“Oh, but we do,” he pressed, and I smiled.
“Honey—“
“This is our first Christmas together, Angie,” he pointed out. “The first of many, if I have anything to say about it.” I stilled, my eyes wide, not hiding in the least how his words surprised me. Once the surprise washed over me, I realized I felt the same way. Who was I kidding? His words and actions meant everything.
“One of many, huh?” I asked and let my hand stroke his beard.
“Yeah….” He stroked my face, his eyes intense and liquid at the same time. “If you’ll have me.”
“If we’re talking about more than a Christmas, does this mean we… what we have…”
“I think you know the answer without having to ask, Angie.” I knew he was right.
“Yeah… I do.” I pressed my lips together to try to stop the smile from appearing on my face but couldn’t help myself. “I can’t believe this is… for real.”
“It is. It’s very, very real.” I watched lines form at the corners of his eyes before I lost sight of him in front of me.
We sat there for a couple of minutes. and I felt his heat more than against my skin. I felt it in my bones and soul. When he pulled away, his hand stroked my hair, stopping at my chin. “If we stay like this, we are going to end up in bed again.”
“Mmm… and the problem would be?” I pushed. As fun as cookie making sounded, he sounded better.
“You are too fucking tempting, Angie Lopez.” We might not have known one another long, but I knew that look in his eyes.
“I’m certainly glad you think that, Nathan Sharpe.”
“But we can’t do this. We only have a couple of hours left before I gotta go to make some Christmas memories,” he reminded me, making my heart hurt. I didn’t want him to leave.
“So, that makes it cookie time?” I asked with a sigh, trying my hardest to look semi-chipper about it.
“Exactly.” He winked, standing us up before taking my hand and walking us hand in hand toward my kitchen.
“So, what kinds are we making?”
“I figured we would start with chocolate chip and some snickerdoodles,” he shared, which made me a little happier.
“Start with, huh?” My lips twitched.
“I was thinking, next week when I come back, after that festival we talked about going, maybe we can make other kinds,” he continued, and even though he was being slightly bossy in planning our time, I liked it. I liked the way he was thinking ahead, making plans. Sure, they were all to try and make our first big holiday special, but it was more than that. It was the fact he wanted to be with me.
“How about some of those nutty snowball cookies?” I suggested, liking the idea of the memories we would create here.
“The ones with powdered sugar?” he asked.
“Yes. Those,” I confirmed, excitement clear in my voice. “They would be great with coffee Christmas morning.”
“I’ll find a recipe online,” he quickly said, and I smiled.
“Okay. Send it to me, and I’ll make sure we have all the ingredients waiting for us,” I planned.
I was about to walk away from him to grab things from the fridge to make the first batch of cookies when he grabbed my hand, pulling me back in his arms, his back against the counter, the sun shining through the window behind him making him look absolutely beautiful.
“I’m falling deep for you, Angie,” he shared, and I loved he did.
I’d been down this road before. In the past, in a relationship where the future looked possible. But the past had been a guessing game. My ex had never been forthcoming, not the way Nathan was. Sure, I wasn’t sure of the logistics of the future, but I knew Nate was making where he stood as clear as he could, and I appreciated it.
“Good,”—I stepped on the tips of my toes, his lips meeting mine halfway—“because I’ve already fallen,” I admitted softly right after pulling away.
“Angie—“ His stare searched mine, but I shook my head.
I shrugged. “Come on… we have cookies to make.” Suddenly finding myself wanting to create the memories he was hungry for.
Whether we worked out or self-imploded, I wanted something to look back on and smile.
I’m not sure how I knew, but I did.
Deep down I knew, baking cookies together, finding and decorating the perfect tree yesterday, and Christmas movie marathons would be one of the most beautiful things I would look back on one day, gray and old, as my most cherished moments.
It had all to do with the man looking at me like I was his favorite dessert.
Chapter Eight
Nathan
“What next?” she asked as she placed the covered chocolate chip cookie dough into her fridge. He looked around. Knowing what she had in her pantry and spice cabinet, he tilted his head.
“What do you think about snickerdoodles?”
“Mmm…” She gave him a shy smile, and he tried to tamp down his now hardening cock at the sound. Damn, she was sexy. From head to toe and every centimeter in between. “It’s a highly underappreciated cookie.”
“How so?” he kept the conversation going, pulling out the sugar, cinnamon, and measuring cups and placing them next to her on the counter.
“They are this perfect little cookie. Not too sweet, not too bland, just perfect with any drink of choice.”
“Very wise. Okay, you don’t have to twist my arm.
“What?”
“Breathe, Angie. You’ve talked me into it.”
“Talked you into what?” She laughed, looking at him.
“Making some snickerdoodles. We should get started.”
“We just made a triple batch of chocolate chip cookie dough!” she pointed out, and he grinned.
“So? Are you the cookie police?” he asked with a shrug to his shoulders, holding her eyes, hoping she would agree with him.
“Are you serious?” she asked, and he watched her try to subtly sneak a peek at the wall clock in her kitchen. His girl was worried about the last couple of hours they had together. She shouldn’t, though; he would take a later flight if he had to.
“Yeah.” He gently bumped his shoulder to hers. She looked up at him, and he knew what she was thinking.
She didn’t want him to go. He didn’t either. His departure hung over them like a cloud he wanted to shake away. He wanted to create more memories with her, squeeze the life out of every moment they had left this weekend.
“One batch?”
“Of snickerdoodles?”
“Why not?”
“Wouldn’t you rather… I don’t know…” She bit her lip and her eyes dilated further. He knew what she was hinting at.
Them. Together. Tangled up in the sheets.
But he had a better idea.
“Of course, I would,” he answered honestly.
“Then?” She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him to her room, but he didn’t budge; his dick hated him for it. “Come on. You get the dry ingredients, and I’ll mix the cinnamon and sugar to roll ‘em.”
“You’re serious?”
“I need to prove to you you’re so much more than sex to me.”
“Or—“
“Come on,” he pushed, his dick jerking in protest. She looked at him, her expression unreadable until she licked her lips and nodded.
“So, you get the easy job with the cinnamon and sugar, huh?” she joked, and he shrugged.
“We can switch,” he suggested. She let go of his hand and grabbed the flour, handing it over.
He quickly had the dough set up as they talked about Christmas shopping for their families. She was lining the cookie sheets when he got the bag of flour. About to put it away, he turned and looked at her, feeling playful, his dick hard behind his jeans.
“What?” she asked, her lips quirking upwards. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked cautiously.
“Like what?” He raised a brow. A nervous giggle escaped from her.
“Like that.” She pointed
at him, obviously knowing what he was up to, but he wasn’t going to give in. It would ruin the fun.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said as charmingly as he could while slipping his hand into the flour and bringing it out. His hand was covered. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, pointing at him. “You better not!”
“Better not, what?” he asked playfully, stepping toward her. She put her hands up.
“Nathan.”
“Angie,” he retorted in the same serious tone she had given him. Then he caged her in, her front pressed against his chest with her back against the counter.
“What are you—“ He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he smeared a light coat of flour over her cheek, the white powder standing out against her pretty, tanned skin. He watched her mouth open, her face full of dismay.
“Oh, my God, you didn’t.”
“Babe, you have a little something on your face.” He touched her other cheek with the same hand until his fingers went into her hair.
“I have something on my face, huh?” She giggled, her eyes twinkling like dark jewels.
“I was just trying to clean it off.” He shrugged, stroking her hair.
“You were, huh?” she challenged, slightly shaking her head, humor gleaming in her eyes.
“I was. But darn, you’re messy.” He laughed, so completely captivated by her he didn’t see she had her own plan of attack as she reached for the bowl of raw dough next to her. Next thing he knew, her hands where on his neck, smearing cookie dough from his ear down to his collarbone.
“Oh no,” she teased. He could feel bits of dough falling down the front of his shirt, while others made their way down the skin of his chest, clinging to his chest hair. “You’re messy, too.” She laughed back, and he couldn’t help himself. He needed to taste her.
“We’re both dirty now, huh?” he asked, his voice husky as his mouth hovered over hers.
He could feel her warm breath fan over his lips and couldn’t hold back. He needed to be closer to her. Pinning her to the counter, he ground his thick erection against her soft stomach. Need rushed through him, and by the way she was looking back at him, she knew exactly how dirty they were about to get.
“Very dirty,” she whispered against his lips, and his body throbbed. He deserved a damn medal for not having ripped her pants off and thrusting into her like the wild animal she brought out in him.
“Look at that...” He licked her neck and pulled the sugar and cinnamon bowl closer, grabbing a pinch of the mixture and sprinkling it over her pulse point. “We got you all messy,” his voice rumbled over her skin. He could feel her tremble beneath his touch.
Yes,” she hissed as he licked the sugary concoction off her naturally sweet skin. He did the same to the other side, sprinkle the mixture over her damp skin and licking it off, enjoying each and every sound she made. The tight hold he had on his control was breaking. His hands roamed down her torso to her hips
“Up you go.”
“I do?” she asked a second before his hands moved to her ass and he lifted her up.
“Mmm.” He settled her on the counter and stepped between her legs, pulling her soft, cottony tunic up and over her head.
“What are you—“
“Shhh... trust me?”
“Yes,” she immediately answered. He loved that.
With determination and confidence, he reached the waistband of her leggings and pulled them down her legs until she kicked them from her bare feet. Hitting the ground, he kneeled in front of her and looked up at her eyes.
“Bra’s pretty, but take it off,” he ordered. Her sharp intake of breath was palpable in the space. She blinked, and before he opened his mouth to repeat himself, she did as he’d asked.
She was nude from head to toe, not a stitch of clothing on her, with the exception of the hair tie in her messy bun and her baby-blue lace thong.
“Nathan,” she breathed as his mouth kissed the smooth skin on her inner thighs.
“Love how you say my name when I’m between your legs.” he murmured, taking a nip and grinning at the soft gasp that escaped her lips.
“Baby, I want—“
“Shh…” he whispered. “I know what you want, babe. You just have to be patient, because your man’s hungry.”
“For cookies?” she asked before moaning as he continued his way up and down her thighs, peppering them with open-mouthed, wet kisses.
“Fuck,” she cursed, and he smiled against her flesh. His hand left one thigh and reached for the bowl with the sugary sweetness, but he didn’t get a good a hold and it fell, sprinkling all over the floor and him. “Oh no.” She tried to move, but he tightened his grip on her thighs.
“Stay,” he ordered gruffly, and she nodded, licking her lips. He swallowed hard then looked at the floor. The bowl had more than enough left for what he needed. His thumb hooked the gusset of her panties and slid it over her pretty lips until he was greeted with her dewy wetness.
“So damn wet,” he murmured to himself. Sliding his finger into her, he shut his eyes. “Tight,” he groaned.
As he slowly worked her with his fingers, he slid in and out again and again, her wetness coating his fingers, her wet heat making his cock jerk.
Opening his eyes, he watched her writhe and squirm as she begged and moaned for more, so who was he to deny his girl? Before he knew it, her warm walls started to convulse and he watched as she threw her head back in pleasure. Her sweet lips parted and the sound of his name never sounded better.
The wetness that coated his fingers and the way she kept writhing for more made him break the small of control he had left. Jerking his pants down with his boxer briefs as he stood, he brought her to the edge of the counter and plunged into her with one deep, fast thrust.
She felt like heaven and home, and just like every time, he sunk deep into her until they were one. By the look in her eyes he knew she felt the same way. He couldn’t stop himself. She gripped his shoulders, leaning her head in closer to his neck, the sounds of her soft whimpers and moans making his balls draw up tightly. As he held on to her waist tightly, she scooted even further to the edge of the counter, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, and he couldn’t hold back. He worked them up into frenzy.
He moaned her name; his sounded like a prayer from her lips as the sound of their bodies slapping together echoed in the kitchen. He felt his release coming hard and fast.
“Angie,” he gritted. Thankfully, he didn’t need to hold back too much, because just then, she bit his shoulder hard. The pain stung but pushed him into the best freefall humanly possible as he emptied himself into her tight body while she joined him. Coming with someone was intimate on its own, but doing it with Angie, there and then, he knew he had to get working on not ever having to leave her side again.
Angie
“Are you sure you don’t want to take more?” I asked him an hour after the snickerdoodle attempt. But I couldn’t get myself to step out of the safety of my kitchen.
Looking around the messy space I knew would take hours to clean, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
Flour and sugar dusted the countertops and tiled kitchen floor, and mixing bowls and whisks sat in the sink as they soaked. But it had all been worth the mess we had made.
“Babe, I have more than enough.” He grinned as he showed me the huge Rubbermaid container he was taking back to Miami with him. “These alone are going to have me in the gym an extra hour a day.”
“I have all that cookie dough in my freezer.” I slightly pouted, knowing that cookie dough was a bad idea because of how good they had come out.
Who knew baking cookies with a guy could be so much fun? Well, making a mess had been better.
“Good, we can bake some Friday night.” He winked, closing the space between us. “I bet you would taste delicious with some melty chocolate on you this time.” His dirty talk made me giggle and melt into his body.
“Ha. It’s cute you think th
at will last till then,” I joked before giving him a kiss.
“If not, we can make more,” he said when he pulled away, grabbing my hand.
“I gotta go,” he said the words I had been trying to avoid.
“I know.” I rubbed my face. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Being a weenie when it comes to this part.” My lips quivered and I leaned against the kitchen counter.
“This part?”
“The whole saying bye stuff… I’m not the greatest at it and…“ My voice cracked and I bit down on my lip. I didn’t want him to go.
“It means you want me to come back, babe,” he said, wisely hitting the nail on the head as he pulled me away from the counter and right into his arms in the middle of my kitchen. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he reassured me, and I sighed, breathing him in and out slowly. My mouth watered at his scent. He was an aphrodisiac and a comfort at the same time.
“Yeah. I know. It’s just saying bye… I’m just…” I was tongue tied and wasn’t making any sense. “It will get easier.” I shrugged while I mumbled my answer before looking down.
My feet were bare and my toes unpolished and simply plain. A wave of insecurity washed over me. He lived in Miami, the land of beautiful women, bikinis, tanned skin, and sunshine.
“Plus, I bet you miss the weather at home?” I couldn’t help but ask as I peeked up at him through my lashes.
“Baby, the only thing I miss, even standing here in front of you, is you.” He stroked my face. “And I’m sorry if this makes me an asshole, but I don’t want saying good-bye to be any easier for you. I don’t want you to get used to me leaving. Ever.”
“How else do you see this—“
“Shh… I promise. Next week, I will have more answers,” he hinted ominously. There was something about his voice that told me how important it was not to press for more information, so I didn’t.
“Okay.”
“That easy?”
“Are you insinuating I’m difficult, Mr. Sharpe?” I teased and enjoyed the way his nose nuzzled mine.
“Not at all, Miss Lopez. Just thought you would try to find out a little more,” he shared, and I shrugged.
“You promise to take me to the winter festival?” I asked him and watched as he nodded.
Hope Falls: Cookies & Kismet (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 7
