“I’ve missed you,” he said, clearly changing the subject.
“I’ve missed you, too.” I lowered my voice, always worried Mom or Dad was lurking outside my closed door. “I wish it was already Christmas so we could really be together.”
“What would you do to me if we were together? In the same room? Right now?”
I could feel my cheeks go hot. That he could make me blush while we talked on the phone said a lot, especially about what I wanted to do with him if I ever got him alone. “Hug you.”
“Ah, come on, you can be more creative than that,” he teased.
“Kiss you.”
“With tongue or without?”
“Jake.” My cheeks were blazing hot.
“Let me tell you what I’d do if we were in the same room together.” He hesitated for the barest moment, just long enough for me to hold my breath in anticipation. “I’d pull you in for a bone-crushing hug, then I’d push you away from me because I’d want to see your face and look into your eyes.”
Everything inside me melted. He was a closet romantic, I swear. “What next?” I whispered.
“Then I’d cup your face and kiss you. For a long time. With plenty of tongue.”
That sounded positively dreamy.
“Annie! Come downstairs!” Mom suddenly yelled, interrupting my lust-fueled thoughts.
Sighing irritably, I told Jake, “Hold on. My mom wants me.”
“Don’t hang up,” he said as I rolled off my bed and went to the door.
“I won’t,” I promised as I started down the stairs. Mom stood in the living room, a strange smile curling her lips. “What’s up?” I asked her.
“Someone’s at the door for you.” She waved at the still-closed front door before she went into the kitchen.
Frowning, I looked from the door to her retreating back to the door once again. “Why isn’t it open?”
“Open the door, Annie,” Jake gently encouraged.
Oh. My. God.
My heart started to race and I ran for the front door, throwing it open to find Jake standing on my front porch, his phone still clutched to his ear, a giant smile curving his perfectly kissable lips.
“You’re here,” I said breathlessly into the phone, at him. Him. He stood directly in front of me, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head, his eyes taking me in, raking over me from head to toe. I rested a hand on my head, feeling the messy bun there, and I grimaced, ending the call between us with a press of my finger. I shoved the phone into my sweatshirt front pocket as I walked out onto the porch. “And I look terrible.”
He pocketed his phone as well and took a step closer. “Stop. You look beautiful. Shut the door, Annie.”
I did as he asked just before I was pulled into his open arms. We held each other close, my cheek pressed against his damp sweatshirt. His heart thumped wildly beneath my ear, and I breathed deep his citrusy scent. I couldn’t believe he was here, with me. Wrapped all around me like he never wanted to let go. “Why are you here?”
Jake stepped away and his hands went to my face, cradling my cheeks. “I convinced your parents to let me see you during Thanksgiving break.”
My lips fell open. “How?”
He took his advantage and kissed me, his mouth warm and soft, connecting with mine again and again. Until I parted my lips and his tongue slid against mine in the deepest, most bone-melting kiss I’ve ever experienced in my life.
“Haven’t you figured out I’ll do just about anything to be with you?” He finally said long, kissed-filled minutes later. His lips moved against mine when he spoke, and I smiled, unable to contain my happiness that he was actually here. In my arms, his mouth on mine, our gazes locked.
This was my biggest dream come true.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I murmured before kissing him again. His hands dropped from my face to grip my hips, pulling me in, his persuasive mouth on mine pulling me under…
A very familiar someone cleared their throat and I leaped away from Jake, my gaze going to my mother standing in the open front doorway. “Hi, Jake,” she said, her tone faintly amused.
“Hi, Mrs. McFarland.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders and tugged me in close to his side. “Thank you again for helping me with my surprise.”
“You’re welcome.” Her expression shifted into serious mom mode. “You two behave yourselves, okay? Remember what I told you, Jake.” She sent him a meaningful look before she stepped inside and quietly shut the door.
I turned to look at him. “What did she tell you?”
He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, his gaze never leaving mine. “She told me I had to respect the rules of their house.” We both laughed at that. We always had to deal with the rules—and how to work around them. “No sneaking around. No closed doors. You know, parent stuff.”
“Parent stuff,” I repeated amusedly. I stood on tiptoe and kissed his jaw. “So you’re going to be on your best behavior while you’re with me?”
“Oh, yeah.” He kissed the tip of my nose. My cheek. My lips. “But what they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?”
“Are you saying you want to sneak off?” My brows shot up.
“I can’t lie that I’m hoping for some alone time with you.” His fingers drifted across my cheek, making me tremble. “Maybe I should dare you to break your parents’ rules. Though I know you’re not much of a rule breaker …”
The rain had stopped, the clouds breaking apart to let a beam of sunlight in. Just like my mood had lightened, the weather had, too. I swear my heart threatened to burst out of my chest, I was so happy.
“I’d break the rules for you,” I told him, my eyes falling shut when his mouth hovered above mine. “I have before.”
“I know,” he murmured against my lips. “My beautiful good girl.”
“My wicked bad boy,” I whispered back, the both of us laughing softly.
Until our laughter slowly dissolved into nothing but sweet, hot kisses.
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About the Author
New York Times, USA Today, and number one international best-selling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and children. A workaholic who loves her job, when she’s not busy writing, she also loves to read and travel with her family. She writes new adult and young adult romance and is a firm believer in happily ever after. She also writes contemporary romance as USA Today best-selling author Karen Erickson. Visit her online at www.monicamurphyauthor.com.
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