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Isabella sweeps past me. “Knox, why don’t you and Saylor take the platters of potato and pasta salad to the kitchen.”
The mistletoe. It’s the perfect opportunity to kiss her with a built-in excuse–which is why I asked Liam to get a sprig of it and put it up somewhere in the house. I’m not opposed to stacking the deck.
“Yes, that’s a great idea.” I let go of her hand, stand, and grab the white bowl of what was pasta salad. Now, it’s a couple of stray fusilli noodles and three tomatoes.
“What?” She blinks like my abrupt departure has her spinning.
“Here.” Isabella hands her the bowl of potato salad. “Go with Knox to the kitchen. I need to rest my feet.”
“Oh, okay.” She nods and follows Isabella’s command.
When she turns to walk to the kitchen, I smile at Isabella. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She winks and joins everyone else in the living room.
As I follow behind Saylor, my skin is tight as my heart thunders in my chest. I’ve not been this worked up about kissing a girl since my first kiss at fifteen. Even then, I wasn’t worried Tania would slap me in the face. I don’t know how Saylor will react.
My gaze darts to the mistletoe tacked at the threshold between the dining room and the kitchen.
“Where should I set this?” Saylor turns in a circle beside the oversized island.
“Anywhere.” I drop the bowl onto the counter, grab the dish from her hands and drop it next to the one I carried, and cup her cheeks.
Her eyes widen as if she’s shocked by my actions. Don’t slap me. “Mistletoe.”
“Mistletoe?” Her brows arch.
“Yes, we walked under the mistletoe.” I jerk my head toward the opening.
“Ohhh…”
“Can I kiss you?”
She licks her lips. “Okay. Sure.”
Not the most convincing agreement, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. My lips brush against hers, and she whimpers, making my cock jerk in appreciation.
Her hands clutch my chest, and she raises onto her tiptoes, increasing the pressure of the kiss. I wrap my arms around her and draw her to me until we’re pressed together from thigh to chest. Her hands slide along my shoulders until they’re around my neck and draw me down to her.
When she inhales, her breasts rub against me. Having her in my arms feels better than I anticipated. It’s like holding a ray of sunshine in my hands. I tilt my head to get a better angle and trace the seam of her lips with my tongue. I’ve never wanted anything this badly in my life. She’s like molten lava in my arms.
I thrust my tongue into her mouth, and she comes alive, digging her fingers into my hair and lunging her tongue against mine, stroking and thrusting until we’re both gasping for air.
“Kissing you is heaven,” I mumble against her lips, and she presses her belly into my erection.
“You’re good at that.”
“Good at what?” I ask as I trail kisses along her jawline.
“Kissing,” she sighs and molds her body against me.
“I would like to do a lot more than that.” I nibble on her earlobe, and she moans.
“God, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop until you tell me to.” I walk her backward until she’s pressed into the island, rocking into her. I want to sink into her hot, wet sex. She pulls my face to hers and mates with my mouth, dragging me past the point of no return. She wraps her leg around mine and grinds her clit against my thigh.
Shit. I can’t have sex with her here. I’m not a teenage boy sneaking into the bedroom of one of my friends to bang a girl, but remembering that is a struggle.
