Page 124 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“After what happened this morning? I didn’t think that was an option.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have been there so much sooner. And not to be a dick or anything, but where the fuck isDwight, and why isn’t he checking in on you? Is he really that mad?”
“He’s out of town for a conference,” she answers. “I don’t think he even knows that the power went out.”
“Well, he knows there was a storm. Hell, why didn’t he provide you with any backup batteries or heat sources?” I grind down on my teeth. “He should have taken care of you.”
She rubs my chest. “Hey, maybe we don’t talk about the what-ifs and just focus on the fact that I’m grateful you came and got me and I’m grateful that I’m here, with you, in front of this fire... fully satisfied.”
That brings a smile to my lips. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘fully satisfied.’ If I had condoms, this would have been a different night.”
Her thumb rubs against my skin. “You know, I’m on birth control and I haven’t had sex since the last time I got tested. You wouldn’t have to use them if you didn’t want to.”
That makes my breath catch in my chest, because I’ve never gone without a condom... ever.
I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth from the mere thought of it. “Probably, uh... probably not the best thing to say to me.”
She chuckles. “Why not?”
“Because I’ve never... I’ve never gone without a condom, and after the way you just humped the fuck out of my dick, I’ll probably paw at you way too much.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
I tug on her shirt, pulling it up so my palm meets her skin, and that’s when I feel that she’s not even wearing her thong.
God, she’s going to kill me.
“Better watch what you wish for.” I kiss the top of her head. “But I’ll be good. I don’t want you too cold. Your body is worndown. I probably shouldn’t have even started... touching you, but Christ, I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. I really liked how you played with me, how you took charge.”
“Yeah?” I ask, surprised that she’s talking about it. Also something I’ve never had, communication after sex. Every woman I’ve been with has been on the shier side. Which is fine, no judgment, but Betty is different. In an extremely positive way, that’s for sure.
“Yeah.” She kisses my chest again.
“Good to know. Let me check on your socks.” I lift up and pat them. They’re warmed but not too hot, so I lift the blankets and put her socks on for her. When I glance up and find her smiling at me cutely, I know I’ve hit the goddamn jackpot.
“Thank you,” she says as I lie back down. “Now stop getting up. You’re letting the heat out, and you keep disturbing my comfort.”
I laugh. “Sorry, babe.”
“Babe, huh?”
I shrug. “Do you preferdarling?Sweetie?Tantalizing tits?”
“Tantalizing tits?” She laughs out loud. “Never been called that before.”
“Well, you should have, because your tits are easily the sexiest I’ve ever seen.”
“Stop,” she says, nudging at me. “That’s not true.”
“Betty.” I sit up, disrupting her comfort again. I bring my fingers to the buttons of her shirt, undo the top few, and open the shirt, revealing her chest, and I love that she lets me. “They fit perfectly in my palm.” I grip one and run my thumb over her nipple, hardening it. “Responsive, slightly firm, and your nipples, so goddamn hard, like little pebbles. Jesus, they’re so fucking hot.”
“So you coming on them”—she swallows—“was that you claiming them?”
My temperature spikes from that one word:coming.
“Yeah,” I answer, my mouth going dry. “You okay with that?” I run my finger over her nipple again.
