Page 151 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“If you call that holding it together, then I fear for you.” She crosses her arms. “Let’s call a spade a spade. We were both folding under his stare. Admit it.”
I scratch my jaw and then say, “But I don’t know why. He’s a nice guy, and I’m taller than him—I shouldn’t be frightened.”
“It’s the boots and shovel, simple as that.”
Betty
“Okay, this is amazing,” I say as I take a bite out of a Junior Mint ice cream cake while sharing a booth with Atlas at the Polar Freeze.
I’ve never been to the local ice cream shop because every time I’ve visited, it’s been cold, and ice cream doesn’t really screamChristmasto me, but I’ve been missing out. First of all, the entire place is set up as if you stepped foot into the Arctic tundra. The walls are coated in plaster and shaped to form caves, coves, and arches that are painted in white and covered in clear glitter. The floor is concrete with icebergs painted like stepping stones leading up to the counter. An old soda shop–type barspans across the right side of the store while iceberg-blue and white leather booths flank the other side, offering a great deal of seating. My favorite parts are the snowflakes, icicles, and lights that dangle from the ceiling, adding that last piece of whimsy to tie everything together.
“My favorite treat. They only make it during the Christmas season.”
“Really?” I ask, taking another bite while Atlas has his arm around me, keeping me close to his side. Yes, we’re that couple, sitting side by side in a booth rather than across from each other. “Why would they keep such a delicious thing as a seasonal dish?”
“I think it’s to get more people through the doors during the Christmas season. It’s so cold, ice cream really isn’t someone’s go-to treat.”
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”
“They actually do a monthly special to keep people coming in. The Junior Mint is by far the best.” He takes a bite, and I watch as his mouth wraps around the fork, his expression suggesting he’s truly enjoying the dessert.
I’ve shamefully watched him enjoy his food all night.
I’ve watched him suck, lick, chew—it’s been a cornucopia of turn-ons, and now that we’re here eating dessert, I’m starting to get the impression that he’s not the only horny one in this duo.
“Hey.”
“Huh?” I look up at him.
“You’re staring at my mouth.”
“Am I?”
“You are,” he says, smirking.
“Umm, I don’t think I was.”
“Uh-huh, so then what were you looking at?”
“The, uh, penguin behind you. Bold choice since penguins and polar bears don’t live in the same habitat.”
“We’re getting back to you staring at my mouth in a second, but... they don’t?”
“Nope, it’s a misconception,” I answer. “Penguins live in the Southern Hemisphere, and polar bears live in the Northern Hemisphere.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, you’re welcome for educating you. Anyway”—I take the last bite of the ice cream—“we best be going home now.” I attempt to get up, but he holds me down by the waist.
“No way. I told you we’d be going back to the whole staring-at-my-mouth thing.”
“Ugh, you’re insistent.” I turn toward him and sigh. “Yes, I was staring at your mouth. I’ve been staring at it all night. I’ve envisioned what you can do with that mouth, and I’ve thought about how you can use it on me. Okay? So yes, you’re not the only one who apparently has a horny mind. Happy?”
His smile grows wider. “Yes, very happy.” He tugs me in even closer, so my hand falls on his chest.
“I... I want you to know something though,” I say as he leans forward and kisses my neck right in the middle of the Polar Freeze, like two high schoolers who just shared a mud pie. “I have no intention of... of doing anything tonight. We shall go our separate ways.”
“Okay,” he says simply. “If that’s what you want.” He kisses the spot below my ear, and I lean into the touch.
