Her hands went straight to the button of his pants. “Now, about this mistletoe tie...”
His brain short-circuited for a few seconds when he realized her intentions. Hereallywanted to talk about the mistletoe tie. But he took hold of her wrists as she unzipped his fly. “Zoe, you don’t have to.”
“Oh, I want to.” She looked up at him, her mouth curved into a naughty smile. “I’ve wanted to since we met, but I promised myself that from now on, a man would only get what he gave and...damn, you can give.”
She kept busy as she spoke, so by the time Preston had a chance to respond, his very hard dick was in her hands and he totally forgot what he was going to say.
Zoe scooted forward slightly on the couch and then her mouth closed over him. Her mouth was hot and wet and it took every single ounce of self-control he had not to grab her by the hair and thrust himself hard between her lips.
“You’re tall,” she murmured, and he realized she was stretching a lot to reach him.
Before his addled brain could come up with a solution, she stood and pushed him down on the couch, sliding his pants and boxers down his thighs as he settled with his head on the padded leather arm.
Then she was leaning over him and her mouth was on him again. He gathered her hair in his fist—wanting to keep it out of her way and to be able to see—and she took his length over and over, pausing to run her tongue in teasing circles over the tip.
Then her hand gripped his shaft, squeezing, and the sight and feel of her lips meeting her curled fingers was almost enough to send him over the edge. But he resisted, wanting to savor the sensation of her mouth and her hand for as long as he could hold out.
But when her grip tightened, the strokes lubricated by her mouth as she took him deep against her throat, and then she splayed out her fingers to sweep over his balls when her hand reached the base of his dick, he was done for.
He groaned as he came, pumping in her mouth, some part of his brain praying he wasn’t pulling too hard on the hair wrapped in his fist. She swallowed and licked until his hand relaxed in her hair and then, after trailing her tongue a final time up his length, she stretched out on the couch next to him and he wrapped his arms around her as he kissed the top of her head.
Cuddled on her couch, with his pants around his thighs and her dress bunched around her waist, he couldn’t think of a single time in his life he’d ever been happier.
I am so in love with you, Zoe.
The words were there, desperate to be said, but he didn’t give voice to the emotion. He knew she had feelings for him, but he wasn’t sure she was ready for their relationship to change yet.
She was so happy and content, she was almost liquid in his arms, and he didn’t want to say anything that could cast a shadow over this night. He’d hold her. Kiss her hair. Maybe get to spend the night in her bed.
For now, he’d just silently feel the words.I love you.
Chapter Ten
Zoe’s favorite place was cuddled up against Preston on his couch. Her couch also worked, but his was a lot more comfortable and his television was definitely bigger than hers.
They were making cookies for holiday baskets and watching Christmas movies. Earlier that morning, once they’d rolled out of his bed—where she’d slept the last few nights—she’d helped him wrap the gifts he’d bought for his parents. Most of them he was saving for their post-Christmas visit, but he was shipping a couple of small things to Hawaii, in care of the resort they’d chosen, so they’d have something from him on Christmas Day.
When her phone chimed, she wasn’t surprised to see a text from Carly. Even with holiday shoppers, November would be as slow as it got before the ski area opened, so they were each taking extra days off before the true last-minute shopping panic started.
Crap. Did you order that Anne of Green Gables box set Carol wants for her granddaughter?
Yes and I ordered an extra to have in stock.She’d just hit send when she realized she hadn’t set the timer on the oven.
“Shit, the cookies.” Dropping her phone on the couch, she sprinted to the oven and yanked open the door. “Okay, so they’re going to be crunchy chocolate chip cookies. Some people like those.”
She was expecting a smart-ass response from Preston, who liked to tease her about her lack of cooking skills. Baked macaroni and cheese excepted, of course. But there was silence from the couch and after setting the cookie sheet on the stove and closing the oven door, she glanced over.
Preston was standing, facing her, and something was wrong. “Preston?”
“You dropped your phone on the couch.”
“I know. I was afraid the cookies were burning.”
“You didn’t put it to sleep first.” He swallowed so hard, she could see his throat working from across the room. “When you’re texting somebody, the previous texts show until they scroll off the screen.”
She didn’t get what he was trying to say. She’d responded to Carly’s text about the special order. What had they been talking about before that? What was the last text she sent her cousin?
You’re the one who suggested a no-strings fling to work the sexual tension out of my system. It was good advice, so I’m following it. Eat your steak.
