Page 31 of All Snowed Gin

“Yeah, baby?” I return, still lost in our trance.

“I…I want…need…” she trails off, eyes fluttering shut as I nip at her skin.

“What? What do you need?”

Even in the hushed tone, I can hear the gravel in my voice, my own need shining through.

“You.”

13

ROSE

Meatballs are forever ruined.

Never again am I going to be able to look at one and not think about this moment. The feel of Pierce’s lips on my skin, nipping at my neck. The heat radiating off him. The hardness of his erection pressed against my ass, making me feel like the most wanted woman in the world. His arms wrapped around me, our hands intertwined as we lose ourselves in whatever this is.

My statement lingers in the air, swirling around us, tugging at our hearts. Or, well, mine anyway. Although the groan Pierce lets out leaves me pretty sure I’m not alone in that.

He presses a kiss right where my neck and shoulder meet—a spot I didn’t know was so sensitive until Pierce. Now, just the idea of his lips there makes my body warm, which is exactly what is happening now. Heat spreads through me, my insides turning squirmy, making me want to hand over control to him. Something else I never thought I’d enjoy. But there’s something about Pierce that makes me trust him.

Something that I know deep down inside. How, I’m not sure. But I know it. He’s not going to hurt me. Not unless pain was on my wish list. Which it is not. He seems to know that too, without even asking. When he looks at me with those deep, dark eyes, it’s like he’s seeing into my soul.

“Pierce…” I say on a long exhale, more of those neck kisses eating away at my resolve. Or should I say lack of resolve.

I spin around, my body rubbing against his as I move, his erection even more prominent as it slides across my body. I open my mouth to continue, but Pierce cuts me off with a kiss. It’s hot, heavy, and totally controlling, yet slow and deep. His tongue finds mine as he pushes me against the island with his hips, and his hands land on the granite with a smack, caging me in. I moan into the kiss, the simple thought of being pinned in like this almost too much.

“Shhhh,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to nibble on my bottom lip. “Now’s not the time for talking.”

His mouth is on mine again, this time so fast I barely have time to catch my breath. Fuck, can this man kiss. Knees wobbling, lady bits standing at attention, I can feel myself growing wetter by the second, all from his kiss. He hasn’t even grabbed a boob yet and here I am, revved up and ready to go.

Placing my hands on his shirt, I move them up over his pecs, wanting to drawing him closer. Until I remember.

Raw meat.

We were making meatballs.

I gasp, trying to pull back, my mind suddenly whirring with worry. I can feel the look of panic on my face, my hands frozen on Pierce’s chest, sure that I just ruined the mood. Because nothing says unsexy like raw meat.

Leaning back, Pierce gives me a smirk, a single chuckle tumbling over his lips. He kisses my forehead, then my nose, and finally chastely on the lips, each one leaving a trail of heat in its wake. It sends a shiver through me, my body clearly confused on how it’s feeling. Hot, cold, who knows. Turned on—that’s the answer.

Turned all the fucking way on.

“Stay,” he commands, but not like one would a dog. His voice is hard, leaving no room for questioning or debate, yet still gentle. One little word, but it holds the promise of so much more.

He turns around, messes with something at the sink, and in the blink of an eye is back, wet paper towel in hand. Starting at my elbow, he wipes me down, slowly, surely, in the same way that some men wax their car, every millimeter getting the same amount of attention. When that hand is clean, he does the other, again, not missing a single spot. Then, he opens a can of wipes on the counter next to me. Where did those come from?

Their distinct citrus scent fills my nostrils, leaving no doubt what they are. Pierce starts in the same place as he did with the paper towel, moving at the same languid pace. My heart leaps as the cloth glides over my forearm, followed by the drag of his rough fingertips. I fight back another shiver, trying not to let myself be overcome by this. Leave it to Pierce to make disinfectant sexy.

“All clean,” he says, winking, wiping himself off, and dropping the wipes.

He places a hand on either side of me, caging me in again, leaning in so our foreheads are touching. I can feel his breath against my lips, calling out to me. I want to kiss him so damn bad, but I don’t dare move.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’.” His voice is deeper than normal, his southern accent thick, dripping with a soulful lust that I feel to my core. “I can think of a hundred and one ways to take you. All sorts of things that are going to put us so high on the naughty list, that we might earn us a permanent spot.”

This time, I can’t stop the shudder. It starts at the top of my head and runs the length of my body, straight to my tiptoes, taking all the air in my lungs with it. I swear on Father Christmas himself that it just got a million degrees hotter in here. I’d think there was something wrong with the oven if I didn’t know we hadn’t even turned it on yet.

Nope, this is all Pierce. Him and that mouth of his.