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He held my gaze as he slid on the first set of boots. They were fuzzy inside and warm, but a hair too snug. I shook my head, and he slid them off one by one. Instead of sliding the next set onto my feet, he inched forward until I could no longer hold my knees together.
“Color, Piper?” he asked me, as his fingers caressed my knees.
“Green,” I whispered back, letting my knees fall slack. He gazed at the red lacy panties I wore under my dress as they grew damp from my increasing need.
“Oh, fucking hell, Piper,” he said reverently, running his hands up my thighs until he reached the bare skin above my stockings.
We sat there for a moment, staring at each other, our breathing turning ragged as the tension escalated.
“Boots,” Benedict said, again, bringing our attention back to the present.
“Right, boots,” I said, my voice breathy. When I licked my lips, James groaned, then dragged my face to his for another kiss. Our mouths slid together, and I moved forward to cradle him between my thighs.
The attendant cleared her throat beside us, and I jerked away, my face flaming red with embarrassment. James just grinned and kissed my nose. “Sorry,” I whispered, not sure who I was apologizing to. The store was full of people! It was Christmas Eve! And here I was playing stupid sex games with three strangers in a public place with a plug shoved up my ass. I felt like an idiot, a totally inappropriate idiot.
As if sensing my mood, James pushed my knees back together and slid a quilted white boot topped with fur over my foot. It reached the top of my calf, and he kissed my knee as he zipped it up. I took a deep breath. And then another. He watched me as he took the tissue paper out of the second boot.
I closed my eyes. Sex goddess. I’m a goddamned sex goddess, I repeated to myself, and then let my knees fall open again. James made a strangled sound and then grinned widely.
“That’s my gorgeous girl,” he said as he slipped the second boot over my foot, never taking his eyes from the splash of red between my legs. My breathing grew erratic and a flush crept across my chest. He zipped the boot up my calf, then leaned over to press a kiss on the soft skin of my thigh above my stocking. I gasped, and he nipped my skin with his teeth before pushing on my knees and standing up.
He held out his hand, and I stood. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Warm and toasty.”
“Will you be able to walk all day in them?”
I took a few experimental steps, marveling at the heat still simmering in my core as I twirled among the shoe displays. “Absolutely. Let me pay for them and get my old shoes packed up.”
Benedict had already taken care of both. Ibrahim handed me my coat, and when I would have buttoned it back up myself, James gently nudged my fingers aside. He took my gloves out of my pockets and slid them on, one by one, before lifting my hood and covering my head.
“Ready?” James asked, grinning.
A tiny part of me was screaming about my hard-won independence. A much larger part of me wanted to rub her hands together and cackle with glee at these men treating me like the queen I aspired to be. I reminded myself that it was only for a few more days, and then I would never see them again.
James offered me his arm. “Now that we’re all dressed appropriately for the weather, let’s find some carolers.”
JAMES’ COMMENT ABOUT searching for carolers was disingenuous. He’d already searched concert locations on his phone and programmed in walking directions. Ibrahim and Benedict fell behind and let James and I walk together, enjoying each other’s company and the silliness of the situation. I desperately tried to think about anything else but my soaking panties, the fullness in my bottom, and my growing need.
James stole as many kisses as he could, until we were both breathless, our lips sliding together under the snow. We made our way to a public square with a giant Christmas tree in the center and a frozen-looking chorus on risers. Toasty in my fresh coat and boots, I snuggled between James and Ibrahim as we listened to them sing, pretending the plug shifting with my every movement wasn’t the sexiest and most distracting thing I’d ever felt, just as James predicted.
The choir sang with enthusiasm despite the snow, full of joy and Christmas spirit. As the concert ended, Benedict brought me a steaming cup of hot chocolate.
“Thank you,” I whispered, snuggling back into James’ warmth behind me as I sipped the liquid heat. Despite my wool coat and boots, I was still freezing in the wintery weather.
Benedict’s golden eyes tracked my tongue as I licked a stray drop of chocolate off my lips. His rapt attention should’ve been unnerving, but with an expiration date on our relationship, I reveled in the attraction between us. He bent forward and kissed the corner of my mouth. When I opened my lips to invite him in further, he nipped my lip hard, then pulled away, leaving me gasping.
James held me tight as I clutched at my hot chocolate.
“I’m hungry, sweetheart,” James murmured. “For food,” he clarified, a moment later, as he nibbled on my earlobe.
I giggled. Giggled. Who was this woman, and what had she done with the old Piper? We made our way through the pre-Christmas throngs, James and Ibrahim calling out candy canes and Santas as they saw them, our laughing kisses drawing snickers and chuckles from passers-by.
The restaurant Benedict chose was packed, but the maître d' motioned for us to follow him on a twisty path through tables of diners eating and laughing to the sound of jazzy Christmas music. The restaurant was beautiful, decorated with raw wooden beams, as if we were in an elegant log cabin. Our table was a round booth nestled in the corner. The white table cloth reached the floor, and James’ eyes heated up as they flicked between me and the table. What was he thinking?
Ibrahim unbuttoned my gloves, his warm proximity torturous as need reasserted itself in my core. He kissed my wrists before tugging off my gloves and slipping them into my pocket. My thighs clenched, the ache of the plug an overwhelming reminder of my bucket list and the games we played.
Benedict slipped my coat off my shoulders, kissing the nape of my neck before hanging it on a hook beside our table. He gestured for me to sit. I snuggled between Benedict and James, with Ibrahim to James’ left, moaning softly when sitting drove the plug further into me. All three men were so damn big, their long legs knocked together against mine, larger than life in the crowded restaurant.
