Idid that.
Well, he did it, but you know what I mean.
As he pulls out, I feel wetness between my legs. “Hang on.” Alec jumps out of bed and runs across the hall. He’s back in seconds with a warm washcloth for me. He cleans me up, and I let him because, a) I’m pooped and b) he’s Alec.
“Chrissie is full of crap.”
“Huh?” Alec glances up, startled. “What do you mean?”
“Remember my speech at the wedding?”
“Uh, yeah.” How could he forget?
“Chrissie’s theory that you’d be terrible in bed?”
“Right.”
“She’s full of crap.”
“You think I’m good in bed?” He gives me a smug smile.
“You know you are.”
“We haven’t even done the good stuff yet.”
“Like?”
“Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll show you.”
“Can we eat while we wait? You worked up my appetite.”
“Sure.” Alec takes my hands in his and tugs me until I’m sitting up. I’m literally a ball of jelly right now. “Come on. Let’s go out and eat naked on the sofa.”
“Is that one of your fantasies?”
He winks. “One of many.”
“Cool.” I stand from the bed and walk out of his bedroom door completely naked. I can’t believe I’m doing it, but the fact that he can’t keep his hands off me tells me I’ve got nothing to feel self-conscious about. He likes my body; hell, I think he loves it. So why can’t I?
ChapterForty
Alec
Best fucking Christmas ever.
I can’t believe she surprised me today. Part of me hoped something like this would happen, but she gave no indication she was going to fly down. As a matter of fact, she told me, just yesterday, how she had plans to spend Christmas Eve with her aunt and uncle. We talked about Vicky and Anthony and their fucked-up marriage—my words, not Matilda’s. Although, I think she agrees with me on that point.
When Sharon told me a pretty redhead stopped by while I was out grabbing the food, I knew it was her. Then I spotted her ducking down in her car. No doubt the appearance of Sharon threw her, but she’s a friend now, just like Jim is. I’m glad that was cleared up quickly, because the last thing I want my Matilda to think is that I’d be unfaithful to her.
No way.
I also told her, if I ever bought cabbage when she needed lettuce, I run right back out and get the right stuff.
Jesus, my brother is an idiot. And Vicky, well, she needs some help. My theory about all of that is Vicky enjoys making up with Anthony so much, she conjures up these ridiculous issues—not that Anthony doesn’t fuck up. I’m sure he does. We all do from time to time. They’re just creating issues that should be nonissues for the thrill of the makeup fuck. Again, those are my feelings, my words, not Matilda’s.
“Mm.” Matilda takes a bite of the pad Thai I ordered. “So good.”
I’m listening but not really hearing her because of the way she’s eating those noodles, sucking them into her mouth and such. My dick is hard again, and since we’re nude on my sofa, she sees right away. The blush that creeps up from her chest, the one speckled with freckles, turns me on even more.
