Page 51 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

It’s as if the world around us shrinks. The noise of the hotel, the holiday music drifting from downstairs, all of it falls away.

There’s just Ryder, and this space between us that feels too charged with energy to ignore.

I’m trying to breathe, trying to figure out what’s going on, but then he’s there.

His hand is on my cheek, warm, firm, and before I can say anything, before I can even think about the million things I should do, his lips crash into mine.

It’s sudden. Unexpected. And completely overwhelming. His mouth is urgent, like he’s been holding something in all night and finally can’t wait any longer.

The kiss isn’t soft or gentle. It’s fiery and raw. All the moments we’ve shared today —the fun, the laughter, the tension —are finally colliding into one breathtaking, impossible-to-undo moment.

I freeze for a second, just absorbing the heat of it, but then everything clicks. Every part of me leans into it, into him.

I kiss him back, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his jacket. The world tilts, spins, and I forget about everything… everything except this.

The cool hallway, the snow outside, the hotel. None of it matters. All that matters is Ryder, and this kiss, and the way my heart feels like it might explode from the sheer intensity of it all.

My hands slide up under his shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his back, the way he shifts and groans under my touch. He pulls away just long enough to look at me, his breath ragged, eyes dark with something fierce.

“Sunny…” he murmurs, trying to control himself, but he can’t. His lips are barely an inch from mine, his words sending a shiver straight through me.

I swipe the key card backwards, then upside down, before it finally works. The lock flashes green.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I twist my fingers into the cotton of his shirt, the warmth of his chest radiating through the fabric. The heavy hotel door swings shut with a pneumatic hiss.

His breath catches as his hands find the shoulders of my jacket, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The silk lining slips down my arms, pooling at my feet. The pad of his thumb traces the hollow beneath my collarbone, then pauses at the metal zipper tab.

He holds my gaze as he draws it downward, tooth by metal tooth, the sound barely audible above our breathing.

He gasps as he looks at me, his eyes darkening to the color of wet slate. The heat of his gaze traces every curve beneath my champagne-colored lace, making my skin prickle.

His breath catches. His pupils dilate until only a thin ring of gray remains. He doesn’t blink as his gaze follows the edge of champagne lace across my skin.

The air conditioning raises goosebumps along my arms, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me.

I bite my lower lip and reach behind my back.

One hook.

Two.

The tension in the fabric releases. I roll my shoulders forward slightly and the straps slip down, one after the other. The bra drops to the floor, a whisper of lace against carpet.

He eliminates the space between us in a heartbeat, his body pressing against mine. His mouth finds my nipple, drawing it in, and a moan escapes my lips.

My back arches, thighs clenching, but he doesn’t linger. He trails kisses lower, and lower still, until he’s positioned between my legs, hands spreading my thighs apart with a possessive touch.

He pinches my panties between his teeth, causing me to gasp. My legs tremor with desire as he yanks the material down while slipping to his knees.

“Ryder, please…” I whisper, desperate with need.

He exhales, hot and heavy against my center, and grins, a wicked and devastating smile.

“Oh, Sunny, I don’t know if youreallywant me.”

A helpless, needy sound escapes me, humiliation and arousal churning in my stomach.