“Yeah, and it warms. What goes best with Waffles? Butter.” Shethrows her head back and laughs.
“It’s hilarious, and it seems like he already loves it. Come on, let’s go make some waffles.” Standing, she walks toward the kitchen, and I smirk. I’ll be getting a taste of her before I bite into a waffle this morning. Her plump ass sways under the robe, and I consider for a moment stealing her away to ravage her, but first I need to get these sleep shorts off so she can see my boxer briefs.
“Are you coming or am I—” She doesn’t finish her sentence when she sees me. Her eyes track down my body, heat staining her cheeks as her eyes go lower. Her tongue peeks out, tipping up to her top lip as she holds back her grin. “Mistletoe?”
She notices the mistletoe printed across my dick and says, “I guess we had the same idea.” When she completely removes her robe, I can see she’s wrapped in bright red lingerie. It’s tied in a bow across her breasts, holding them together while hiding her rosy brown nipples. Her breasts spill out of the top and bottom, and my mouth waters as I take in the matching panties with ribbons tied at her hips.
“Fuck,Dove,”I groan as I approach her, slipping my fingers into the garter wrapped around her thick thigh. I grab a handful where her thighs and ass meet, pressing her into the counter. Sweeping my tongue over her collarbone, I trail my other hand up her body until I wrap my fingers around her neck and coax her lips open. “You taste so fucking good.” I loop my arm under her thigh and lift her, placing her on the counter as I rest one of her thighs over my shoulder and spread the other. “I need to taste you, Dove. All I crave is you.”
Sliding her already soaked satin panties to the side, I lick into her heat and moan at how her flavor tastes on my tongue. “Already so wet for me.” I sink my fingers into her fleshy hip to get deeper, fucking her pussy withmy tongue as I circle the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Oh shit,” she moans and arches her back, pressing her soft lower belly into me, and it makes my already-hard dick ache. “Please, Clint, I want to come with you inside me.”
“Give me one, baby. Let me drink you in first.” Pressing my thumb to her clit, I open her wider with my fingers and suck on her lips before flicking my tongue over her oversensitive center. “Grind your pussy on my tongue, baby. Come for me.”
When she begins to circle her hips, I suck on her clit as I slide two fingers into her. Her walls close around my fingers, pulsing as she works her way up to the release her body needs. Paloma screams out her climax, and the moment she does, I stand and groan as I thrust into her soaking pussy. Her gasp is music to my ears as I pump into her. Leaning back, I stroke into her tightness as I unwrap the bow keeping her breasts from me. “You are the only thing I ever want to unwrap. Every Christmas morning, this”—thrust—“is how I plan to spend our morning.” I piston into her, losing my rhythm as my own release gets closer.
I fondle one of her breasts before I pinch her nipple and almost pull out fully before I slowly fill her again and again and again until her moans are the only thing I can hear. Her Christmas present on her wrist dangles and shakes back and forth as I pound into her, glittering from the reflection of light. “So perfect, so fucking perfect.”
“I’m so close. Fuck. Please.” Paloma’s words rush out as if she isn’t sure what she’s saying, and it’s exactly how I want her. Drunk on me, just like I am for her. Lost in everything she is. My girl’s mouth falls open in an O, even as her body becomes more pliant. She watches our joining, and I can’t take my eyes off her. Not when she writhes beneath me, finding her release, as I thrust into her one final time, shouting her name as I do.
With her legs still wrapped around me, I pull her into my arms and kiss her temple. “I love you, Paloma.”
“I love you, Clinton.” She cups my face and gazes at me through her lashes. She’s gorgeous. Her cheeks tinted pink and lips swollen, her curls askew. There is nowhere I would rather be than right here with her, for the rest of my life.
38
*Chuck and Lou drank too much spiked eggnog. Consider this your intermission*
“How much money does he make again?” Janelle asks. I know she still isn’t herself since her uncle’s death, but she’s trying, and it's all that really matters.
“I’m just a girl wishing for her own billionaire romance.” I flutter my lashes and watch as she rolls her eyes. The diamond earrings Clint got me are stunning. They have four leaf-like diamonds that come together in one point. I love them. I showed him just how much I loved them after we made breakfast Christmas morning, on my knees.
A memory of him begging me to take him deeper flashes in my mind, and I actually have to shake my head to clear my thoughts.
“How is everything going with…well, everything?” I stumble over my words, not wanting to say something that would trigger tears, simply because I know Janelle. She’s over crying, over being angry.
“It's going. I’m still undecided about signing on for another term—with everything going on I may…I’m not sure, but I won’t be making hasty decisions. I’ll get there eventually. What time does the tournament begin?”
Looking at the clock on my nightstand, it reads 6:50 a.m. “In like forty minutes, I have to get out of here.” Janelle is an extreme early riser from being in the military for all these years. “When you called me this morning, it really had me worried. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I just…With my uncle Matt being gone, I don't know what I want. He was a big reason why I joined the military. Following in his and my dad’s footsteps but now…” She goes quiet, and I slip on my sneakers as I wait for her to finish her thought. “You ever just live your whole life thinking one thing, and thenboom,everything changes?”
I exhale through my nose, hiding the aching laugh I want to release. “Actually, yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”
“You do?” Surprise coats her tone, and I reply quickly, “I know this is different, but when Clinton came back into my life, I didn’t think I was worthy of another chance. I had this immovable thought that I wouldn't be able to give him the love he deserves because I simply didn't see it in my future.” I grab my bag and lock the door, clicking the keyfob for my car and getting in.
“One sec, let it connect to the Bluetooth,” I say to Janelle, waiting for the connection to link. Setting the phone in its holder, I continue, “I’ve always been so fearful of falling in love, but when he came back it pushed me to figure outwhyI was so damn scared. I realized fear was only going to give me so much, and I wanted more than that.”
“I had no idea, Lo. So, what did you want?”
“I wanted freedom to love him without the fear of running away. Instead of letting him run away and abandon me, I did it to him years ago. I even ran away again when he showed up at Shaken Tropes a few months back.” I laugh, clicking on the blinker to turn. “I am a grown-ass woman, and I ran away, hid from him in the kitchen, girl.”
“That doesn't seem like you at all.” She giggles, and though it's at my expense it's so good to hear joy in her voice.
“It’s themewhen I’m scared. After I realized I wasn't running away because I didn't want to love him, but running away to beat him to it, I had to make the choice myself. Determine if he was worth fighting my fear.”
“I take it he was?” Janelle asks, but it feels more like a statement than a question. I pull into the golf course, parking next to Clinton’s car. He smiles at me from behind the open trunk, pulling his golf bag out.
