“Ooof!” I grunted as all my breath left me. I was struggling to stand when I saw a blur run past me and dump a bottle of water on the dining room table. As I lay on the floor in my white polo, legs twisted and naked bum showing, I parted my hair so I could see.
There stood Sweet Nuts, dumping the rest of his bottle of water on the now smoking dishtowel and appraising the situation. He turned to look down at me, dropping his duffel on the floor.
He cocked his head and smiled curiously. “What the hell are you doing on the floor when your house is on fire, Crazy?”
“Oh, shut it, Hamilton,” I sighed, banging my head against the tile floor. Ouch.
“You know I can see your business, right?” he asked, bending down to offer me a hand.
“I’m aware of that. Maybe this is the homecoming I had planned,” I said, mortified.
He swiftly pulled me to my feet and slapped me on the bum.
“That’s how to keep your lady: barefoot and half-naked in the kitchen.” He laughed.
“Ass,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. He smelled like airport and gorgeous.
We hugged for a moment, swaying gently in the kitchen while the scent of wet, burnt cotton bloomed around us.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered into his chest.
“Me too. Otherwise it would have gotten a little crispy in the kitchen.” He kissed the top of my head.
I looked up at him, rolling my eyes. “Hey, I need a real kiss, please,” I pouted, sticking out my lower lip.
“Oh, I haven’t begun to get to the real kissing yet,” he said softly, bringing my face closer to his and brushing his lips against mine. I sighed into his mouth and his hands tightened on my waist. As things became more intense, I heard a knock at the door.
“Dammit, if that’s a carload of Joshua-seeking women, I’m not here.” He groaned, then lifted his eyebrow as I flashed him my naked buns on the way to the door. “Don’t you think you should put some clothes on before you open the door?” he asked.
“Hmm, you could be right. If it’s the Christmas tree man, tell him I’ll be right there. If it’s a carload of women, you’re on your own, dear.” I laughed and skipped off to the bedroom to find some shorts.
Turns out it was the Christmas tree man. As I supervised the placement of the tree, I encouraged Jack to go take his shower and get comfortable. I was going to do all I could do to get him in the holiday spirit. Including a little stocking stuffer…
Once the tree was in the corner, beautiful and smelling piney, I tipped the guy and closed the door. With a smile on my face, I headed to the bedroom. I’d heard the shower turn off moments before, so I was hoping to catch him before he had a chance to cover up that fantastic body. I crept into the bedroom, and there he was. Sprawled out on the bed in his boxers. Hair standing on end, legs akimbo.
Sound asleep.
I smiled as I watched him, his chest rising and falling with his breathing. He looked so sweet, so vulnerable. I sank down on the bed next to him, and he rolled over toward me in his slumber. His arms reached out and he mumbled, “Tits, please…”
I sighed and slipped into his arms. Snuggled in, with his ever-present hands on my ever-constant boobies, I let my Brit sleep. I loved him, you see…
***
I must have fallen asleep as well because when I opened my eyes, it was full dark. I forgot where I was for a second, and my body tensed as I became aware of someone in the bed with me. As I struggled to sit up I heard, “Shhh, sweet girl. It’s me.”
I felt his warm breath in my ear, and I remembered where I was—and who was with me. I sank back into his arms, his lips still near my ear.
“Mmm,” I moaned, then sighed as I stretched out against him. My legs tangled with his, and I clutched his hands against my breasts. His mouth kissed my neck and slowly worked down toward my shoulder. He nudged my shirt down a little so he could kiss my shoulder, and I felt my toes curl.
“That feels nice.” I sighed again with contentment, my tummy flipping at his touch.
“That’s good to know,” he whispered in my ear, his tongue darting out to lick my neck.
“Jesus, that feels nice too.” I chuckled and arched my back, pressing my breasts into his hands in a very pronounced way. His fingers swept across me, unbuttoning my shirt slowly. He moaned in my ever-loving ear as his hands, warm and soothing, touched my bare skin. As I arched again, I pressed my bottom into him, and he hissed as I made contact with a very specific part of him.
“Now that? That feels nice,” he said, pressing into me further, his boxers barely concealing his—ahem—intent.
His hands found my now-naked breasts again, and he slowly began to tease me, ghosting his fingers across my heated skin, dragging up and down the sides, sneaking underneath, finally capturing my nipples in his hands as he groaned in my ear again.
Sweet Jesus, the man was talented.
I snuck my arm behind me, clutching his hip and pulling him closer. His right hand left my breast and his fingers walked down my side to my hip, Yellow Pages style. I giggled as they slipped beneath the waistband of my shorts and grabbed my curves. He pulled me back against him suddenly, and we both moaned at the contact.
“Gracie…” he said, in that accent, in my ear, and I felt every molecule in my body reach out and call to him.
He quickly removed my shorts and pressed his hand between my legs. I cried out at the feel of his fingers as they moved into me. I struggled to drag his boxers down as well, needing to feel him flush against me, with nothing in between. His hands left me for mere seconds, and when he returned, I could feel his warm skin press against mine in the most heavenly way. We both made quick work of my shirt, tossing it to the floor. He remained behind me, and as he worked me with his fingers I rocked my hips against him.
“Inside, please. I need you inside,” I cried.
And he obliged. He pressed into me, sliding in and invading me completely. He anchored my hips with his hands, and as I pushed back against him, he stopped his motions, then pushed in again, making us both crazy.
“God, I missed this,” he said softly, and I nodded in response.
I couldn’t speak. The feeling of him back inside my body was overwhelming, and I was stunned silent.
We kept a slow pace, our hips moving together, our hands entwined as he kissed my neck, my shoulders, my back, my cheek. I turned my head so I could take his sweet tongue in my mouth, gazing into his eyes as he worshiped my body with his own. Making me his once more. We moved and slipped and slid and rocked, and what was mine was his.
His hands clutched my breasts once more, circling fingers and pinching and teasing and tantalizing me with his love.
My hands were lost in his hair. I kept my body flush against his as I lost myself in the waves of pure, intense pleasure that worked their way from the tips of my toes to the center of my being.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” I whispered, and I began to shiver and shake in his arms, in his embrace, with him inside me. He drove into me, chanting my name in my ear as he felt me coming around him with quiet submission. I was silent as my own tiny universe cracked open and left me floating. I was aware only of his love, his touch, and the feeling of him as he stayed in my body, in my mind, in my heart.
He collapsed against me, cradling me to him as tightly as our bodies would allow. He told me he loved me again and again, and I smiled into my pillow as I felt him kiss me. Bliss.
Moments later, he rolled away and sat up. He stretched and messed his hair with his fingers. As he scratched his head I could see how long his curls had gotten. He gazed around the room, then glanced down at me.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” I answered, smiling up at him.
“Did I totally ruin dinner?” he asked sheepishly, looking at the clock on his side of the bed. His side.