Holly came downstairs with Rudolph after Dana hung up. She had put on a pair of my boxers and one of my shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I could make out the outline of her tits beneath the expensive fabric.
“I'm going to make you something nice for breakfast,” she said, waltzing to the kitchen.
“I already see what I want right here,” I said, sliding my hands under the shirt and kissing her.
“I look like a mess,” she said. “You don't want me like this.”
“Of course I do,” I said seriously.
Holly kissed my jaw then spun away to grab the remote. “I'm still going to make breakfast. But I need Christmas shows on. WebFlix has a twenty-four-seven Christmas channel,” she said as Frosty the Snowman popped up on the screen. He was arguing with an elf; there was a lot of hand-waving. It seemed everyone found Christmas stressful.
Holly went back to rummaging in the fridge. Rudolph stood right underfoot. I tried to call the dog away.
“He knows I’m making bacon,” Holly said with a laugh, taking out the meat.
The bacon sizzled in a pan while she mixed up a piecrust. She rolled it out and pressed it into a pan. She stuck the dough in the fridge while she pulled the bacon off the stove, taking the pieces out to cool.
“I'm a little scared at how well you can use that knife,” I told her as she sliced red onions and jalapeños very thin.
“This was my life for years,” Holly said with a laugh as she mixed them with lime juice, salt, and sugar. “When I landed my first restaurant job, I would have to chop a bag of onions a day. Some of them in rings, some sliced, some minced. It was a lot of onions. The trick is to make sure your knife is very sharp.” She cut them deftly.
“Piecrust is going in the oven,” she said. “And now to make the filling. I don't want it fluffy, so I'm folding in the eggs,” she explained, sprinkling salt and pepper on them then adding the bacon, cheddar, and corn. She poured it into the piecrust and arranged the sliced onions on top.
“It's like a soup muffin,” I remarked.
“Oh, those muffins Chloe makes? Yeah, those are really tasty,” Holly said, smiling. “But not as tasty as you!”
41
Holly
Iwasn't sure why I was so freaked out by being with Owen. Maybe it would have been easier if we'd just fucked and then I did the walk of shame back to my room.
But instead of just getting his jollies and going to sleep like you'd think a billionaire like him would do, he put me first. Now he seemed perfectly content to let me wear his clothes and walk around barefoot in his condo.
“So is this your usual morning routine?” I asked, sitting down on the couch next to him after I slid the pie in the oven.
“It's usually a little more hectic,” he admitted. “But I already did my workout and took Rudolph for a jog and answered emails.”
“What time did you get up?” I asked in surprise.
“Never went to sleep.”
“Too bad, because I slept very well,” I teased him.
He grabbed me by the waist, and I straddled his lap. I could feel his hardness through his pants. I leaned forward and kissed him softly.
“I don't want to mess up your suit,” I murmured against his mouth.
He unbuttoned the dress shirt I was wearing, kissing down from my neck to my collarbone to my tits, sucking and teasing one nipple then the other until they were hard little pebbles.
“You won't mess it up,” he said. His hand cupped my ass then snuck under the shorts. I was wet and aching for him. I ground against his hand as he kissed me, his tongue dipping in and out of my mouth. He pulled us back down on the couch. It was so large that Owen could stretch out fully. I was still straddling him. He pushed the shorts down, and I spread my legs, moaning.
“I want your cock,” I said hoarsely, all earlier hesitations burned away with aching need.
“As soon as that timer goes off, you're going to want to jump up and check the food. I'm going to need more time than that,” he said, thumbs rubbing circles on my lower back.
“No one likes a braggart.”
