Page 12 of The Santas Who Stole Me

“Are you ready for me to move, kitten?”

“I’m all yours,” she whispers and pushes herself up, giving me a new angle to go deeper.

I move methodically in and out of her until both of our bodies are shiny with a layer of sweat, alternating between kissing her mouth and her neck. The room fills with the sounds of our skin hitting and the wetness between us, and it will be on a loop in my mind forever. My new favorite soundtrack reminding me of how deep I can go to join us together. When she can’t take anymore her walls tense and spasm around me, sending me over the edge after her. I pour into her with a grunt as she keeps milking me, her eyes flutter and her face full of bliss.

When she comes down again, I kiss her mouth hard and pull out of her.

A lazy smile crosses her face, and she watches me finger my cum in and out of her.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting me back inside. How do you feel?” I should feel guilty for taking her so soon. But she’s mine now. Her cheeks grow pink as she watches my fingers. The sight has me hard again. I glance at the clock on the bedside table. It’s breakfast time, and my day is clear to find the agent and plan his bloody death. My balls tighten at the thought. Maybe this is going to help me get over my murder slump, which I refuse to call a midlife crisis, as Calum referred to it.

“Is this the part where you tell me you hope to see me around, but you need to get to work so I slip out the back door?” she asks in a sleepy voice, noticing where my gaze went to clock on the table.

I push the thoughts of the contents of that drawer and my browser history out of my mind. I need to focus on her. She has to pick me. I’ll take the best care of her and our babies.

“Nope, not done with you yet, kitten.” I push the thought of never being done away before I lose my mind and declare what I have planned for us. I need to bottle up my need for her until she is ready to hear it. I trace her bottom lip with my tongue before stealing her breath with another kiss.

She squeals as I hold her tiny body and carry her to the tub, whispering in her ear how perfect she is. I hold her with one arm while I set up the bathtub and help her in, turning on the jets.

“I’ll get some girly bath shit for you.”

“This feels amazing. I haven’t had a bath in ages.” She seems to be enjoying herself, so I wonder why she doesn’t do this regularly. Baths aren’t my thing, but Calum likes them.

“Do you only have a shower at your place?”

“Something like that.”

I don’t press what she means, sensing I’ve pulled enough trauma out of her for a day. Hopefully the orgasms made up for it, but I better give her another just to be on the safe side.

Chapter Eleven

GEORGIE

Holy cow, I’m going to die. I just came the hardest I ever have in my life, and my legs and arms are jelly. I stare at Keeper’s back muscles rippling across his large body when he walks out of the bathroom. After the mind-blowing sex, he rubbed my clit under the warm water until I came undone again. Sheesh, this is crazy. Sinking down into the tub, the water washes over me and stings in the best way. I slip my head all the way under, holding my breath and closing my eyes. Keeper’s dick is fucking huge, and if I never walk straight again that will be fine with me. Eventually, my lungs run out of air, pushing my head out of the water as a shadowy figure leans right over me. The water splashes to the floor with my jump, and I slam my body against the back of the tub, clutching my chest to get my heart beating again.

“Jesus, Calum,” I shriek.

“Not the messiah, just Calum, but maybe add ‘Sir’ or ‘Lord’ instead, that would be hot.” He glances down at my body under the water shamelessly.

I should shriek or cover up, but I’m too blissed out from my orgasms. Plus, I kind of like his attention.

“Morning cookie, I brought you some fresh clothes.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder and points to a pile on the counter.

“Why are you calling me that?”

He ignores my question with a smirk. He’s chaos and doesn’t choose to hide it beneath his good looks. “Get dressed and come eat breakfast. Zee is cooking.” He gives me a playboy smile like he isn’t being a total creep sneaking in on me in the tub, and with a wink he leaves the room. Why is it that when someone like me winks, I’d look mental, but Calum’s wink is more likely to blow up everyone’s panties from here to the coast?

I wash up and get out of the bath, looking at the clothes he left. A sports bra and some booty shorts in black spandex. Black tennis shoes and a hair tie sit next to the clothes. Guess they thought of everything. The top has a neon pink band at the bottom, which I immediately like since it matches my guitar case. I need to ask where that is and figure out if I’m leaving here with or without permission.

These guys are clearly into something shady, but they don’t realize what they are up against. I need to get away before the situation gets any worse. Chad won’t stop, and my best bet is to keep hiding. I see my reflection in the mirror, and this outfit leaves little to the imagination. It’s better than a towel and wet underwear from yesterday. I hesitate, not knowing where my boots are, but I could run in these shoes if I needed to.

Following the voices to the kitchen, I step through the door. They all stop and stare. Keeper is freshly showered, his hair a little wet, but he’s in a shirt, jeans, and combat boots. Zeke is flipping an omelet, and the corner of his lip turns up when he sees me. Calum sits on the island in front of Zeke and the stove top wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants and Nikes. He takes a gulp of some orange juice, but I feel his gaze on me again, more intense than in the bathtub.

Somehow, in front of them now, I feel more naked than I did last night when they cleaned me up. I wrap my arms around my waist wishing I had grabbed one of their shirts before I came down.

“Do you want an omelet? Vegetable?” Zeke asks, breaking the silence.