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He levels me with a look. “Hell yeah, we are.” He growls and tilts my chin up to look at him. “I’ll make sure you don’t have any doubts come morning.”
The fire in his eyes makes me shiver and he doesn’t miss it, his lips quirking up in a grin.
He shakes his head. “I can’t believe this place. And is he the nicest guy or what?”
“I know. I had the biggest crush on him, growing up. He’s close to my brothers, especially Sutton.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Did anything ever…”
“No,” I laugh. “Blake never saw me as anything other than the kid sister.”
I take a deep breath, happy to have a second to catch my breath. Everything feels bigger, weightier with Jamison, and while I’m loving every second of it, my brain hasn’t fully caught up with it all yet.
“I always really liked Camilla too,” my words rush out. “She’s just as great. I had no idea they’d done this. I’m just…in awe. And I can’t believe the news ofthishasn’t made it around the rumor circuit yet.”
“He’s probably wanting to keep it on the down-low…his little love nest with Camilla.” He chuckles, his hands tugging me against him.
I already know that I love it when he does that.
“I should probably feel guilty about how happy I am with the way this night turned out,” he says against my lips. “But I’m not at all…”
I smile against his mouth, my senses on overload from the walk in the cold and now in this warm bubble with his hands on me, fresh snow and pine mixed with the scent that is all Jamison. When he kisses me, the lingering taste of whiskey and the cherry he popped into his mouth before we left. My hands roam underneath his coat and over his broad chest and arms, a solid shield that comes alive at my touch.
When we kiss, I don’t know how he does it, but somehow he makes it feel even better than the last time…every single time we kiss. There’s that same current, that spark that has been there since the first night we met, but it’s intensified with every look exchanged across the room, every sparring session we’ve had, every heated touch.
He kisses me senseless, until my knees are so weak, I’m relying on him to hold me up.
“Are you warm yet?” he asks as he kisses down my neck.
“After that kiss, yes,” I whisper.
He smiles, pushing my coat off my shoulders and tossing it over a chair. I shove his off and we stand there looking at each other for a moment before both moving toward the bed. His mouth finds mine again and we kiss between stripping the clothes off of each other.
He pauses when he sees what I’m wearing underneath.
“Fuck,” he says, his voice hoarse. “You’re the best present to unwrap.”
His hand traces reverently down my neck and over my barely there lingerie. This one has more skin than anything else, with a few iridescent embroidered flowers strategically placed over thinly stretched tulle.
“This one is…absolutely my new favorite.”
“You say that every time.”
“And I mean it every time.”
His thumb rolls over my nipple and he pinches it just hard enough to make me gasp.
I pull down his boxer briefs, his erection slapping against his stomach, hard and velvety and fevered when I take him in my hand and wrap my fist around him. He hisses out a curse and our mouths crash into each other. His hands are everywhere and then on my backside, squeezing my cheeks so hard I hope it leaves a mark.
Nothing feels close enough, the need in me growing, building. He lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist and I feel him right where I want him and move against him, chasing that feeling. He urges me on, his hands lifting me up and down with my tempo, making me get there faster than I thought possible.
But just as I’m about to come, he tosses me back on the mountain of covers and stands over me.
He palms his cock and grins. I lean up on my elbows, breathing hard.
“You’re looking good, Wingtip.” My voice is breathless, but the nerves from a moment ago are gone.
His nose scrunches as his body hovers over me. My eyes are conflicted over where to look because it’s just allso amazing.
