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Resigned that I have to throw them away, I turn around to face Christopher, who's standing in the middle of the kitchen, watching me with an expression somewhere between amused and incredu

lous. He dropped his suitcase next to the pile of boxes containing all his belongings, which still have to be unpacked.

"Victoria?"

"You said you'd like for your apartment to smell like cookies, so I thought I'd surprise you. It was physically impossible for me to actually be here while they baked, and I didn't want to bake them before because they'd be cold. So I asked Tom to start the oven half an hour before and gave him instructions, but he set the temperature far too high. Not to be sexist or anything, but I'm never letting a man anywhere near my cookies ever again."

Christopher is silent, but I think if he fights the laughter much longer, he'll crack a rib.

"Go on, laugh," I encourage. "I'd do the same if I weren't so disappointed."

Taking my hand, he leads me away from the smelly kitchen, which is probably a good thing. Except that the smell’s spread to the whole living room, and I know it'll take days for him to get it out. Just the perfect welcome gift. Opening the doors to the balcony, we step outside into the crisp, fresh air. Even with my jacket on, I feel a little cold.

"Why are you so upset about this?" Christopher asks as I lean against the wall, watching the city lights. He's not inspecting the balcony or admiring the view. He's watching me, and I feel sillier by the second.

"Because I wanted the first night in your new home to be perfect."

"It is."

"Your living room smells like someone set it on fire."

"But you're here. That more than balances it out."

Ah, I thought I'd seen every single type of smile this man has to offer until now, but I was wrong. His entire expression lights up, and he gives off a kind of exuberance I want to bottle and carry with me everywhere.

"I thought about you constantly this week." He caresses my jaw with his thumb, a slow, deliberate movement. "All I could think about every night was seeing you when I got back. Whatever this is between us, I don't want to let it go, not before we try and see where it leads."

This is a night of many firsts. At the airport, I saw the strong and take-charge side of him. Now all I see is a raw vulnerability. He doesn't put himself out there often, and at this moment, he's going out on a limb. His vulnerability coaxes me out of my shell.

"That…." Suddenly, I'm breathless. "Yeah."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

His thumb inches up to the corner of my mouth, where it lingers for a split second before gliding over my lower lip, resting exactly in the center of it. He trains his eyes on my mouth, then snaps them back up, focusing on me.

"I admit I'm not great at trying. Actually, I'm not even good at it. I haven't tried in a long time. The list of women who'd like to have my balls removed is quite long. I once had a shoe thrown at my head during a break-up conversation. If you look closely, you'll see the mark of the heel here." He presses his forefinger to the side of his head.

He places one hand on my waist, leaning toward me until our bodies almost touch. Almost, but not quite. He tilts his head down and to the side as if wanting to rest it in the crook of my neck.

"Do you want to stay the night?" he whispers against my skin, while his thumb rubs little circles on my waist, driving me insane with need.

"Yes."

Our control snaps at the same time. Christopher kisses the base of my neck, and I lift my hand, digging my fingers into his hair, needing him closer. Needing all of him. Feeling his hot mouth on my skin while the cold autumn breeze surrounds us is exquisite.

"I want you, Victoria. Let's go inside."

"Why?"

He presses his hips against me, and that's when I feel how hard he is for me. "Because I'm one second away from taking you against this wall."

Oh my.

He covers my mouth with his and we tumble inside, a tangle of limbs, lost in the kiss. His hands are at the side of my face, cradling my head as his tongue probes and tastes, driving me insane with need.

Pulling apart, we both draw in deep breaths, then start laughing. With no small surprise, I realize I'm shaking, and so is he. We both unzip and drop our jackets on the couch.


Tags: Layla Hagen The Bennett Family Romance