Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Damn.
She might be tiny, but her ass was plump and gorgeous and . . . darn it.
He jumped to his feet.
“Hey! Where are you going?” she called out.
“Bathroom break!”
“Oh, no. Too much dairy? Is your tummy okay?”
Dear Lord, save him. He wasn’t sure what was worse. Having her know about the hard-on he was sporting? Or thinking he had the runs?
Groaning in embarrassment, he shut the door behind him. Then he moved to the counter and ran the cold water, splashing it over his hot face. He glanced down at his dick.
“You could behave yourself,” he said to his dick
True to form, it didn’t bother to reply.
A knock on the door had him jumping.
“Brody-bear? Do you need an antacid or something?”
“No, no, I’m fine. Just had to pee. Too much to drink.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am. Be out in a second.” He leaned over and flushed the toilet to give himself some credibility.
Sure, he felt lousy about continuing to lie to her. But this was only a little white lie.
When he was feeling calm enough, he walked back into the living room. She’d managed to put up most of the decorations. Turning, she beamed at him. There was glitter over her face and hands and some tinsel hanging out of her hair.
He’d never seen her look happier.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”
“Gorgeous.”
“Do you think so? I thought I might have overdone the tinsel.”
Tinsel? Oh, the tree. Well, the tree was kind of a mess. It looked like it had been decorated by a toddler having a tinsel-induced temper tantrum.
“I wasn’t talking about the tree.”
She blushed and he reached into the box of decorations to pick up the thing he’d been eyeing earlier.
“Look, mistletoe.”
Her eyes widened, dancing. “So it is. Whatever shall we do with it?”
He crooked a finger and she moved toward him, stumbling at the last moment and sending them crashing into the sofa.
“Oh my God! I didn’t hurt Prancer and Dancer, did I?”
What the heck did two of Santa’s reindeer have to do with them falling?
Unless . . .
He groaned. “You are not calling my balls Prancer and Dancer.”
“Why not?” she asked with fake innocence. “It’s Christmas-themed. Although I guess Twig and Berries is suitable too, since you’re holding mistletoe.”
He shot her a look, which, unfortunately, had very little effect on her. She grinned back at him.
“Just . . . shut up and kiss me.”
“Why, sir, I thought you’d never ask.” She climbed onto his lap, her legs on either side of his hips. Thankfully, without kneeing his balls again. Then leaning in, she kissed him. This wasn’t a simple peck on the lips, either. No, she slid her tongue between his lips and kissed him until the twig started pressing painfully against his pants.
And no, he was not going to start calling it the twig.
Knowing that he had to move before she felt how hard he’d gotten, he lifted her off him and jumped to his feet.
“Where are you going?” she called out.
“Another bathroom break!”
As he was coming out of the bathroom, after having to calm down for the second time that night, he realized something . . .
He’d left all her gifts at his place.
With a groan, he walked into the living room and sat down. What were the odds of getting a taxi there and back at this time of night on Christmas Eve?
Not good.
“What’s the matter? Is it your tummy?” she asked with sympathy. “Are you sure you don’t need an antacid?”
“No! No, it’s fine. I’m not groaning because of my stomach. I forgot your gifts.”
“Oh, is that all? It’s fine.”
It didn’t feel fine, though. There were a few gifts under the tree that she must have put there. And he had a feeling they were for him.
“I’m going to try and get a taxi back to my place.”
“What? No! You’ll never get there and back. Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t need the gifts. Having you here is the best present of all. I don’t need anything else.”
“Really?”
“Really. I mean, if you want, I’ll drive you. But don’t do it because of me.”
He could get her to drive him. But it was dark out and it might start snowing again. And let’s face it, she was a pretty terrible driver.
“I’m an excellent snow driver. I mean, I haven’t driven in the snow in a while, but the last time I did it, I was like a pro, gliding around the corners. So, I could totally get us there and back in record time.”
“No!” he said so sharply that she stared at him in shock. “That’s all right, as long as you don’t mind waiting.”
“I don’t. Because all I want for Christmas is you.”
16
“Wake up, Brody-bear! It’s Christmas!” She shook him hard.
With a groan, he rolled toward her and opened his eyes to stare up into her blurry face.