Once I unlock the door, I quickly spin, my shoulders falling against it as I watch my man walk up to me.
The prolonged anticipation is killing me, making my heart beat out of my chest, and Noah senses it. A single dark brow lifts as he grows suspicious.
“Juliet…”
“We missed so much time, Noah. I want it back.”
“Baby.” Anguish fills his voice, deep creases forming along his eyes as he reaches for me.
I grip his wrist, freeing his hand from my cheek and folding his fingers closed. I kiss his knuckles, and a frown builds across his face.
Twisting the knob, I push the door open behind me, blindly taking backward steps inside, because I don’t want to miss his reaction.
It takes him several moments to force his eyes from mine, but reluctantly, his are pulled to the living room.
His eyes widen, flicking across the space, and then they land on me.
“Ari…” he barely whispers.
I snag the red and white hats off of the back of the couch and walk to him. He bends the slightest bit, his gaze never leaving mine as I tug the Santa hat onto his head, and when I go to pull mine on, he takes it, placing it on me himself.
His arms come around me, his thumb teasing beneath my bottom lip, and the smile that curves my lips is soft. His eyes leave me then and he looks to the white flocked tree, standing tall in the corner of the room. It’s decorated in red and green lights, shiny silver bulbs covering it from top to bottom, a single present wrapped beneath it. Each wall is lined in colorful bright lights, and two stockings hang from the fireplace.
“Merry Christmas, Noah,” I whisper.
His jaw flexes as he stares at the Christmas tree, and then the mantel, where a tiny, porcelain set of angel wings sits, a red ribbon tied along its base.
And then he’s kissing me again. It’s slow and tender, and the ache in my chest deepens, but this time, it’s with longing and love.
Grabbing his hand, I lead him into the kitchen, freeing us both of our Santa hats and tossing them on the floor as we curve around the corner.
Silver and gold tinsel hang from the ceiling, matching confetti glittering the floor.
I let go of his hand and step toward the corner and click on a switch, and the mini disco ball sitting on the kitchen island flicks on, spinning and sparkling across the walls.
Hopping up on the counter, I look to Noah.
His chest heaves as he glances around the room, and he reaches up, gliding his fingers along one of the streamers hanging above him.
His eyes snap to mine, a war of raging emotions behind them.
“Come here.”
He does, and I open my legs for him. Noah slides right in, his hands coming down to grip my thighs, squeezing.
I grab the plastic tiara behind me and slip it on my head, and then I place his top hot on his.
Handing him a blow horn, I hold mine in my hand.
“Hey, Google,” I speak to the Google Home system, “Press play.”
Noah’s eyes narrow, and then a ten-second countdown begins.
Noah’s lips twitch and a light laugh leaves me.
I count down the last four seconds, and he follows my lead, lifting the horn to his lips, and together, we blow.
But Noah quickly tears it away, slamming his lips to mine, and this time, it’s not soft or slow.
It’s deep and dirty, and my core clenches.
I moan into his mouth, and when he finally tears away, he bites at my lips, a raspy groan leaving him.
“Happy New Year’s.” My words are choppy, needy, and his eyes darken even more.
His eyes clench closed, and his forehead falls to mine.
Sliding from the countertop, I push up on my toes, kissing the corner of his mouth and whisper, “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”
“Baby—” He grips my hips, halting me, seeking out my lips, but I evade with a smile, chuckling when his warning glare meets mine.
“One minute, Noah.” I smile and quickly walk away, pinning him with one last look. “Stay.”
I run into the downstairs bathroom, where I hid what I need, knowing he is likely to hunt me down if I take any longer than the one minute I promised.
Tearing off my leggings and T-shirt, I quickly change, carefully pulling the strategically placed bobby pins from my hair. Up, it looked like a mess, but down, as I shake it out, it’s as if I just pulled hot curlers from it.
I dash out, grabbing the stereo system remote on my way, and when I step into the kitchen, I don’t know why, but nerves swirl through my stomach.
He senses my approach and glances back.
His entire body stiffens, and as if it’s set to slow motion, his body slowly faces me.