Bad For You

Chapter Twenty-Five

Two months later

BLYTHE

I had almost finished writing my first complete novel. It was a romance. And an epic one at that. I was thrilled with how it had come together, and even if no one else ever read it, I had it to reread and remember. Because it was our story. It was a story of healing, redemption, passion, forgiveness, and love.

I wanted to have it edited and at least bound before Christmas. The one person I did want to read it was Krit. I would have never guessed that the beautiful man who had stood watching me twirl around my apartment with an amused grin would be the one to make me whole. Our story was beautiful, and having it all written down in words meant it was a story that would never be forgotten. When we are long gone, our great-grandchildren would have this story to read and know that they came from love.

Krit opened the door and stepped inside. I closed my MacBook so he couldn’t peek at the words.

“Put it there.” I pointed at the spot I’d cleared out in our living room.

Krit picked up the Virginia pine tree we had picked out together at the Christmas tree farm, carried it over to the corner, and stood it up.

It was going to be my first real Christmas. I had never been given a Christmas present or I’d never decorated a tree. Those were things I’d watched happen in the house I’d grown up in, but I’d never been invited to participate.

“How’s that?” Krit asked, standing back to survey his work.

“Perfect,” I told him, throwing my arms around his neck. “Now we get to decorate.” The excitement was almost too much. I had always wanted to decorate a tree.

“Love, I’ll do whatever the hell you want me to as long as it makes you smile like that,” he said, turning around and kissing me firmly on the mouth.

“Good. Because we’re decorating cookies tonight, and that will make me smile,” I told him.

He smirked. “Icing and you and a kitchen counter. Yeah, sounds like my kind of fun.”

“The icing goes on the cookies,” I told him.

He nodded. “Sure it does. And then it goes on your nipples, and if you’re really good, between your thighs.”

The catch in my breath made him grin. “That’s what I thought. My girl likes to play.”

“Okay, we’ll play, but only if I get to put some icing on my favorite piercing.” I said.

His eyes lit up, and he tugged my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing? We have a tree to decorate,” I said, giggling as I followed him.

“No, love. We are going to get that icing and let you put it on your favorite piercing. Play first, decorate the tree later.”

“Krit,” I said, and he stopped and looked back at me.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I love you.”

He towered over me, and his blue eyes smoldered as he gazed down at me. “I love you more,” he whispered against my lips, then he made me forget about decorations and cookies. I was lost in the one man who had been made just for me.