Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Was I satiated a minute ago?
Because at the moment, my clit is throbbing again and I very much need this man inside me now.
“You are so hot when you talk about being old,” I gasp.
He laughs at that, ducking his face into my shoulder, and as I realize he’s supporting himself on both of his shoulders and very much shouldn’t be, he pushes the tip of his erection inside me.
“Oh god,” I gasp, shamelessly arching into him to take more.
He freezes. “Condom.”
“I’m on birth control, and it’s been a year.”
“Fuck, Meg.”
“You?” I whisper.
“Clear bill of health right before surgery, and I haven’t—just fuck, Meg.”
I wrap my legs tight around his hips and pull him deeper inside me.
We both groan as he fills and stretches me.
“Your shoulder—”
He silences me with a kiss as he pulls almost all the way out, then does a slow thrust back inside me, twisting his hips to hit my clit just right too, and oh, sweet snowmen.
Yes.
Yes, this is everything I want and more than I ever thought it would be.
Trevor, naked, making love to me under the glow of Halloween lights on a rescue tree, the air scented with cinnamon rolls, inappropriate Christmas music the background to our gasps and moans—how long have I wanted this?
And how much better is it than I ever dreamed?
“You shouldn’t be so fucking perfect.” His voice is strained as he hits that sensitive spot inside me with his erection.
“I am not—”
I cut myself off with a squeak as he dips his head and lightly bites my nipple, causing a roar of lust from my chest to my pussy like someone ignited gasoline inside me. “Margaret O’Connell, you are fucking perfect.”
He slams into me with each word, and before he’s finished perfect, I can’t hold back the spiral of utter need inside me anymore. My body explodes in a mass of holiday sprinkles and I feel like I’m floating on a cloud of whipped cream over a pumpkin pie.
“Jesus, Meg,” he gasps, and then he’s groaning as he comes inside me, holding his body over mine with his head flung back, the tendons in his neck straining, his eyes hooded and unfocused.
And the feel of his cock pulsing against my sensitive walls only makes my own orgasm deeper and better.
I did this.
I drove him wild.
I drove Trevor Stafford wild.
He wants me.
Tears prickle my eyes as the last spasms of my orgasm roll through me.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this wanted. The last time someone was willing to put anything on the line for me.
My family does.
But a man?
Someone who owes me nothing and has so much to lose if—when—his best friend finds out?
I don’t think Jude will be a dick.
And I hope this isn’t a one-time thing.
Trevor collapses on top of me, and the grunt he makes isn’t normal.
“Oh my god, your shoulder,” I gasp.
“Shh.” He presses a kiss to my neck, then freezes. “Meg? Are you—are you crying?”
“No.”
He shifts so he’s putting his weight on his good arm and peers down at me. “Meg—”
“You like me,” I whisper.
His gaze is utter seriousness as he studies me. “I do.”
“Not very many people like me enough to risk—well—”
I don’t finish.
I can’t.
Because he’s pressing soft kisses to my lips and swiping away my tears with his thumb. “You’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”
He’s not wrong.
My last jobs were terrible fits.
I’ve been happier here working for the Bergers, even with the awkward tension between Trevor and me until this morning, than I ever was in preschool settings.
I can breathe here.
And more—I feel loved here.
So loved.
And it’s not just my job.
It’s Trevor giving me a place to live so I could start right away. It’s him being honest with me about how much he hates the holidays, and why, and yet still going along with celebrating them anyway.
It’s him being willing to risk a solid friendship with my brother to tell me how much he likes me, and to hold me and kiss me and love me.
I’m not ready for those words.
I don’t think he is either.
But I wouldn’t be lying here with him still buried deep inside me while he kisses my tears and my fears away if I didn’t think that’s where this is going.
I tilt my head to his and run my fingers through his hair. “I haven’t showered yet this morning, and I think we might both have holiday glitter all over,” I whisper.
He studies me for a long moment again before a soft smile makes his eyes crinkle in the corners. “Pretty sure I can help you with that.”
“Before or after cinnamon rolls?”
“Both.”
TREVOR
It’s been three days since I couldn’t deny my attraction to Meg any longer, and these three days have been the best days of my life.
It’s almost like it’s not even Christmastime.
Or possibly like it’s finally the Christmastime I’ve always wanted.