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Chapter Seventeen
Lexi
Something tickles my nose, pulling me from a deep sleep. I swipe it away, but it returns moments later. “Wake up, beautiful. Merry Christmas.”
Linkin.
My body starts to heat when I recall how easily he pushed me over the edge into multiple orgasms on multiple occasions. Just the thought of how easily he played my body, especially last night in the shower, has me on edge and probably embarrassingly wet.
“Stop smiling like that, Firecracker, or we’ll never make it out of this bed.”
Cracking open my eyes, I’m overcome with this weird giddiness that I’ve never experienced before. It’s part hope, part elation, part anticipation, all wrapped up in a naked package.
“I made pancakes,” he whispers conspiratorially with a wide grin and sparkle in his dark eyes. “And coffee.”
“Oh, coffee and carbs. You’re a wicked, wicked man,” I chide back.
“I am. It’s one of the many things you love about me,” he adds, pulling back the covers. “Get up and throw on a shirt before I say fuck breakfast and fuck Christmas and keep you tied to the bed all day.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I reply, standing up and stretching before taking the shirt directly off Linkin’s back. He helps, of course, lifting his arms so I can remove the fresh white t-shirt he must have retrieved from his apartment. “This one will do,” I say as I bring the material over my head, inhaling the manly, musky scent that is pure Linkin.
“That one’s mine,” he quips with a smirk.
“Was…” I say, singsong, letting the word trail off as I turn into his chest. “Merry Christmas,” I say softly, wrapping my arms around his naked chest.
“Merry Christmas,” he replies, kissing the top of my head as he holds me close.
“Okay,” I start, slowly pulling back. “It’s carbs and coffee time.”
“Are you sure? Because it kinda feels like I want to get you naked and do dirty things with my hard-on time,” he pleas, following me into the kitchen.
“Maybe if you’re a good boy and stuff me full of fluffy pancakes.” Reaching into the cabinet, I pull down two coffee cups.
“Oh, I’ll stuff you, all right,” he quips with a smile before filling our mugs, leaving room at the top for me to add my flavored creamer.
My ears start to burn, probably a rosy shade of pink like my cheeks. I’ve never blushed, yet ever since Linkin stripped his way into my life, I find myself turning into a pool of hormonal girly mush more often than not.
“Eat. If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you a present.”
“Present?” That perks me right up.
“Only if you’re good.”
“Oh, I’m definitely good,” I say, batting my eyelashes and piling big, fluffy pancakes onto my plate.
An hour later, we’re dressed and ready for lunch with his mom. Well, technically, Linkin was already ready since he slipped home and showered and changed while I was sleeping. He returned with a small red box with gold ribbon. It’s been sitting below the Charlie Brown Christmas tree, enticing me to open it.
And now it’s time.
“You first,” I say, handing Linkin the large flat box with his name on it.
Linkin rips the paper off like a kid. He uses his pocket knife to cut through the package tape, and slowly pulls the gift from the packaging.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” he says, his eyes twinkling like Christmas lights and wide with excitement.
“You like it?”
“Like? I fucking love it,” he replies, running two fingers over the painted canvas.
