Chapter 8
SIERRA
The moment he’s kissing me, I’m sinking into him.
His lips are firm and warm. His tongue is a tease that makes me want to open and go deeper at once.
It’s even hotter than I remember, which is a pretty high bar.
I shift over him, moaning as I feel the friction of his body between my thighs.
I kiss him back. It feels so good. No responsibilities, no rules, no tomorrow.
Ryan groans triumphantly into my mouth. Then he grabs the back of my head and drags me closer. His other hand finds my thigh, digging into my skin.
Yes, I could get behind this kind of Christmas.
He grips my hips, encouraging me to grind over him.
We’re both getting friction burns if this keeps up. If it’s possible to give fewer than zero fucks, I do.
My hands sneak beneath the hem of his shirt, and the feel of his smooth skin over the muscles of his abs almost makes me come right there.
“Your body is unreal,” I mumble. “I didn’t know it was possible to have this many abs.”
He chuckles as his lips trail down my jaw, skimming just above the collar of my sweater.
“You feel pretty great yourself.”
I wish I’d made the bold choice to wear a tank top in the snow today so he’d have better access.
I shouldn’t have doubted him, because his hand slips to the inside of my thigh, his thumb rubbing me right where I ache.
Every muscle in me spasms at once.
I arch against his touch, chasing the feeling. “Yes, right there.”
Damn, it’s so good.
“Admit it,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“What?” That shallow, pathetic excuse for a voice is definitely mine.
“You like me.”
I sink my teeth into his lip. “You’re not the worst.”
His thumb stills between my thighs. His other hand, threaded in my hair, pulls me back an inch.
“What the hell?” I protest. I’m dazed from the change of sensation and the sunlight suddenly lighting up my retinas again.
Mostly what I care about as I settle my weight over his hard body—because, hello, he’s hard everywhere now, and it’s a serious distraction—is that we’re not kissing.
Unless he’s ready to dial this up another notch by using his mouth somewhere different, I do not approve of this development.
“Not the worst?” Ryan challenges, his eyelashes still at half-mast. But there’s a stubbornness on his face that serves as a warning. “Come on. I enjoy your company, and you enjoy mine. Even if you try not to. It’s not that hard to admit you’re into me.”
My mouth works. I’m still throbbing, first from his touch and now from the absence of it. “It’s not your company I’m appreciating most right now.” I rock over him for emphasis, the first drag of friction sending pleasure dancing through me. When his teeth grind together, I’m triumphant.
“If it was only that, you would have forgotten about it by now. But you haven’t. I’m willing to bet you can’t stop thinking about me.”
I still over him. “How exactly?”
His throat bobs, and he takes a breath. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
We stare each other down for a long moment until a noise splits the forest.
“Marco?” a voice hollers.
“Polo!” another from the same direction hollers.
“They’re supposed to say ‘Polo.’”
The voices are getting closer. I start to shift off him, but he pulls me back to murmur in my ear. “If you think I’m going to let you pretend this didn’t happen, you’re out of your mind.”
I trip off Ryan and shove myself to standing.
“You need any help getting that tree back?”
Miles and Atlas appear in the clearing just as I’m brushing the snow off my pants.
My cheeks are hot. I hope to hell I don’t look as flushed as I feel.
“We’ll take it,” I answer for both of us.