Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Unbelievable.
He twisted the cap off and placed it on my counter, not even bothering to throw it away. After taking a few sips from the bottle, he made this low, exaggerated groan from deep within his chest. Normally, this scenario would have turned me on. He looked good in my kitchen.
The intensity that radiated off his demeanor had me weak in the knees, and I found it hard to breathe. He slowly licked his lips with his predatory stare as he eyed me up and down, and I knew what ran through his mind.
I should have moved.
I should have run.
But my feet were glued to the floor.
I couldn’t move them, even if I wanted to.
And the sad part was…
I didn’t want to.
I wanted to believe his reasoning on why he stopped keeping in touch with me. I swear I did, but I couldn’t yet because it didn’t take away the hurt I held on to for all these years.
Before I knew it, he stood in front of me. Pulling my hair away from my face, he grazed his knuckles against my cheek. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to lean into his embrace.
Into his comfort.
Into his touch.
Into his words.
“I’m here to take you to the Christmas parade.”
I hated hurting him.
I wasn’t that kind of person.
My eyes shot open. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“And then when it’s over and we’re walking back to our houses, I want you to bring over the rude cockapoo for a sleepover.”
“Nicholas…”
“Come on,” he countered. “You used to love our sleepovers.”
“Yeah, because we slept. I have a feeling that won’t be the case this time around.”
He grinned. “I can keep my hands to myself… now, my mouth? That wants to taste you again. I woke up wanting to eat you for breakfast, and since you decided to deny me, I fixed your house instead,” he explained in a low tone, dripping with seduction.
“Thank you.”
He smiled. “My pleasure. Now try to deny you don’t like me in your home. I dare you.”
“You’re not playing fair.”
“I’m not playing at all.”
“I’m putting my foot down.”
He laughed, a husky and throaty sound escaping from his mouth. “Your foot doesn’t even make noise when you stomp it.”
“I can’t—”
“Can’t or won’t?” He interrupted.
“I… I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I wish it were that easy. I wish I could close my eyes and pretend I can forgive you, but I’m not entirely sure I can yet. I need you to understand that.”
He sighed deeply, the frustration evident.
“At the end of the day, nothing has changed. I still live in Mistletoe Town. This is my home. I don’t even know where you live. I don’t even know how long you’ll be here. I don’t know anything, and quite frankly, neither do you because, at the end of the day, you’re only here because you have to be. We both know you wouldn't be here if you hadn’t inherited this holiday.”
I had no idea how we had come full circle. He had an effect on me like no other man ever had or came close to. He was definitely pulling out all the stops, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working.
I didn’t give him a chance to reply. “Are you trying to buy my affection by pretending you want to go to this Christmas parade with me?”
“Depends.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Is it working?”
It was pointless to argue with him, and I was beyond over it at that point. So I played the only card I had left…
“Fine. You want me to go with you, then you’re going to have to do something for me.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Little did he know, he wouldn’t like anything about the grenade I was about to throw.
Except this time…
I pulled out the pin before throwing it.
CHAPTER 14
NICHOLAS
She stepped toward me, not backing down. Not that I expected her to. “I don’t want to go with you.”
I cocked an eyebrow and folded my arms over my chest, her eyes traveling from my face to my body. “You never were a good liar. It’s time you stop acting like I don’t know you.”
Clearly still choosing to be defiant, I could see in her eyes that she was up to something.
“Maybe you don’t.”
I chose my words carefully, lacing my tone with cockiness directed right at her. I took a step toward her, expecting her to move back.
She didn’t.
“Is that right?” I replied arrogantly, centimeters from her lips. “I don’t know you? Really? What part don’t I know? Maybe I don’t know the way you move your hair to cover the side of your face when you’re nervous. Or maybe I don’t know how you bite your bottom lip when you’re deep into your baking. Or do you mean that I don’t know the way you freak out if it’s too dark in a room and you won’t walk in? Or maybe I don’t know that you bite your fingernails when you think no one is looking. Oh wait, here’s a good one. I don't know that you're trembling in your skin right now. I don’t know that your heart beats a million miles a minute, your hands are clammy, and you can’t swallow. How hundreds of thoughts are going through your mind, but the top one being how bad you want me to kiss you. How badly you want me to fuck you. How bad you want me to claim every fucking inch of your perfect body.” I paused to let my words sink in, and her flushed complexion gave away that everything I was saying was true.