer, and I let myself sink into it. My fingers drifted up to trace his jaw before sliding into his hair, the strands soft and warm to the touch.
Every stroke of his lips sent another slow pulse of warmth down my spine.
When his tongue brushed mine, I gasped – and he used that moment to pull me fully against him.
A surge of unfamiliar heat began to spread through me until my skin flushed and my pulse raced.
It pooled low in my stomach with an intensity I hadn't experienced with anyone else.
When he finally eased back, my breath came heavy and my cheeks burned. My fingers stayed tangled in his hair, unwilling to let him go. That's when I noticed a bit of green above us that looked out of place, and I glanced up. Mistletoe dangled from the doorframe.
"When did that get there?" I asked, breathless.
The answer was obvious in the grin he tried to hide. "Couldn't resist." His lips brushed against mine once more, gentler this time. His hand trailed up my back, reigniting the spark beneath my skin.
"You're sneaky," I muttered between kisses, but the words held no real bite. Any protest melted the second he pressed in again, his warmth wrapping around me until the rest of the world fell away.
My hands moved on instinct and slipped beneath his shirt. My palms skimmed across his back, soaking in the way he tensed before that familiar grin curved at the edge of his lips. The one that always made my stomach flip.
The flirty glint in his eyes gave way to something else. My breath caught, but I didn’t wait. I slid my hands down to hook my fingers into his waistband – and gave a firm tug.
He stumbled into me with a surprised laugh, catching himself with one hand braced beside my head as my back hit the wall. His eyes searched mine. Curious. Amused. And maybe a little thrown. “Bold move, Ro.”
I leaned in until our noses nearly touched. “I'm making up for lost time.”
His mouth was on mine again before I could say anything else. The kiss lit me up, and every nerve suddenly came alive.
His hands trailed along my sides, slow and sure, until his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt. I arched into his touch without thinking. My own hands roamed with a slow, deliberate confidence, tracing the firm muscles of his chest.
His hips pressed up against me. Right away, I felt an unmistakable hardness that made my breath catch. I couldn't help the teasing smile that tugged at my lips as I nudged him gently with my knee.
His reaction was instant. He drew in a sharp breath, and for a split second, he froze. Before I could ask what was wrong, his forehead dipped toward mine. "I don't – I didn't bring anything – "
I leaned in and kissed him hard, cutting him off before he could finish. Then, against his mouth, I murmured, “It's fine. I trust you.”
That was all it took. Whatever was holding him back snapped.
His hands slipped under my thighs without warning and lifted me clean off the floor, pressing me back against the wall hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
It made my head spin, and I had to lock my legs around him to hold myself up.
The pressure between us was immediate, hard and hot and impossible to ignore.
He kissed me again. Rougher, deeper, all tongue and heat and hunger. His hips ground against me in a way that made me gasp into his mouth. My nails dug into him as I held on tighter, desperate for something to anchor me as the need burned hotter.
The friction sent a jolt through me, and I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. Both of us were wound tight and breathing heavy.
Every inch of me became hyper-aware of him – his touch, his breath, the heat of his skin.
I couldn't focus on anything but how he made me feel.
My pulse jumped, every nerve stretched thin and aching for more of him.
His mouth trailed down my jaw, then lower as his breath shuddered against my throat. “You sure about this?”
I didn't hesitate. I nodded and whispered, "Yes."
He lifted me away from the wall and carried me across the room. I clung tighter to him, my breath caught between kisses that didn't stop as he carefully lowered me onto the mattress.
By the time he settled over me, everything else had blurred out of focus. His kisses trailed down my neck, each one lingering just long enough to make me shiver. His hands traced up and down my body to map every inch. The heat began to settle in again, slowly this time.
At some point, I felt his hands drift down my arms, slow and intentional, until his fingers found mine and threaded them together.
He leaned in again, his lips brushing along my jaw before trailing lower.
I tipped my head back as his mouth found the curve of my throat, then my collarbone.
My breath hitched from how careful he was with every movement.
His hands moved next, releasing mine only to slip between us. Button by button, he worked my shirt open. Slow. Precise. His lips didn't stop, either, as he worked his way down. By the time he reached the last one, I was shaking a little from how tightly wound I was.
He eased the shirt open, and his lips continued lower. Down my chest. Past my ribs. Then he found the curve of my stomach.
I gasped. The touch was softer than I expected, but it set everything off inside me. My hands gripped at the fabric near my head and curled tighter when he brushed that same spot again, slower, more deliberate. Just to see if I'd react the same way.
I did. Another breath caught in my throat, sharp and involuntary, and I swore I felt him smile against my skin.
His lips kept moving, trailing open kisses across my stomach.
The heat of it left me raw and exposed in a way I hadn't expected.
I didn't even know I was sensitive there.
I dragged in a breath and let my eyes slip shut.
The fabric in my hands bunched tighter as I braced myself, my body already moving toward him without meaning to.
Eli had barely even said a word, but I could feel it in every kiss, every touch. He wanted all of me.
And I was ready to give it to him.
He slipped an arm underneath me to lift me up and ease the shirt from my shoulders. I barely had time to breathe before his lips pressed against mine again – hot, steady, unrelenting. His hand cradled the back of my neck as I kissed him back harder, chasing the heat that kept building between us.
My hands found his waist, and my fingers slid under the hem of his shirt before I gave it a tug.
He got the message. He broke the kiss to strip it off and toss it aside.
The second it was gone, I pulled him back down.
We were skin to skin now, and his warmth spread through me.
A low moan escaped me as I arched into the contact.
His hands drifted lower to slip beneath the waistband of my jeans.
He hesitated, but I didn't give him time to think about it.
I helped him work them off, slow and clumsy and desperate in equal measure.
His lips stayed locked on mine through the effort, his breath hot against my skin as he coaxed the fabric off my legs and let everything fall to the floor.