“I wanted to be with you.”
Noel’s chest inflates, her gaze flicking to my lips for a split second, and then the timer on the stove goes off. Noel clears her throat and turns away. “Let’s get the cookies out before they’re toast.”
My body heats as I stare at her, tracking her every step to the stove and back. Watching as she sets the potholders beside her, smiling down at the candy cane-shaped cookies we finally got right. She places her hands on her wide hips, hips I want to grab hold of and pull into my own, and smiles.
“Holy shit, they’re perfect.”
“You’re perfect.”
Her head snaps my way, the smile on her lips slowly falling as she takes me in.
My fucking chest heaves, my skin burning, fingers twitching at my sides as I push off the counter. Every step I take is slower than the last, and her palms flatten on her thighs, chin lowering, but her eyes… those eyes never leave mine.
“And smart.” Another step. “Thoughtful and kind.”
Creases form along her brow, her head tipping back a bit as I pause right in front of her, my thumb lifting to wipe them away.
Her eyes close, and she leans into my touch, her mouth ghosting along my wrist, making my voice grow gruff. “Brave and beautiful.”
I shift into her, her body made to mold flawlessly into mine, to melt against me. For me.
My thumb grazes along her jaw, slowly sliding along her lower lip.
“So fucking soft…” I murmur, my forehead falling to hers, her mouth so goddamn close.
“Roman, wha…” She swallows, her hands coming up to fist in my shirt.
My hips press to hers, and she gasps at the feel of me, hard against her soft stomach, morality long-fucking-gone, the woman of my dreams right fucking here.
To test her reaction, I drag her lower lip down, my lips twitching when she seeks out the contact. I lean in more, our mouths grazing one another’s, and she sucks in a quick breath.
“I’m going to kiss you now, Kitten,” I breathe, my mouth instantly falling on hers, my lungs filling with air I didn’t know I had deprived them of, senses flooding with cinnamon and spice.
A heavy groan whooshes past me, and I deepen the kiss, my hand tethering in her hair and tipping her head back, tongue sinking into the softest fucking mouth known to man.
She whimpers, tugging on my tee, and every inch of her liquefies for me. Into me.
Because… of me.
My free hand comes up to join the other, and I suck her tongue into my mouth, nipping at her with a heady groan. “You’re mine. You were always meant to be mine.”
Noel turns to stone, and I yank back, looking down at her.
Her brown eyes are wide, horror struck across her features, but those eyes… they’re not pointed at me.
They’re focused over my shoulder.
Frowning, I glance back.
That’s when his fist connects with my jaw.
My head whips from the impact, my lip splitting instantly, small speckles of blood spraying across Noel’s face.
She jolts, shouting, and I gently shove her aside as I spin, taking a second hit, before grabbing the asshole by the throat and hauling him backward, slamming him into the counter, trays of cookies crashing to the floor around us.
“You guys, stop!” Noel screams, sobs thickening her voice. “Stop it!”
I release him instantly, swiftly turning to her, my heart breaking as tears spill down her cheeks, her gaze on the mess around us slowly rising to mine.
“Kitten—” I jerk toward her.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I’m torn back, and this time, I don’t play nice.
I’ve waited for this for too long. I swing with my elbow, colliding with his jaw and shoving him backward.
He hops up, swiping at the split on his lip, flicking his gaze to the woman behind me, anger and disgust written across his.
Her sobs stab at my gut, and I lurch to the left, blocking her from his view, but his foul chuckle is as damaging as the disdain in his eyes. He walks backward toward the open door I didn’t hear him enter through.
“You know what, fuck both of you. I’m out of here.”
And then he’s gone.
Rigid yet trembling with rage, I whip around to Noel, darting for her, needing to hold her, to check on her, but she throws her hands up and runs away.
She flies into my room, locking herself in, leaving me to pound on the other side.
Minutes turn into an hour, and I droop against the floor, pleading with her to open it and let me in, knowing she’s tearing herself apart right now.
I imagine her lying in the center of my bed crying, curled on top of the soft gray comforter, burying herself between the green and red Christmas pillows she insisted I needed when she came over and saw no sign of the holidays in my house. They’re extremely feminine for my specific taste, but she smiles every time she comes over and sees them, so they’re worth the outrageous twenty bucks a pop.