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“But what if it is?” I ask, my head spinning as it becomes increasingly clear that she’s here for me, for us. Because she can’t walk away from the potential here any more than I can. “What if it’s so easy, Rose? What if all we have to do is stop letting fear win?”
Her bottom lip trembles. “Then I’ll feel really stupid,” she whispers. “And really grateful. I love you, Bear. I don’t want to say goodbye. Not tonight or any other night.”
Throat tight, I say, “I want to hold you so badly right now, but this towel is about to fall off.”
“Oh, no.” She bites her lip, adding in a huskier voice, “That would be terrible.”
I bite my lip, too, but the smile tugging at my mouth muscles its way through. “But that would hardly be fair. Me, in nothing but a cast and a smile and you totally dressed.”
She reaches for the bottom of her sweater, making my heart skip a beat. “You’re right. That wouldn’t be fair.” She strips her top off, tossing it onto the large couch between us, leaving her in nothing but her black satin camisole and pants. She meets my gaze and arches a brow. “Better?”
“Much better,” I murmur. “But there’s still so much I can’t see.”
She peers at me through her thick lashes as her fingers skim the bottom of her camisole. She’s teasing me, and I love it. “What would you like to see?”
“I’ve been dreaming about your breasts more than I probably should,” I say, the front of my towel growing increasingly indecent. “I have some very intense fantasies involving your nipples and my mouth.”
Her throat works, but she doesn’t look away. “I have similar fantasies.”
“Looks like we’re on the same page, then.” I hold my breath as she reaches for the bottom of the camisole and draws it slowly up, revealing her pale skin, inch by glowing inch. Then, she whips it up and over her head. I get a good look at her small, but full breasts, topped by peach-colored nipples that are already hard for me, and control is a thing of the past.
Somehow, I meet her on the couch without my crutches. Maybe I hopped over on one leg, maybe I teleported, maybe it was a little bit of holiday magic—all I know is that I’m so grateful to have her in my arms. As we fall back onto the cushions, her skin soft against mine as she straddles me and wraps her arms around my neck, I’m the happiest man in the tristate area.
“I’ve been dreaming about this every night since September,” she confesses against my lips, moaning softly as I cup her breasts and drag my thumbs gently over her tight tips. “And that. But be careful with that.”
“Because they’re so sensitive?” I ask, kissing my way down her throat, relishing the sweet smell of her skin.
“Because they make me go from zero to sixty,” she says, already squirming in my lap, even before my trail of kisses reaches one perfect nipple. She fists her hands in my hair, panting, “It’s embarrassing. How fast I get turned on.”
“Not embarrassing, incredible,” I murmur, flicking my tongue across her nipple. My cock jerks beneath the towel as she gasps, and her hips buck sharply forward. “Fuck, Rose, you’re so sexy.”
“You, too,” she says, dragging her fingernails down my bare shoulders with enough force to make my blood rush faster. “But you lied. About the towel. It didn’t fall off, and I’m really sad about it.”
Smiling against her other nipple—just as sweet and sensitive as the first—I say, “I’m sorry. But I bet you could take care of that. If you were so inclined.”
“I’m very inclined.” She shifts to one side, tugging at the towel. I lift my hips, helping her pull the fabric out from under me, revealing my not at all shy or retiring erection.
I’m hard enough to rock a Christmas tree topper, every inch of my probably too long and thick cock on display. I cut a quick glance Rose’s way, but she doesn’t look worried. She looks…hungry.
“You really do think I’m sexy,” she whispers, reaching out to run her fingers lightly up and down my throbbing shaft.
I stifle a moan, my throat tight as I confirm, “The sexiest. But we don’t have to rush. We can take as much time as you need to feel ready.”
She looks up, meeting my gaze as she continues to play with my cock, gripping the shaft and rubbing the pre-come at my tip in circles with the pad of her thumb. “Why? Because you’re enormous, and I’m a delicate little lady flower?”
Balls tightening in response to her attention, I grunt through a clenched jaw. “Something like that. I’ve had trouble before. With other partners. Sometimes it wasn’t comfortable for them.”
