Three Christmas Wishes - Krista Wolf Page 0,34
in a half-circle, Valerio broke our goodnight kiss and winked before exiting the room.
I was left standing over Kade, who was still lounged out in his kitchen chair. He swirled the bottle of beer in his hand before chugging the rest of it, while maintaining eye contact with me the whole time.
“Guess it’s you and me,” I smiled, wondering why my stomach was suddenly doing flip-flops.
Kade eyed me hungrily, despite already having sacked three pieces of pizza. He looked like a sexy monster, considering whether to have me for dessert.
“Guess so.”
“Why do I suddenly feel all the nervousness of being on a first date?” I asked.
“Maybe you’re afraid I’m going to throw you over my shoulder again,” he said, pushing away the last piece of crust. “Carry you off and plunder you even more thoroughly than last night.”
I swallowed, then arched an eyebrow. “Are you?”
His smile was all business, all pleasure.
“What do you think?”
Twenty-Six
SLOANE
He showed up ten minutes after I’d finished brushing my teeth. Five minutes after I’d finished my face-washing routine, patted it dry, and climbed into bed.
The room wasn’t nearly as warm as the boys had promised. Then again, they’d been working outside in T-shirts. Their definition of warm and my definition were probably two very different things. I remembered Valerio mentioning an extra blanket in the closet. I rose reluctantly, flipping back the comforter and standing to check on it just as Kade entered the room.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
He was looking at me like I was dressed in a hazmat suit instead of my most comfy pair of sweats.
“My sleep clothes.”
I watched him pull his own shirt over his head, giving me a wide open view of his incredible physique. Before I could begin drooling, he shook his head.
“Off,” he said, motioning me with one finger. “Top and bottom.”
There was a cool confidence in his voice; the command of someone used to being obeyed. Without even realizing it I was dropping my sweatpants. When I stopped there he gave me another look, and I eventually shrugged out of my shirt as well.
“Much better.”
I was standing there in nothing but a G-string, my arms crossed over my chest. Not from modesty, though. Strictly from cold.
“Get beneath the covers,” Kade instructed. His eyes remained glued to my body, however. “I’ll make you warm.”
I did what he said, watching as he slid into the bed from the other side. He wore boxer-briefs. Nothing else. A second later he was pulling me against him, skin to skin…
Ohhhhh YES!
He was so amazingly warm! And though his body was smooth and hard and unyielding, his touch remained gentle as he pulled me into the crook of his arm.
“This better?”
I could feel the heat transferring from his body to mine, and it felt so good! It made me wonder how he could be so warm. As if he had some kind of internal furnace or something.
“You alright here?” Kade asked softly, as we stared together at the ceiling. “I mean… I know you must feel displaced. That apartment was your home, and I know what it’s like to have to leave home abruptly.”
There was a story there, and one I wanted to ask about. But not tonight. Not now.
“Yes,” I answered. “I’m good, thanks. And that wasn’t ever really my home, now that I look back on it. Not as long as Drake was there. He never really let me make the place mine.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a control freak,” I answered. “The kind of guy who plans each month ahead of time, with a pen, a highlighter, and a written calendar. He made the grocery lists, and when I brought it all home I wasn’t allowed to miss anything. And it had to be put in exactly the proper place or there was hell to pay.”
Even just thinking about Drake I let out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Think that type of person would leave me in charge of decorating?”
“No,” Kade agreed. “Probably not.”
“Exactly.”
“So why’d you stay with him for so long?”
It was a fair question. One I’d been asking myself a lot lately.
“Honestly?” I asked. “I really don’t know. I guess it was out of habit. Rather than look around and see things for what they were, I just focused on being… comfortable.”
“Only you weren’t comfortable.”
“No,” I agreed. “No I wasn’t.”
“Are you comfortable now?”
He flexed his mighty arm, pulling me tighter against him. In response I slid one leg over his, stopping it at the wonderfully-warm bulge in his boxer-briefs.
“More than ever.”
We lay