Page 141 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“I thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Storee
They pat themselves down and they gather their clothes.
They turn off the lights, and up the stairs they rose.
For orgasms were upon them. With a grunt and a groan,
they’d fuck and they’d screw and they’d moan, moan, moan.
“Thank you for the toothbrush,”I say as I sit cross-legged on his bathroom counter, brushing my teeth. I’m in his flannel shirt that he let me use to cover myself as we cleaned up the living room. He stayed in his briefs, and it took everything in me to stop leering at him.
But now that we’re in the bathroom and his hand is on my thigh, I’m okay with taking in an eyeful with zero shame…because he’s been doing the same.
When we were bringing our cups and the cookies into the kitchen, he casually slipped his arm around my waist, his hand slipping into my barely buttoned-up shirt where he proceeded to kiss my neck and lightly caress my breast.
And when we were folding the blanket in the living room that we “copulated” on, I kept catching his eyes wandering over my body.
And when we walked up the stairs together, he trailed behind me, and I know he was checking out my ass because when we reached the top, he whispered in my ear how sexy I was.
So yeah, I’m going to get my fair share of staring in.
From his broad shoulders to his thick pecs to his trim body, which seems to have sinew popping out in every curve and contour. The V in his hips, the trimmed chest hair, the…bulge.
God, if only I’d been brave when I was younger, if only I’d come back earlier. If only I had reached out and acted upon those lustful feelings I had whenever he was around, maybe I wouldn’t have been with so many duds.
And I know they’re duds now. One hundred percent, no doubt in my mind they were duds, because what I just experienced was so different from anything I’ve ever done with a man.
And the best part of it all? It was just a good dry hump.
That dry hump was better than any other sexual experience I’ve had.
Sure, the fire was nice, and the lights were dimmed, and it was romantic, but that all played a small part. The big part…that’s tucked just beyond Cole’s black briefs.
We both spit our toothpaste into the sink, rinse our mouths, and then he helps me off the counter. Holding my hand, he brings me to a doorway that leads to another flight of stairs. When he turns to me, a look of insecurity pulls at his features.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“It’s just…this is my bedroom from when I was a teenager and, well, I haven’t changed anything.”
I smile. “Ooo, so I finally get to see your bedroom in the same state it was when I started wondering what it was like?”
“You wondered what my bedroom was like?”
“Uh, yeah, Cole. All the time.”
“Well, not one thing has changed, and now that I’m much older,it feels kind of stupid bringing you up here. I just want you to be prepared.”
“Cole,” I say seriously as I cup his cheek, “you never need to worry about me judging you, okay? People move at their own pace when faced with grief, and if keeping everything in your house the way it was before your parents passed was what you needed to do, well, that’s your way of dealing with your pain. There is nothing to judge. I promise.”
He lets out a heavy sigh and then tilts my chin up. “You’re amazing, Storee. You know that?”
“I do.” I grin at him right before he places a kiss on my lips.
“Thank you for being so understanding and supportive.”
