Page 25 of Home for the Holidays

We hang up and I putter around the house, putting away my dinner dishes, wiping down the counters, and unpacking one of my three suitcases into the guest room closet.

There. That’s a good day’s work.

I take a quick shower and crawl into Jake’s bed. He must have changed the sheets this morning because it smells fresh and clean with an undercurrent of his cologne. I inhale deeply, enveloped in his scent.

A naughty idea comes to my mind. Reaching for my phone, I check the time. He’s probably on the plane to New Orleans already.

With just the bedside light on, casting a dark shadow across the room, I whip off my pajama top and pull the sheets up to cover my chest. I fluff my hair until I get it where I want it.

And then I take a photo.

Me.

Naked.

In Jake’s bed.

And before I can second guess myself, I send it to him.

Let’s see what he has to say about that.

ten

. . .

Jake

“I’m going to die,” I announce.

Sven looks over at me curiously. “Please don’t.”

“You don’t want me to die? Buddy—” My heart leaps in my chest. He likes me. He really likes me!

“Because then Vanessa will have to do more paperwork, and she hates paperwork,” he continues, a hundred percent serious. “So please, for my sake, don’t die.”

With a sigh, I flop back onto my bed. “I’ll try not to, because you asked.”

Lifting my phone, I check out the picture again.

Rachel.

Naked.

In my bed.

My cock aches, long and stiff in my sweats, and I curse the fact that I signed up for a roommate. What I would give right now to have the room to myself.

I don’t even need all that long. I bet I could take care of things in five minutes, flat.

But I can’t very well ask Sven to leave the room. And knowing he’d be outside, waiting to be let in, does a good job at deflating the situation in my pants.

Besides, Vanessa isn’t on the road trip. Scott is the Logistics Coordinator for this trip. They alternate who travels, so they both get some rest.

I want to text Rachel, but it’s the middle of the night. She needs rest. I bite my fist and look at the photo again.

What am I getting myself into?

Am I ready for this?