How the Hitman Stole Christmas - Sam Mariano Page 0,43

Jasper’s grip on my neck tightens and he crashes his lips against mine.

I gasp, my heart sinking at the shock of it. Before I’ve even processed that he’s kissing me, his tongue prods my lips and he forces his way into my mouth.

All the strength melts out of my legs. I grab onto him desperately, afraid I won’t be able to stay upright if he lets go.

I don’t have to worry—letting me go is the last thing on his mind.

His hands are as greedy as his mouth. He sets his whiskey down on the counter so he can use both hands, tangling one in my hair, grabbing at my waist with the other while he devours me.

I’ve never been kissed like this before, with such unrestrained hunger. My heart flutters as his tongue overpowers mine, as he walks me back and pins me against the wall, cradling me close like I’m something so precious to him while simultaneously trapping me like he’ll never let me go.

Oh, my God.

I feel like I can’t keep up, but I try. I’m so glad my clothes are still on. With every stroke of his tongue, my arousal ratchets up higher and higher. If he touched my naked body right now, I’m not sure I could resist.

When he finally breaks away, I’m gasping for breath. I feel utterly ravished, my lips likely swollen from the force of his kisses.

I want him inside me. I want to know what he feels like, if he’s as greedy when he’s driving into my body as he is conquering my mouth.

It’s all I can think about, but it can’t happen, so I tear my gaze away from him and try to get a hold of myself.

The whiskey in my mouth is gone. I don’t know which of us consumed more of that sip. I felt the burn of the alcohol on its way down my throat, but it was overpowered by him—his mouth and his tongue and his lips, his hands and his hunger…

He was all I could focus on.

My skin is burning hot after that kiss. My heart still beats erratically and my chest feels all funny. I can’t look at him, so I walk to the tub and start running my bath.

I feel his hot gaze on me, though.

He doesn’t say a word as he watches me get the bath ready.

I don’t say a word, either, but I can’t stop replaying that scorching kiss over and over again in my head.

I wasn’t planning to kiss him. Not like that.

I wouldn’t have thought anything of something more casual, maybe a peck in front of his family, but that kiss…

I try to shove the enticing memory away before it gets me into even more trouble.

The tub is filling up and I need to get in. Unless I want to do that with all my clothes on, it’s time to take them off.

I wish I felt braver than I do. After that kiss, I think I should pile more clothes on when I’m around this man, not strip off the ones I’m wearing.

I’ve already agreed to it, though. To change my mind now would only convey how much the kiss affected me, and I have a feeling I shouldn’t arm him with more ammunition than he already possesses.

I can’t decide where to begin. I reach for the hem of my soft pink sweater, then I stop and start to go for the button of my jeans.

I hesitate.

Finally, I decide to start with my socks.

Jasper chuckles warmly, drawing my attention back to him. He’s sitting on the window seat now, mirth glinting in his eyes as he watches me struggle.

I narrow my eyes somewhat playfully, relieved that him laughing at me brings back a bit of spunk.

“What’s so funny?”

He doesn’t bother answering, just smiles and takes another sip of his whiskey.

I shoot him a look like I don’t appreciate him mocking me, but I’m only playing. Really, I’m thankful for his laughter. It was the break in intensity I needed. It makes what I’m about to do much easier.

Jasper’s voice penetrates the silence in the room as I bend to peel off my other sock. “Have you ever stripped for a man before?”

“No,” I murmur, blood rushing to my cheeks.

“Never?”

I shake my head.

He seems mildly surprised, but he doesn’t prod any further.

Once I’m barefoot, there are no more easy items to remove.

I decide to peel off my sweater first. My skin is flushed, and I feel even more vulnerable because he