Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“I can’t, it’s too much, it’s too–” but before she could even finish saying why she couldn’t, she did. I felt it build in her, then rip out of her in a near scream. It ran through her like electric currents, keeping her up, and then left her draped over my chest like a ragdoll. I rearranged my grip on her hips and kept going, feeling my own orgasm not far behind.
“Selena,” I groaned as it hit me, “Fuck, it’s never been so good.” I poured myself into her, word vomit spewing out with the cum. Her name, curses, oaths. I didn’t know what I was saying. In the aftermath, as she lay curled over me, my cock still buried in her, I tried to remember.
Had I said anything I shouldn’t? Had I said too much?
A chill spread through me despite the heat of her body baking into mine.
Had I said I loved her?
Because I was starting to worry that I did.
“You’re making me see Christmas World differently,” I told her later. She was sitting at the vanity in just her lacy bra and matching underwear, getting ready for a late dinner. The hot chocolates had finally worked their way out of her bloodstream, and we were both starving. “Maybe this actually is the merriest place on earth.”
She laughed, sounding like her normal self again. I was relieved. “It must be, because I’ve never been happier.” Then she stilled, like she’d said too much.
“Same here,” I said, smoothing my hand over her bare shoulder and dropping a kiss on the top of her head as I walked by. It was true. Christmas World may have been last on my list of places to take her on a romantic getaway, but I could admit when I was wrong. I hadn’t felt this relaxed in…I couldn’t remember. Getting away from LA, getting time with Selena…it was even better than I thought it would be. If I discounted the random moments when she suddenly looked lost in thought–sad ones at that–it was perfect.
And I did discount them. I knew I shouldn’t. They were shadow figures that were going to fuck up the entire calculus of us, but I couldn’t bring myself to drag them to light. Not this weekend anyway. I told myself I’d dig into it later. For now, I was going to enjoy every minute I got with her that I didn’t have to worry about fucking Albert walking in on us or Mrs. Kloss calling with a jingle bell emergency.
Selena seemed to have the same idea. Whatever had happened earlier didn’t happen again. The next day, she threw herself back into Christmas World with a zeal that both disgusted and amused me. I didn’t know it was possible for a human being to consume so much sugar and still function, but she managed.
“You’re not going to sleep tonight,” I warned when she insisted on buying a smores kit for the campfire on our last night.
“I wasn’t planning to anyway,” she tossed back, handing me the wooden skewers and opening the bag of jumbo marshmallows. “How do you like yours?”
“Nonexistent.” But for some reason, I let her hand me the sticky, gooey mess of graham cracker, melted chocolate, and cracked, oozing marshmallow, hot off the skewer. Then, to keep from getting goo on my hand, I ate it.
“It’s good isn’t it?” Selena demanded. She was standing over the bonfire, toasting another marshmallow, but she was angled toward me, a hand on her hip, daring me to deny it. I started to say something sarcastic, but my words died in my throat at the sight of her. She’d never looked more beautiful than she did now in a ridiculous Santa hat, backlit by the bonfire, chin thrust up, ready to defend the s’mores honor.
“It’s good,” I said quietly, staring at her. I didn’t mean the dessert though. I meant whatever the hell this feeling was. Absolute contentment, almost painful happiness. It made my heart feel stretched, like I was the Grinch and she’d just taught me the true meaning of Christmas. A series of thoughts ran through my head all at once, jumbling together, talking over each other.
It felt good.
It felt terrifying.
I loved her.
I couldn’t love her.
This had to end.
It couldn’t end.
The rest of the trip felt like a cross between the best dream I’d ever had and the worst nightmare. I kept wondering how the fuck I’d gotten myself into this mess. The thing was, I’d known better. I’d known every step of the way what I was doing from the moment I forced her to go to the company happy hour. I’d known even then that if I had the chance, if she gave me an opening, I’d take it. There had been half a dozen warning signs along the way. Danger and Turn Back Now, but I kept going. It felt too good to stop, and now I was fucking in love with her.