Huey pulls me forward, sniffing the snow and uncovering a patch of dead grass. When he presses his snout to a new area, white dust reveals a bloody stone. Bending down, I flip it around and cover it again. For once I just want to remember what I did. I rub at my head. There was a pattern and now there isn’t. Why would I hurt a guy I’ve never seen before? Did I think he was Henry? What if he was? What if . . . I shake off anything threatening to pop up in my head next.
I can’t stay again. We had one good night together. Asking for more would be asking for too much. After Huey is donereminding me why I’ll never make snow ice cream, I use one of the baggies attached to his leash to pick up his mess and toss it in the outside dumpster on my way back inside.
The door shuts a little too hard behind me and Henry jumps up. “You’re back.”
“I am. Is the rice already cooking?”
“Not yet. Wanted to soak it in the water a little longer.”
“How much water?”
“Three cups. Is that good?”
“Perfect,” I say, letting Huey off the leash. He retreats back to his favorite spot on the recliner, and I kick off my shoes by the door, making my way to where the scent of cinnamon is heavy in the air.
Once my hands are washed, I press one on top of his, mixing the sticks and rice more with the water. “Got to get it all blended well.”
He smiles up at me. “Feel free to do that as many times as you need.” He winks and I laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s so hard to go long without putting my lips and hands on him in some way. As soon as I retract my hand to turn on the stovetop, my skin starts to achingly miss his, so I use the other to press on his lower back.
“You can close the lid now.”
He does as I say, moving the lid over the pot a few times before placing it in the right spot. “Do we wait now?”
“Yeah. About fifteen minutes.”
“Plenty of cuddling time,” he says, dragging me back to the couch. I follow closely behind him, pressing my smile to his ear so he knows what he’s doing to me. Letting him know how much I like being here and being with him.
Eyes lighting up, he pulls me down with him onto the couch, and I check the time on my phone before tugging him against my chest. I stroke his hair, burying my nose in his soft honey strandsthat smell like strawberries. We sit here quietly and the next time I look at my screen, it’s nearly time to add the condensed milk to the pot.
“Time goes by while you’re having fun,” I say, rubbing his shoulder.
“Apparently.” I slide to the edge of the couch, stretching out my arms, and walk over to the kitchen, reaching the stove before him. I grab everything else we need, telling him what’s being added to the counter, and he pours each ingredient in. When the food’s done, neither of us waste time shoveling some into two bowls.
I suggest we sit at the table, and he assures me that since we’re on vacation, regular rules don’t apply. What he says sounds too good to disagree with, so I don’t. Plus, this means I get to sit closer to him, pressing my body to his on the couch. We eat, talk, turn on some Christmas music, and talk some more. When our bowls are both empty, I pull him up from the couch and we dance to“Santa Baby.”
I spin him around the living room, and I do it so much that we both get dizzy, falling into each other on the floor. We erupt into laughter, rolling around, and he tickles me, but I’m nowhere near as ticklish as him. The playfulness turns heated and he starts rubbing his erection over mine. His warm, heavy breaths tangle with mine and I swallow down his moan with my mouth, locking his tongue in place with my own as I grind harder against him.
“Raf.”
“Yeah, Honey?”
“I want . . . fuck . . . I want . . .”
“Tell me. What do you want?”
“You,” he says against my panting lips. “All of you. Nothing in between us. Just you.”
“Then that’s what you’ll get.” I lift off my shirt and then his before working off my pants. My underwear comes off next and I kick off my socks, laughing into his mouth when one of his legs gets stuck in his sweats. He pulls at the material harder, and I don’t wait for them to be completely off him before I’m sucking one of his hard nubs between my teeth.
I lap at the sensitive flesh and then move to the other nipple, biting a little at the tip before dragging my mouth to his swelling cock head. I lap at the leaking slit and then suck him into my mouth, reaching my hand behind him to probe at his already wet hole.
“What did you do while I was outside, Honey?”
“I . . . I don’t know what you mean.” Tone shifting, his cheeks pinken and I smirk.
“Oh, I think you do, my horny little sweetheart.”
“I . . . I wanted to be ready.”
