Everything Morgan owned pulsed.
Electricity crackled in the air.
Morgan swallowed down, steadied her hand, then rubbed her palm up and down the outside of Ali’s shirt before slipping it underneath.
Ali sucked in a sharp breath.
Morgan closed her eyes as she continued to stroke Ali’s back. She was right back to last night. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this. The last time she’d touched someone and never wanted to stop. She couldn’t fight this. She didn’t want to fight this. And by the look on Ali’s face when Morgan opened her eyes, she was having trouble fighting it, too.
“Morgan,” she began.
Tension rippled between them, so thick Morgan could almost see it and taste it. Anticipation patrolled her skin. Excitement thumped in her brain.
Morgan had never felt this turned on in her life.
“Yes?”
“What am I doing? What are we doing?” Ali reached up a hand and slid her fingers around the back of Morgan’s neck.
The bells on her jumper jingled.
Ali took a step back, ripped it off, then resumed her position.
She smelled of gingerbread, of sugar, spice, and all the things Morgan had always wanted.
“I’m not jingling the rest of the night,” Ali said. “Also, I’m trying so hard not to want you. But you’re killing me looking like that.”
They were the last words she uttered before she closed the space between them and pressed her lips to Morgan’s.
If she was asked later in kissing court, Morgan would point to this action.
Orchestrated by Ali.
She kissed her first.
She didn’t stop, either. Ali’s lips were like painted gold on Morgan’s. They kissed her furiously, the same way Ali rode a tandem. Full on, no fear. Ali’s arms wound around her.
Morgan’s mind unwound in crazy time.
They still didn’t make a sound. Noise would taint the moment, which was all fast lane, warp speed.
Eventually, Morgan pulled back, panting.
When they stopped kissing, broke their lips apart for a few seconds, Ali’s pupils were dark with questions. Her fingertips stumbled as she flicked open the buttons on Morgan’s shirt, pulled back her lacy black bra, then took Morgan’s nipple into her mouth.
It wasn’t just Morgan who wanted this.
“I fucking love your breasts, have I told you that?” Ali’s words were husky, tangled.
Morgan stared, not able to form a coherent thought. “Not in so many words, but in actions…”
Ali sucked her left nipple in reply. “I didn’t want you to be in any doubt.” She ran her hands over them once more, then tugged on Morgan’s fingers until she followed her down to her knees and onto the fireside rug.
Desire dripped down Morgan like a slow waterfall. It came in unhurried, deliberate drops that slid along her skin, their slick trails leaving steam in their wake.
Ali eased off Morgan’s shirt, and she shrugged off her bra. Before she knew it, Ali was topping her, grinding into her. She slipped a thigh in between Morgan’s legs before travelling south, kissing Morgan from her neck to her navel.
Morgan glanced up at the Christmas stockings, the names on the front blurring into one. She closed her eyes. Now was not the time to be thinking of family. She didn’t want to think about anyone but Ali. The two of them, and this moment.
