Sugar Kisses: a BBW Christmas Romance (Warming Up to Love Book 5)

by Megan Wade

  “God, no,” I bite out, shaking my head. “I fucking loved that kiss, sugar.” I lower my hands to her hips and drag her against me, grinding the insistent bulge in my pants against her stomach. “Can you feel how much I enjoyed being your first?”

  “Yes,” she gasps, looking away, embarrassed.

  “Hey,” I say, hooking a finger beneath her chin and turning her face until she’s looking at me. “Don’t you ever feel shy around me, sugar. You hear? You’re safe with me. And you never need to hide. Because I see you. And I want you. Just as you are.”

  Her mouth opens as if she’s about to say something. Then it closes, and she presses her lips together, her eyes shining like she’s fighting back tears before she nods, then smiles up at me. “I want you too, Jackson. And if it doesn’t freak you out too much, I also want you to be my first everything. It would make this Christmas I thought I’d lost to the storm the most wonderful Christmas ever.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask, studying her eyes intently.

  She nods. “I’ve never felt this kind of connection with another person before. And now that I do, I don’t want to wait to explore it.”

  “Well then, it would be my honor,” I whisper, before bringing my mouth back to hers and kissing her slowly as her hands slide over my chest then back up around my shoulders.

  Despite getting the green light from Sophia, I’ll need to make this nice and slow for her. There can be no urgency in the way I take her. This is all unknown for her, and I want her to feel safe and to trust me completely.

  “Why don’t I get us something to drink?” I suggest as I pull back slightly. I need to slow this down for my own sake as well. I’m so keyed up, I’m about to lose control and take this sweet body of hers like an animal in heat.

  “Something to drink?” she repeats, looking confused. “I thought we were…” She bites her lip as she looks up at me.

  “Sugar.” I reach out and tuck a curl behind her ear. “We will. I promise. But I also promised you we’d take it slow and I think we’re rushing right now. So, let me get you some wine, and we’ll put on some music, maybe watch a movie?”

  “A movie?” She turns a little pale, and I frown.

  “Sophia?”

  “It’s because I asked you to be my first, isn’t it?” she whispers, her voice breaking.

  “What?” I ask, taking a step toward her, but she pulls away and takes a step back, then another. A chill creeps through me. I don’t like that she isn’t letting me touch her.

  “The whole talk about saving Christmas and feeling a connection with you—it put you off, didn’t it? I mean, I know I’m not experienced, Jackson, I know that,” she says, wringing her hands. “But, I just…I never kissed anyone or been with anyone, you know…intimately, because I…God!” She looks up at the ceiling in exasperation and drags a hand through her curls. “Look, I know men like women who know what they are doing. I know I’m not experienced. You probably got that the moment you started kissing me. It’s just that I’ve waited so long for the right person to come along, for you to come along. And I know that sounds like I’m pinning all my hopes on you. And maybe I am. But it’s just…I’ve never been interested in casual dating or random hook-ups. I just wanted to meet someone and just know it felt right. And I never had that happen until…”

  I silence her by reaching out and taking her hand, tugging her into my arms. She lands against me with a thud, then looks up startled before I lean forward and press a hard kiss against her mouth. She melts. And she stops rambling nonsense.

  “I am not turned off by the fact you feel an intense connection with me, Sophia. Because I feel it too. And the knowledge that you’ve never been with another man...” I hiss my breath through my teeth. “It turns me the fuck on.”

  “But—”

  “Hush, or I’ll kiss you again if that’s what keeps you quiet.”

  She gets this adorably cheeky look in her eyes like she’s about to speak just for the kiss. But then it’s like she second guesses it and clamps her lips shut.

  “Good. Now, listen to me, Sophia. Do you have any idea how lucky I feel that you’ve waited so long? That you saved yourself for me? I’m the first to get your blushes, your kisses, and your innocence. All of that. For me. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy it makes me to know that. Because you are mine, Sophia, and I am yours. And soon—very soon—you’ll be mine in every possible way. Do you understand what I mean? This is it, sugar, you and me. I don’t want you to ever doubt that.” I finish and look down at her shocked but elated face.

  “Jackson, this is so…unreal. Do you understand how crazy we both sound? I mean, we’ve only known each other a few hours.”

  “Then we can be crazy together.” I smile at her. “You just told me you’ve been waiting for me for a long time. And I’m here. I’m not running away. So don’t try to push me either—unless it’s to push your gorgeous body up against mine again. Because I really liked that kind of pushing. You were so greedy, sugar, you nearly kissed my face off.”

  She gasps, her eyes wide with outrage. “I was not greedy.”

  I laugh. “Honey, you were. You nearly pulled my hair out trying to get a piece of me...that’s how much you couldn’t get enough of me. Which is fucking perfect because I can’t get enough of you either. I’m going to claim you, Sophia, and once I’m done, you won’t have a single doubt in your mind—or one single stitch of clothing on your body.” I grin wolfishly down at her.

  On cue, she flushes and buries her face in my neck, and mumbles something that sounds adorable just because it’s coming from her.

  “What was that?” I ask, shifting so I can urge her face up to mine, her brown eyes staring up at me.

  “I said, I’d prefer it if you took my clothes off now.” Her cheeks flame so brightly I’m surprised she hasn’t caught fire.

  My dick salutes her. “Oh, sugar. You are the sweetest, most perfect thing,” I say, clamping my urge to hump her leg right down. “But it’s Christmas. And it’s tradition to unwrap our gifts in the morning. Tonight”—I lean down and brush my nose alongside hers—“is all about the anticipation.”

  “If I anticipate you much more, I might explode,” she says, pressing her knees together as she heaves out her breath.

  I chuckle. “Then we’ll have to find a way to give my greedy girl a taste of what she wants without spoiling the whole surprise.”

  SOPHIA

  “O K.” My mind goes wild trying to think of all the things he could do that would be considered a ‘taste’. Would it be just kissing? Heavy petting? A little…cunnilingus? The mind boggles and my knees shake.

  “Now,” Jackson places a quick kiss on my nose before pulling away. “About that drink. Red or White?”

  “Do you have any cocoa?”

  He smiles. “Of course, I do. I remember you told me your dad used to have a saucepan on the stove every Christmas. That sounds perfect.”

  “Oh, thank you. It just wouldn’t be Christmas eve without it. And Jackson?” He lifts his brow as he meets my eyes. “I kinda need the little girl’s room. Can you show me the way to your bathroom?” I’ve actually been dying to go since we left the bar, but I kind of got distracted by more indulgent things...

  “Of course.” He points me toward a hallway leading away from the living room. “Second door on the left, right off the second passage. Call out for me if you get lost.”

  “Second door. Second passage. Do you live in a maze?” He chuckles then gives me a gentle pat on my ass, and I let out a startled squeak before I make my way down that corridor.

  His place is big, and I can imagine it would be possible to get lost in here if you didn’t know where you were going—which I don’t. Second door, second passage. Or is it the second door then you turn right into the second passage? His directions sound like he lives in a castle, but a penthouse can’t possibly be that confusing.

  I pause when I hit the second door on the left and place my hand on the knob, turni
ng and opening it to find a study. No bathroom here. Whoops! I hope Jackson doesn’t think I’m snooping. Once I secure that door closed again, I head farther down the hall until I see one passage, then two. Then I try the second door on the left. Bingo!

  After I’ve finished doing my business, I take a moment to take in the elegantly decorated bathroom with its marble surfaces and gold fittings. It’s opulent to the max, and makes my closet-sized bathroom look like, well…a broom closet.

  I walk toward the sink, turning on the faucet and letting the cool water run over my fingers, then over my pulse. Just being in this bathroom he’s probably been naked in makes my skin heat and my insides quake. He wants me. I’ve never had a man speak those words to me before. I splash a few drops of water against the back of my neck and try to calm down. I’m going to have sex tonight. Shutting the water off, I look up and study my reflection in the mirror.

  Is it possible to look so different? I feel different right now, yes, but as I take in my puffy lips and the expression on my face, I realize, I really do look different as well. There is something bright in my eyes and a warm glow in my cheeks. I trace my lips, remembering his hot, wet kisses. His lips against mine had been soft and hard all at once, exploring and demanding as his tongue taught mine an intimate dance. I move my fingers across my chin as I notice the soft red whisker burns on my skin and another surge of arousal sweeps through me. I clutch the edges of the sink as my knees nearly buckle.

  Every nerve in my body seems to be aflame. My heart is pounding, and my nipples strain against the cotton cups of my bra, hard and aroused. I am also wet. Down there. A constant throbbing pulse beats between my thighs, and I can tell that my clit is swollen and aching to be touched. By Jackson.

  He wants to claim me. Claim me. What does that even mean? It’s a sex thing, right? He was talking about sex? He definitely was.

  I bite my lip as I meet my eyes in the mirror.

  Claiming sounds almost…pagan. Wild, animalistic, and carnal. It sounds…like everything I’ve always wanted and more.

  I turn away and cover my face with my hands, stifling an elated giggle.

  But am I really ready for this? I hardly know Jackson, but at the same time, I feel like I know him. Deep down, something inside me recognizes him, wants him, and craves him. Jackson seems like everything I always wanted, and everything I never knew I needed.

  I grin to myself happily as I realize the wait was worth it. Finally, I feel ready. Finally, I feel like I’ve met the One.

  It’s time to go out there and claim my destiny, so to speak.

  With a quick check of my breath, I’m about ready to go out there and be as sultry as I’m capable of. But before I can leave the bathroom, another thought hits me. Am I wearing decent panties? I lift the edge of my pants and groan. I’m wearing big ole stretch cotton panties, the ones I usually wear on laundry days because they’re really high-waisted and completely unflattering. All my good ones are packed and sitting inside the suitcase I had planned on taking home with me.

  I look at the simple robin’s egg blue cotton. They’re comfortable but about as sexy as a leg of turkey. I can’t let him see this.

  What if it turns him off?

  Oh, God, what if I turn him off? What if, once he sees me, all of me—and there was a lot of me—naked and he doesn’t like what he sees? Oh no!

  I’ve always been on the bigger side. Back in school, I was teased for having big breasts when all the other girls had been slim and proportionate. Growing up, shopping for clothes with girlfriends had been mortifying, having to ask for a bra size only to hear one of them whisper loudly, “Do they even come in that size?”

  That’s one of the reasons why I decided to design clothes for plus-sized women. I haven’t felt self-conscious about my body in a while, but then, I also never had to be naked in front of a handsome man like Jackson before. Or any man, for that matter.

  “You can do this, Sophia Clarke,” I tell myself, squaring my shoulders. “Stash those panties and go out there, chin up.”

  I quickly pull my jeans off and slide my underwear to the floor and bunch it in my hand. Then I tug my jeans back on, button them up, and wonder where in the world my knickers should hide.

  This bathroom is far too tidy to leave them here, so I stuff them into my pocket, figuring I can stash them in my bag later. But there’s a visible bulge. No way is Jackson not going to see that. I take them out and look around. Maybe I can stow them in one of the cabinets? Under the sink, perhaps?

  Yes, I decide, moving hurriedly to open the medicine cabinet to find a decent hiding spot. In my haste, I misjudge my movement, slamming my hip hard against the vanity just as I open the door. Instinctively, I let out a sharp cry of pain and hunch forward. Which is when the crash happens.... I look up just in time to see the detachable medicine cabinet…detach.

  Oh, no. Oh no, oh no. God dammit!

  A clamor of pill bottles, mirror fragments, and shaving equipment falls at my feet as I cover my mouth and silently beg Santa for a time machine.

  Almost immediately, I hear footsteps rushing my way, followed by Jackson’s voice. “Sophia? What the hell was that?”

  How in the world am I supposed to explain this?

  JACKSON

  T he loud crash followed by the shattering of glass sends my heart pounding.

  Sophia.

  I barely pause long enough to turn off the stove before I run toward the bathroom, calling out to her.

  Please be OK.

  “Sophia?” I tap the knuckle of my bent finger against the door. “Are you hurt?”

  I can only hear a shuffling sound from inside, and my fear escalates. Is she broken? Bleeding? Unconscious? Why isn’t she answering? Fuck.

  “Sophia, I’m coming in.” Without waiting another second, I turn the handle and push. Then I blink when I’m confronted with broken glass and cabinetry on the floor, interspersed with the contents of my medicine cabinet. “What happened here?” Looking up, I spot Sophia, her eyes wide and worried as she clutches her hands against her chest. I quickly scan her from head to toe, and she appears to be unharmed. “Are you OK?”

  She bites her lip and looks down at the mess at our feet. “I, uh…well…”

  “Were you looking for something?” I ask, lean a casual shoulder against the doorway and cock an eyebrow at her.

  “Looking for something?” she repeats, appearing confused.

  “Were you snooping through my cupboards?” I keep my voice mild because honestly, she can go through my cupboards all day long if she likes. I don’t have anything to hide.

  “What? No!” Her eyes shoot up to mine, and her mouth drops open before her face crumples. I curse myself.

  God dammit, Jackson. Now you’ve gone and upset her.

  “It was an accident.” Her eyes shine, and her lips wobble as she looks miserably at the mess on the floor. “Jackson, I swear. I wasn’t snooping. I smashed my hip against the vanity and grabbed that to steady myself and…I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the damages, I promise. But please, Jackson, you have to believe me.” She draws in a hiccuping breath. “I’d never snoop through anybody’s belongings, especially not yours.”

  “Fuck, Sophia, I was just teasing you, sugar. You can go through the whole place for all I care. I honestly don’t care whether you looked in the cabinet or not. I’m more concerned about this hip. Why don’t you show me where it hit? Do you need some ice or something?”

  “It’s just a bruise.” She sniffs and lifts her sweater a little, hooking her thumb in the waistband of her jeans. Just the peak of creamy white skin has my mind going to dirty places, but I force myself to focus on the matter at hand.

  Stepping around the mess on the floor, I squat down in front of her and inspect her exposed hip. It’s already showing signs of bruising. “Looks like you gave it a good clobbering,” I say, gently touching the tender skin. She shudders and her breathing deepens.

  “I wasn’t paying attention and turned too quickly
.”

  “Hmm. I’ll get you an ice pack for this. It’ll help with the pain,” I say, glancing up to meet her eyes. It’s then that I notice she’s holding something bunched up in her palm. “What’s that in your hand?”

  She lets out a little groan and steps away from me, muttering, fuck, under her breath, the word sounding hilarious coming from her sweet mouth. I get to my feet. “It’s, ah…” Her eyes dart from side to side as she quickly shoves whatever she holds into her pocket. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” As the fabric disappears from sight, I grin, realizing what she’s hiding. “Why, Sophia,” I begin, closing the distance between us and pulling her forward till her hips are flush against mine. She gasps and clutches my shoulders to steady herself, her doe eyes looking up at me. “Are those your panties in your pocket?” My voice comes out husky and intimate, yet amused, as I lower my head and trace my tongue across the seam of her lips.

  She moans before she seems to shake it off and swallow hard. “No,” she whispers.

  I grin before I brush my bearded face across her cheek and her eyes flutter closed as she tilts her head back, giving me access to her neck. I trail wet kisses along her jaw before I move to nip at her ear. “Liar,” I drawl as I reach between us, slipping my fingers into her pocket and tugging out the panties before I step back and spin them around my finger triumphantly.

  Sophia blushes a bright red.

  “Were you planning on giving me these as my Christmas present?” Not breaking eye contact, I bring them up to my nose and inhale the sweet smell of her essence. “I know it’s not Christmas morning yet, but I’m keeping these.” I slide them into my pocket as she looks at me with a wide-eyed gasp.

  “Ah…OK. You…you can keep them.”

  “Thank you. You smell as sweet as you look, sugar,” I tell her, pulling her in closer. “But I bet you’ll taste even sweeter.”

  “The things you say to me, Jackson.” She buries her head in my neck and I laugh, placing a kiss on top of her head.

  “The things I’m going to do to you, my innocent Sophia.”