Page 29 of Frost My Cookie

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“I miss touching you.”

“Oh, I definitely miss you touching me.” I stroke the side of my face, closing my eyes and imagining it’s his hand against my skin.

He groans. “Your skin is so soft, and you smell so good. Like my favorite kind of dessert. I’d do anything to touch you right now.”

“And if you could, where would you touch me?” I breathe out, my fingers skimming down my neck to my collarbone, stopping at my cleavage.

“I could tell you, Sugar. I could make you touch yourself where I want to touch you. Where I’ve been thinking of touching you for the last few weeks. I could make you come with just my words alone…”

“Ooh,” I moan softly.

“But I’m not going to. I’m going to make you wait.”

I whimper in reply, my body hot and my breaths rapid. “Why?”

“Because I want to be the one that touches you the next time you come. I want to see the expression on your face when you fall apart under me. I want to see you admit that you’re mine. That you and I are meant to be.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

He’s silent for a few seconds. “Okay?” he hesitates.

“Yes, Hayden. Okay. I want all of that, too.”

“Fuck, Natasha,” he groans. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I smile into my phone, butterflies taking off in my chest.

“Me too. More than you could ever know. I—” He stops himself.

My smile grows wider. “You?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he breathes out.

“I’ll see you then,” I say and finish the call before we say goodbye, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he was about to tell me that he loves me.

ChapterThirteen

It’s Christmas morning and Sasha, Connor, Skye, and I are sitting around my small Christmas tree drinking hot cocoa. Skye is tearing through all the presents, opening all the packages, and deciding who gets what when there’s a knock on my front door.

I bite my lip, trying to stop myself from grinning, and stand up calmly. If no one else was here, I’d be running through my living room, upturning furniture in my haste to get to the person on the other side. And as giddy and excited as I am on the inside, on the outside, it’s a totally different thing. The image I’m portraying is on par with Queen Elizabeth. Cool, calm, collected, and with a royal wave added for flare. No, really. As soon as I open the door, my hand lifts and does the royal wave thing at the man I had very naughty dreams about the night before.

“You look…” His eyes roam my face and my body. “Good enough to eat.” He takes a step forward, his green grass and dewy sandalwood scent putting my senses on overdrive. My whole body taut with anticipation to be in his proximity, to be touched by him, to have his lips on mine.

“So do you,” I breathe, reaching out my waving hand and pulling him to me by his t-shirt. He stumbles in, then catches himself, smiling, before swooping me up and into his arms, like I weigh nothing, his mouth finally connecting with mine. I moan at the sensation of having his body pressed against mine. All his hard bits against all my soft ones as his large hands cradle my ass, holding me up and pushing me against the wall. My legs wrap around his hips and my hands dig into his hair as we kiss. His tongue moving against mine with a passion I’ve been craving these past weeks. It’s even better than I remembered. Kissing him. Or maybe it’s because I’ve finally given in, deciding to take the plunge and take a chance with my heart.

“Mommy, Aunty Tash got carry!” Skye exclaims, bringing me back to the here and now.

“She’s not exactly being carried, poppet. She’s getting a-a-a-a, uhm, a cuddle.”

“Carry cuddle,” Skye says knowingly as I unwrap myself from Hayden and slide down his body. Hello, hard bits.

Blushing, I turn around. “So, this is Hayden.” I bite my lip. “Hayden, this is Sasha, Connor, and Skye.”

Hayden doesn’t blink or act awkward. Instead, he strolls to my family and hugs every one of them. I can’t believe this guy is supposed to be a ruthless businessman. In what universe would a business dragon hug everyone he just met? I’ll need to have a serious chat with all the Bloomberg reporters.

“You want pressie, Hey-hen?” Skye asks, unwrapping her arms from around his neck.

“Oooh.” His eyes grow big. “Is there one for me?”


Tags: J. Preston Romance