Chapter 15 #2
He blinked, caught somewhere between amused and impressed. “You realize that’s cheating, right?”
I didn’t answer. Just stepped forward—slow, deliberate—and lowered the mistletoe until it hovered right above the zipper of his pants.
Easton went utterly still.
“Nat—”
“You dared me, didn’t you?” I said softly, lifting one eyebrow tauntingly. “Still think I’m scared?”
Easton’s breath hitched. His usual smug grin faltered for a second, replaced by something darker, more reverent. “Okay,” he rasped, his voice suddenly hoarse. “Point made.”
“Good,” I whispered, the word floating between us like the brush of a fingertip over bare skin.
I sank gracefully to my knees in front of him, my eyes never leaving his, the mistletoe still dangling between my fingers…held like a crown or a dare or both. His gaze tracked me the whole way down, and when I looked up at him through my lashes, something inside him snapped taut.
“Nat,” he said quietly, as if he didn’t know whether to worship me or haul me to my feet and kiss me until the walls fell down.
“Shh.” I pressed a finger to his waistband, my tone light, teasing. “Unless you want the entire bridal party to come around the corner and see just how seriously we take tradition.”
His breathing quickened, and a thrill of power surged through me as I reached out, boldly undoing his pants. His gaze burned into mine, full of stunned desire.
“Fuck,” he whispered roughly, sounding beautifully wrecked before I even touched him.
I freed him from his pants, already hard and pulsing beneath my fingertips. He sucked in a sharp breath, bracing a palm against the wall.
“You’re unbelievable,” he groaned softly, eyes never leaving mine.
I leaned in, my lips barely grazing his tip, teasing softly. “You started this.”
His hips twitched involuntarily. “Then finish it.”
I grinned wickedly before sliding him fully between my lips, taking him deep into my mouth in one smooth motion. He bit back a groan, the muscles in his stomach tightening visibly.
His fingers slid into my hair, gripping lightly, a silent plea. His voice was a hoarse rasp as he murmured, “Fucking hell, your mouth feels so good.”
I hummed around him, savoring the way his entire body shuddered, my tongue sliding expertly along his length. I moved slowly, deliberately, enjoying every ragged breath, every whispered curse that fell from his lips.
“That’s it,” he urged softly, guiding me gently with his grip. “You love teasing me, don’t you? Driving me crazy.”
I pulled back slowly, holding him in my hand, looking up at him through lowered lashes. “I seem to remember you being a fan of torture.”
He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. “You’re playing dangerous games, Trouble.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I whispered confidently, sliding my tongue along his shaft, making him jerk forward again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week. How good you’d feel in my mouth.”
“Fuck,” he choked out, eyes hooded and dark, his chest heaving. “You keep talking like that, I won’t last.”
I smiled, victorious. “Maybe I don’t want you to last.”
He groaned softly, hand tightening in my hair. “You’re so filthy, Nat. You look so fucking perfect like this.”
I took him deep again, increasing my pace, loving the way he struggled to keep quiet. My hand and mouth worked together, pushing him to the edge with each stroke, every slide of my tongue, every flick and tease.
Easton’s breathing grew rough, uneven. “That’s right, baby,” he whispered, gaze locked fiercely onto mine. “Just like that. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come right here in this hallway.”
I moaned around him softly, encouragingly, desperate to feel him lose control. His grip tightened, hips shifting helplessly.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice tight. “To swallow me down while our friends are right around the corner?”
I looked up at him deliberately, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. “I want you to lose it completely. Right here, right now. Give it to me, Easton.”
His eyes darkened, filled with raw need. He guided himself back into my mouth, hips rolling forward, chasing his release.
“You’re gonna swallow every drop, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he rasped, thrusting carefully, his voice strained. “You always were so damn good at this.”
I took him deeper, moaning eagerly, nails digging softly into his thighs, silently begging for it. His breathing turned ragged, his body trembling.
“Fuck, Nat—I’m so close?—”
I increased my pace, my tongue swirling, my lips tightening around him. He bucked helplessly, his head falling back against the wall .
“I’m coming,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck.”
Easton’s release shattered through him, body tensing, hand gripping my hair almost desperately. I swallowed eagerly, every groan, every broken, breathless curse spilling from his lips making me feel like I’d just cracked open something sacred and secret inside him.
When he finally sagged against the wall, boneless and wrecked, chest rising and falling in hard, uneven pulls, I shifted back slowly.
My lips curled into a smug little smile as I licked him clean, my gaze sliding up to meet his.
His eyes were heavy lidded and dazed, like I’d just knocked every coherent thought out of his brain.
“Still think I’m scared of mistletoe?” I whispered, my voice playful and sweetly smug.
He let out a ragged laugh, his whole body still trembling slightly. “I mean…” he managed, running a hand down his face before dropping it to his side. “You’re dangerous. Like, soul-stealing dangerous.”
I rose slowly, smoothing my clothes with exaggerated nonchalance as I stepped back, letting the silence stretch just long enough for him to catch his breath. “And you’re welcome.”
Easton straightened himself with effort, zipping up his pants, eyes bright with laughter and lingering heat. “I definitely underestimated you.”
I leaned casually against the opposite wall, crossing my arms and lifting an eyebrow. “Maybe you won’t make that mistake again.”
Easton moved before I could finish enjoying the moment, stepping into my space like a storm I hadn’t braced for…quiet, certain, all heat and barely leashed hunger.
One hand slapped the wall beside my head, the other gripped my hip, his fingers tightening just enough to make me gasp. He caged me in like he was claiming me, like he didn’t care who saw…like he wanted them to .
I could feel the power thrumming off him, thick and magnetic, his body radiating heat that made my legs wobble and my skin tighten in anticipation.
His breath was rough against my ear, the faint trace of peppermint and pine clinging to his shirt—but it was him that wrapped around me. The scent of sex and tension and the promise of something obscene just beneath the surface.
My pulse spiked.
“You realize,” he murmured, his voice dark and wrecked, “next time I get you alone, I’m going to have you spread out and trembling—so deep, so slow, so fucking thorough—you’ll forget everything but my name.”
His mouth dragged down the line of my throat, slow enough to burn. “Over and over again… until it’s the only word you remember how to say.”
The words shot straight through me like lightning, and I bit down on a gasp, my body already responding before I could think to stop it. My fingers twitched at my sides. My knees did that traitorous wobble again.
“Promises, promises,” I whispered, trying for sass, but it came out a little more breathless than I intended.
His gaze burned into mine, filled with hungry anticipation. “Keep tempting me, Nat. See what happens.”
Before I could answer, before I could melt into him or kiss him again or drag him back to the suite, the sound of footsteps clattered from down the hall, followed by the unmistakable voice of my sister.
“Guys?” Paige called, cheerful and unaware. “You two hiding from us?”
We froze. I inhaled sharply. Easton’s mouth twitched into a smirk that said he was anything but sorry.
“Shit,” I whispered, frantically flinging the mistletoe down the hall.
He leaned in again, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Nope,” he called in an annoyingly steady voice. “Just…getting some air. ”
“You sound winded,” she called, her voice laced with suspicion—and something that sounded awfully close to older-sister I-told-you-so sparkle.
“Just discussing mistletoe traditions!” Easton answered easily, sounding far too composed for someone who’d just had a very scandalous hallway blow-job moment.
His voice rang out like he had nothing to hide.
And the grin he shot me? Wicked. Absolutely wicked.
His eyes sparkled with triumph, like this whole thing had gone exactly to plan.
I shot him a look that probably should’ve set his hair on fire. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he whispered, leaning in like he didn’t already know exactly what he was doing. His lips brushed mine again—soft, quick, maddeningly tender.
My heart did that annoying flip thing, my knees going a little traitorous again. “You’re gonna get us caught,” I hissed, because clearly someone had to be the voice of reason here, and it wasn’t going to be the guy who still had a post-blow-job glow in his eyes.
“I know,” he murmured, clearly delighted by the threat of scandal. “Isn’t it fun?”
He reached for my hand like we were just two innocent people walking into a holiday gathering and not freshly making-out fugitives. His fingers wrapped around mine, warm and steady, and he tugged me gently down the hall.
I rolled my eyes, my cheeks still on fire, and begrudgingly let him pull me along.
As we rounded the corner into the dining area where people were eating breakfast, Paige’s eyes immediately zeroed in on us. Her brows lifted. “You two look suspiciously happy.”
“Mistletoe,” Easton said innocently, flashing the grin that had probably gotten him out of three parking tickets and half his high school detentions…and made him a famous Hollywood star. “Makes the season merry.”
I opened my mouth to deny everything—and then promptly closed it again when I realized I had no poker face left. None. Zilch. My cheeks were still flaming, my lips probably kiss-swollen, and I was ninety percent sure my hair looked like someone had run their hands through it. Because someone had.
“Mm-hmm,” Paige said, narrowing her eyes like she was conducting a full forensic sweep. “I see.”
I busied myself with the cookie tray, grabbing a snowman-shaped treat I wasn’t going to be able to taste because my mouth still remembered Easton.
He leaned over and whispered low in my ear, “That’s your ‘trying to look innocent’ face. It’s adorable. But very obvious.”
I gave him a sharp elbow to the gut, which only made him laugh under his breath.
But despite the embarrassment coursing through me, despite my every instinct yelling that this was dangerous territory, I couldn’t deny the thrill still dancing through my veins.
The way my skin buzzed where he’d touched me.
The way his smile had settled somewhere under my ribs and refused to leave.
It had been worth every reckless, scandalous second.
And judging by the victorious gleam in his eyes, he knew it, too.
The jerk.
I’d missed him.
And that was the problem.
Because missing him…
It was starting to feel an awful lot like falling for him all over again.