Felix has already proven to be the exception, and damn, he’s pretty hardheaded too. Instead of backing down when I argue, he just…argues back.
But always respectfully?
I don’t understand it.
How is he so much younger, but so much more mature than any of the people I’ve dated before? Is it an act, one that will disappear if I surrender and admit some type of feelings?
“It’s been a few years since my last tree,” is all I tell him.
“What happened?” He presses, but it doesn’t feel invasive.
It feels right to answer him, to open up, but something stops me. My hatred for the holidays? My fear of being hurt?
“Things.” Instead of telling him the details, I offer updifferentinformation to hopefully deter him. “You know the only thing I like about the holidays?”
“You admit thereissomething you like about the holidays?” He laughs, moving toward the box of ornaments. “Please, do tell.”
Taking a deep breath, I force out the admittance—to him, and myself. “The festive meals at restaurants. The ones only around at this time of year.”
“Theyaregood.”
I nod, crossing my arms as I stare at the single ornament I’ve hung. “They are, and they’re gatekept by this damned holiday season. They should be offered year-round.”
“But then they’ll lose their specialness.” His words are soft, but voice grows louder as he approaches me. “And the holidays bring special things and feelings every year. It’s part of the magic.”
I feel his presence behind me before his hand snakes around my waist. He reaches past me, pulling me against him as he hangs an ornament high on the tree.
My heart races, my skin is on fire, and all I want to do is turn around and jump his bones.
That’s not a bad idea, actually. Avoid any more holiday talkandget some? Win-win for me.
I turn, reaching up and wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. Pulling him down, I gently brush my lips against his.
With his free hand, he cups my face, pressing his lips firmly to mine. It only takes seconds for the kiss to deepen, his split tongue slithering between my lips.
The way his tongue can basically wrap around mine is a sensation only he can give me. Well, one I only want fromhim.
I know what that tongue can do for me…but he doesn’t know what mine can do for him.
My curiosity has been piqued since the moment I saw his two dicks. How does one give a double blow job?
We’re about to find out.
As I pull my lips from his, he lets out a sound of disapproval. Our eyes meet, and I hold his gaze as my hands travel to the zipper of his pants.
The zipper bulges against my palm, and slowly, I let my lips curve up into a smirk. I’ve barely touched him and he’s already this hard?
Unzipping it, I tease, “You want me to touch you, baby?”
“I absolutely do,” he says breathlessly.
As my fingers slide beneath his waistband, there’s instant fire as our skin connects. “One condition—noChristmas puns.”
His hand finds my jaw, cupping my face and tipping it up to look at him. His touch is always gentle, but dominant. A perfect combination.
“Just one pun, then done. Are you sure I’m happy to see you, and those aren’t just candy canes in my pants?” he asks, pressing his lips to mine before I can grumble.
I inhale deeply, memorizing the way his lips feel against mine. Fuck it, I’ll roll with his dumb puns. I have been anyway.
