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His eyes are smoldering with desire. They meet mine, and my knees tremble. My fingers itch with the need to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, but I’m frozen with anticipation.
His eyes search mine, and I see the same desire and longing mirrored in them.
Kris Nichols is the one.
He steps closer and cups my face in his hands. Every nerve ending feels electrified at his touch. We’re standing so close his breath warms my skin. I can smell the sugar cookies he ate at the office, just like I tasted earlier. The fluff of his fake beard tickles my chin. I raise my lids and realize I might drown in his eyes.
“Joy,” he whispers, his voice soft, yet there’s apparent urgency. It’s as if he’s saying my name for the first time.
A surge of emotion sweeps through me, a mixture of overwhelming fear and longing. I don’t want to risk losing him. I want nothing more than to be in his arms. But I probably should tell him how I feel first.
I put a hand on his chest. “Maybe we should talk first?”
He shakes his head and growls as he leans in and brushes his lips against mine. His touch tilts my world on its axis. He runs the tip of his tongue along the fold of my lips, slipping between them and deepening the kiss. He explores my mouth with gentle strokes.
I melt into him. Every nerve tingles. When I pull back, I’m gasping for breath.
He rips off the beard, and I finally see his entire face. I’ve seen it countless times on my computer screen. I’ve seen his expressions change from serious to eager as we talked about work. I’ve watched his eyes darken and his nostrils flare as we pleasure ourselves in front of each other, always remotely.
Now, I can gaze deeply into his eyes. I don’t have to search too far to see a fire of reciprocating love burning within. Oh, wow. I want nothing more than to be with him, loved and desired by him.
“Kris, I need to tell you something. It might be too soon, but I can’t help it. I just know you’re the one.” My voice trembles. “I love you,” I whisper.
He brushes a strand of hair back from my face. “I love you too,” he replies, his voice husky, full of emotion.
“I knew that first day I met you. I knew without a doubt that I would love you.”
“I think I did too.” With his thumb, he traces a line from my lips to my neck, sending shivers of delight up and down my spine. His hands move lower, caressing me, sending ripples of pleasure throughout my body. “I want you, Joy. I’ve waited forever to have you.”
“Well, it has been almost a year since we’ve been in the same room together.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he says. “I should have.”
“Kris, it’s a long drive. Your mother was sick and your father needed you. I understand.”
“But still—”
I press my finger to his lips.
Desperate now to be skin to skin, I step back, bring my hands to the bottom of my sweater, and pull it over my head.
He stares at me. Standing there, shirtless, in bagging red pants, white socks, and his red hat.
I lift my hands behind me and unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor. My underwear joins the pile. “Sorry for the mess. If I’d known you’d be here, I might have cleaned up. Though I’ll admit I’m not a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination.”
He shakes his head as he shoves his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pushes them down, together with his boxers, and steps clear. “I’m not sure that counts as being naughty, but I might have to punish you just the same.” He’s got the cuffs dangling from one finger.
I take a step towards him, my heart racing with excitement.
He meets me halfway, wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me close until my chest rubs his.
“Are you up for messing up my bed?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Our lips meet in a fiery kiss, tongues tangling as though fighting for control. He breaks away first and trails kisses down my neck and collarbone.
I let out a soft moan, arching my back and pressing my breasts tighter to his chest.
