by J. M. Paul
He grasps the back of my neck and yanks me toward him, so our bodies are flush. The strength and demand of his movement exudes an unexpected reaction out of me. The act is rough and assertive, but I find it hot as hell.
When we’re touching like this, his force field surrounds me, closing me in with him. And it’s like everything outside the bubble of our bodies pressing against the other ceases to exist.
God, he smells good—like peppermint, cookies, soap, and something uniquely Connor. I close my eyes against the surge of arousal taking over my insides.
“You drive me crazy,” he growls. “I want to taste you so fucking bad.”
Heat and desire are radiating from him so strongly that it takes over me, tightly wrapping me in its web of want, and I can’t think about why this shouldn’t be happening.
Panting softly, I lick my dry lips and open my eyes to find him staring feverishly at the motion.
Connor sweeps his lips across my cheek until they meet the shell of my ear where he vows, “If you’d just give in to me, Noel, you could own me heart and soul.”
His words make me shiver, and my body melts into his. If I give in, there’s no turning back, and that frightens me. The heart wants what the heart wants, and despite how hard I try to fight my feelings for him, heart trumps head every time.
Connor pulls back, his searing jade eyes trapping me. They’re full of want, desire, and promises I know he can’t keep.
“Am I allowed to kiss you yet?” There’s a quiet desperation in his voice.
He’s curved over me, his dark hair flopping on his forehead. I have almost no room to breathe.
Connor’s hand flexes against my neck, and it drives me mad.
I should say no. I should think of Cami’s feelings, our friendship, and my vulnerable heart, but instead, I nod.
“Say it, Journal Girl.” He leans in, his words whispering over my skin so that I can almost taste them.
“Kiss me, Connor. Kiss me now before I change my mind,” I say hastily.
Before I have a chance to rethink my words, his hand fists my hair, pulling my head back, and his mouth slams down on mine, taking me in a rough kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that lets me know that this moment has been fantasized about many times. These eager lips, the longing, and demand leave no room for doubt of what Connor wants from me.
He groans, and I whimper at the feel of what I’ve wanted since I met him.
Connor’s soft lips move across mine, taking and claiming everything he wants. His demeanor is fun and laid-back, but he doesn’t take the same approach while kissing me.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
His mouth hunts mine with leisurely and then hungry kisses that both intoxicate and soothe me. I sigh, and his tongue dips inside, tasting me in long, unhurried licks. Not only does Connor smell like peppermint, but he also tastes like it, and something about that drives me absolutely wild.
My hands move into his hair, pulling him even closer, if that’s possible. He growls again, deepening the kiss.
Forcing me a few steps backward, Connor cups the back of my head and the curve of my buttocks, lifting me onto the desk. Something topples over, but neither of us cares as his mouth slides against mine, a fusion of lust and begging.
“I want you, Noel.”
Oh God, how I want him, too.
“Can’t stop,” he says between kisses. “Now that I finally know what you taste like, I can’t stop savoring you.”
The need, the hunger, the recklessness in his voice is an elixir that flows down my throat and right between my legs.
Connor’s hands move up my thighs and land on my waist, and he jerks me forward, causing my legs to separate. He takes advantage of the position and slips into the open space.
Lowering his head, Connor’s mouth claims mine again, bruising my lips.
“Noles?” I faintly hear Cami calling my name.
My stomach drops, and I feel like I’m choking on air. I shove Connor away from me and slide off the desk to stand on shaky legs. When I face the door, I expect to see my best friend standing there with betrayal and sadness swirling in her eyes, but the barrier’s closed, and we’re still alone.
“I locked it.” Connor’s voice is rough, strained.
My hand pauses at my throat and then moves, my fingers tracing over my swollen lips where the taste of Connor is still so fresh.
I take a deep, steadying breath and turn back to him. He’s flushed, his chest heaving, and his hair is in disarray from my fingers. The long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing is skewed, and the fly of his jeans is strained against an impressive erection.
I clear my throat and avert my eyes so I can’t think too deeply about what could have happened between us if we hadn’t been interrupted.
His jade gaze is heavy when it lands on me, rooting me in place. I have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling, but whatever’s written in his eyes makes my heart hammer in my chest.
“Connor—”
“Christ.” Connor shoves both of his hands through his hair and turns away from me.
I jolt back at his sudden change in mood.
“I almost took advantage of you in my parents’ fucking library.” He paces the floor. “What the hell was I thinking?”
I step closer to him and grab his arm, halting his movement. “Shh, she’ll hear you.” I point toward the door.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t give a shit about Cami?” He clenches his fists.
I release my hold on him, my spine straightening. “Well, I do.”
He growls and rubs his hands up and down his face. It’s the first time I’ve seen him agitated. He’s usually so easygoing.
Connor exhales a long sigh and slightly turns away from me. His hands fall to his sides, and he tries to covertly adjust himself in his pants. That’s when I fully understand what I’ve done to him. Our kiss left him sexually frustrated and unmistakably uncomfortable.
It’s horrible of me to admit, but I find pleasure in the fact that I can affect him so intensely.
When Connor finally regards me, his eyes burn into mine.
“Stop smiling. This isn’t funny.” Despite his words, dimples dent his cheeks.
“It kind of is.” I chuckle.
He shakes his head and takes a step toward me. I hold out my hand, halting his progress.
“Stop. If you touch me, we’ll never make it back out there.” I point over my shoulder to the door.
“I want to do a hell of a lot more than touch you.” His voice is rough, raspy.
“I know.” I dig my foot into the area rug covering the beautiful hardwood floor. “I’m going to …” I nod my head toward the door.
Before I turn to leave, Connor catches my chin, forcing me to gaze at him.
“Hey,” he says softly, “you okay?”
“Of course.” It’s an automatic reply.
“I don’t mean with what happened there.” He points at the desk. “It was obvious you were okay with that.” The side of his mouth pulls into a cocky smirk.
I smack his shoulder, and he laughs before his face sobers.
“I mean, from your conversation with my dad.”
“Oh.” I fix my shirt and then smooth back the hair from my face. “I’m fine.”
The truth is, I don’t know if I’m good because I haven’t had a chance to process it, thanks to a very delicious distraction named Connor.
Maybe, instead of Butterball, I should name him Yummy Face.
The intensity in his eyes deepens and causes my heart to do a few solid thuds against my ribs.
“We should probably get back out there.” I nudge my head toward the door to indicate the festivities beyond.
Connor nods. “Why don’t you go? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Gotta take care of your … problem?” My eyes flit down to his dissipating erection. I bite my lip, trying to suppress my grin.
Quick as lightning, he grabs my hips and pulls me back a
gainst him. “Oh no, sweetheart, I’m not taking care of anything. What happened here, between you and me”—he bends, so his darkening gaze traps mine—“it’s definitely not finished. Not by a long shot.” He winks and then releases me.
I gulp down the rekindling desire and turn on wobbly legs. Connor playfully swats my butt, and I yelp.
“Shh, they’ll hear you,” he says teasingly.
I flip him a double birdie salute over my shoulders before I exit the room. Connor’s chuckle slowly fades as I make my way down the hall, toward the crowd of overzealous cookie bakers.
“There you are.” Cami grabs my arm and pulls me into the corner of the living room.
A few kids are playing a heated video game and pay us no attention.
My heart leaps into my throat.
“Are you okay? Where have you been?” Her attention focuses in on the direction where I came.
“I, uh …” I swallow. “I needed a minute to gather myself.”
Cami’s sympathetic blue eyes meet mine, and her head tips to the side. “Different stories, but David’s an incredible person, just like your parents were.” Cami tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I hope his story helps give you peace.”
“It does, but I need more time to digest everything, you know?” I lower my voice. “I’m happy things worked out for David, but being a survivor versus being the family left by donors is completely different.”
“Totally. I was just saying …” Her shoulders slump. “I don’t know what I was trying to say.”
I grab her hands and squeeze them. “I do, and I appreciate it, CC. I couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”
“You bet your ass you couldn’t have,” Cami says with a watery smile.
I bump her with my elbow. “Mini ears are listening.”
“Meh.” She waves off the kids playing video games. “Let them get a real education in the English language.”
We head back toward the kitchen to take on another recipe.
“Hi, girls. You having fun?” Laura catches my eye and gives me a soft smile, no doubt in response to the moment I shared with her husband.
“Definitely.” Cami nods.
“Of course. Thanks for having us,” I say. “Are there any more cookies to be made?”
“No, they’re done. Now, we wait for them to bake and enjoy some food and more wine.” Laura pours two glasses of white, starts to hand the goblets to me and Cami, and then stops. “You’re both over twenty-one, right?”
“They’re legal, Mom.”
My skin tingles with the awareness of Connor, and my heart skids to a halt and then begins a steady beat in my chest again.
Laura hands us the wine and then skirts around the counter to leave the kitchen but not before she pulls me into a quick hug. “Thank you, beautiful girl. Thank you.” When she pulls back, it’s her who has tears in her eyes this time. She squeezes my shoulders and then glides out of the room.
“I think she hero-worships you now,” Connor jokes.
“Great, Con.” Cami bops me with her hip. “Give Noles an even bigger ego.” She winks, takes a drink of her wine, and scrunches up her face.
“Well, it’s about time someone deems me as a hero.” I pluck a cookie off the cooling rack and shove half of it into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I moan.
When I open my lids, Connor is staring feverishly at my lips. I clear my throat, and his attention slowly makes its way up to tangle with mine.
“What are we talking about?” Trey asks when he enters our group.
“Eh, nothing. Just the fact that I’m awesome.”
I grab two more cookies and toss one to Trey. He shoves the entire morsel into his mouth.
“Stating the obvious, I see.” Trey chomps.
Connor clears his throat, drawing my attention. He gives me a secret naughty smile.
“So, are you kids all set for your ski trip?” David enters the kitchen with two baking sheets.
“Dude, I can’t wait!” Trey exclaims and pats Connor on the back. “It’s going to be so rich.”
“What ski trip?” Cami asks.
David looks between Connor and Trey and then at Cami and me. Cami and I both regard Connor and Trey.
“You didn’t invite them?” Trey asks Connor.
“It slipped my mind.” Connor clutches the back of his neck.
“What are we talking about?” Laura squashes in at the counter between David and Connor. They look like the perfect beautiful family. A Christmas postcard.
“The kids’ ski trip.” David places a chaste kiss on Laura’s cheek.
“Oh! I forgot that was this week!” Laura’s face lights up. “Is this the first trip for you girls?”
“Um …” I twist the hem of my shirt.
“Con didn’t invite them.” Trey punches Connor in the bicep.
“So, they’re good enough friends to torture with cookie-making but not good enough to invite on the ski trip, Con?” Laura frowns at her son, as if he’d declared himself to be a flying purple reindeer.
Laura’s expression mixed with my thoughts causes me to release a strangled laugh that I try to stifle with a cough. When the group peers at me like I’m Charlie in the Box from the Island of Misfit Toys, I point to the wine as if it were the culprit to my choking.
“No, that’s not it. I—” Connor starts, but I interrupt him, “It’s not a big deal.” I try to brush off the situation and save Connor.
We haven’t known each other long, nor are we that great of friends.
“No, you guys should come,” Connor says.
“We don’t want a pity invite.” The bitchy comment flies out of my mouth before I have a chance to catch it. I wouldn’t normally care, but Connor’s parents are in the room.
“It’s not a pity invite. I actually forgot the trip was this week.” Connor shrugs.
I can tell it’s a lie, but I let him get away with it.
“You guys should come. It’s always a great time.” Trey ruffles Cami’s hair, and she shoves him away before he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him.
“Do you have anything going on later this week and next weekend?” Laura asks excitedly.
“Nope. We’re both free as a bird,” Cami says before I can make up an excuse to get out of a trip I feel we’re not wanted on.
“Then, it’s settled.” Laura pulls out her phone and starts clicking buttons.
David asks Connor a question I can’t hear, and Trey and Cami are discussing something that happened at Harry’s the other day.
“Okay, two tickets are reserved for you and Cami. You’ll need to provide your full details at check-in.” Laura clicks her phone off and shoves it back into her pocket.
“What?” My mouth falls open, and my head swivels between Laura, David, and Connor. “I-I … but—”
“Good. I’m glad it’s settled.” Laura smiles.
“Wow. Thank you, Laura. But, as much as I’d love to go, I can’t afford to pay for a flight right now.” Cami chews her lip and fidgets with the hem of her sweater.
I can afford it, but I shouldn’t spend extra money if I don’t have to. My income as a writer is enough to support me, but only because my condo is paid off, and I still have a decent nest egg leftover from my parents’ trust.
“Not to worry, girls. It’s taken care of.” Laura brushes off Cami’s concern like it’s not a huge deal she just spent who knows how much on last-minute tickets to who knows where during the holidays.
“Are you sure?” Cami’s voice sounds so small and unlike her.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t.” Laura touches Connor’s forearm. “My boy works hard and doesn’t take a lot of time for himself. He enjoys this trip with his friends, so you should be there.”
Cami and I are at a loss for words, which doesn’t happen often for either one of us.
“Wow. Laura and David, I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much,” I finally manage.
As they talk, I wonder about the details of the trip. When are we leaving, and where are we going? I ponder the idea of telling them that I don’t ski. The one time I did, I woke up flat on my back with a bunch of strangers hovering over me. Gave myself a good old concussion.
“Is Emily going?” Laura asks.
Those three words draw me out of my contemplating.
Connor’s sheepish eyes seek mine before they dart back to his mom.
That’s the name that blew up Connor’s phone the night he cornered me in the hall.
So, who is Emily?
“She’s not sure if she can make it,” Connor says so quietly, it doesn’t sound like him.
“Oh, I hope she can. It’ll be good for the two of you to spend some time together. She has to be getting lonely out there.” Laura pulls a couple of sheets of cookies from the oven when the timer goes off.
“Apparently,” Connor grumbles under his breath and scratches his jaw.
“Who’s Emily?” Cami asks.
Laura places more cookies in the oven and sets the clock. “She’s Connor’s longtime girlfriend.”
What. The. Hell?
Big Sky
Detroit Metro Airport is packed with impatient travelers. Snow is falling and accumulating on the runways, and the white letters flashing on the blue electronic screens around us indicate there are several flight delays—including ours. The crowd is thick and agitated, the security people are tired and aggravated, but despite it all, Christmas is approaching, and the air is heavy with hope and excitement. People are dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters, Santa hats, and flashing light necklaces, trying to bring the holiday spirit to the spiritless.
The festiveness makes my skin itch.
I’m doing my part for the Scrooge community and wearing a red sweatshirt with two hands pointing at myself and the words This Girl Hates Christmas printed across my chest. I bought it with Connor in mind. I’m nothing if not passive-aggressive. He hasn’t had the pleasure of enjoying my clothed bitchiness because I’m freezing, so I haven’t taken off my jacket yet.
“I’m going to get another coffee. Want one?” Cami asks.
