Page 103 of My Favorite Holidate
As I walk back to bed, Fable’s staring at me with wide, glassy eyes.
“What is it?”
“You’re…” she begins, her words like sandpaper. “You’re only wearing boxer briefs.”
I let my lips curve into a sly grin. “But you knew that. I was lying there in bed with only boxer briefs on. I took off my shirt and shorts while you were gathering your gold.”
“I guess I didn’t really take it in when I woke up.” She licks her lips. “But I’m taking it in now.”
That look in her eyes. So much for my restraint earlier. So much for holding back.
Fuck it. Just fuck it all.
I reach the bed, standing at the edge of it, letting hertake it ina little longer. “Maybe you don’t want to steal all the covers then.”
I let my words hang there. An invitation perhaps. A suggestion. But really, an incentive for her to share.
“I don’t think I do,” she says, her smile a little lusty as she lets the covers fall to her waist.
It’s like she’s lain bare before me even in her cami. All that creamy flesh on display. My bones are tight. My skin is hot. I kneel on the edge of the mattress, ready to climb over her and devour her sweet, lush mouth.
But right as I set a hand down by her face, she presses her palm to my bare chest. Her touch makes me suck in a breath. “You said you were sorry earlier. Let me say thank you,” she says.
My brow knits. “What…what do you mean?”
She nibbles on the corner of her lips as her gaze drifts down my body. “You’ve always said you like my gifts. My homemade gifts.”
“I did. And I do,” I say, wondering what she’s getting at.
She blows me the faintest kiss. “Then let me say thank you for all you’ve done for me. A proper thank you.”
And I’m connecting the dots all right. So is my cock. Still, I have to say the next thing, “You don’t have to say thank you for those things.”
Even though I really fucking want her to.
She slides her palm down my pecs, over my abs, her heated eyes never leaving mine. “But I want to, Wilder. I want to so,somuch.”
I could say it’s the secondsothat does me in. I could say it’s the bed we’re sharing. I could even blame the romantic snow outside the windows. But I don’t. Even though, yes, it’s all of those things, but mostly it’sthis—her want.
Her words.
The plea on her lips.
I can’t deny her.
I run my thumb across her top lip. “Then show me, honey. Show me how you say thank you.”
In a flash, she sets both hands on my chest and pushes me down on the bed. She plays with the waistband of my boxer briefs. “Take it off, boss,” she says, and my entire body crackles with electricity.
“You like calling me boss,” I observe as I reach for her hand.
“I also like your orders,” she says.
Well, then. “Then,youtake them off.”
Like I’ve given her the keys to a sports car she’s been raring to drive, she tugs them down, gasping as she frees my cock.
Her lips part into the most devilish smile. “Oh, yes. I see the stockings have definitely been hung. And I’d like to say thank you for that.”