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“Brendan,” he corrects. “Say my name, angel.”
“Satan Claus.”
His free hand smacks the side of my ass. I cry out his name as my body goes off once again. I clench around him, coming hard. He grunts out my name with both his hands going to my hips to jerk me a few more times. My entire body goes limp as his release spills inside of me again. I fall back onto his chest; not sure I’ll ever be able to move again.
His hands run up and down my back, gently stroking me. I sigh, nuzzling into his neck while breathing him in.
“Don’t leave me,” I whisper against him. I don’t think I could ever go without him. Worry sets in as my mind comes down from its sexual haze. What if he gets tired of my weird quirks? Maybe he’ll think my social anxiety is too much to deal with or my clinging will get overbearing. Because let me tell you, now that we’ve had sex, and I know what I’ve been missing, I’m about to get a whole lot worse with my clinging.
“I’ll always pick you first.” He turns his head to kiss the top of mine.
I let my eyes fall closed as I lie on him, feeling the happiest I’ve ever felt in my life. When I open them again, I jerk to a sitting position and realize I’m on the sofa alone. The blanket that was on me falls away. The house is completely dark except for the fire burning in the fireplace. Mrs. Claws pokes her head out from her Christmas house to see what’s going on.
“Where did he go?” I ask, but she only goes back inside her house. I go in search of clothes so that I can look around for Brendan. I call out his name, but he doesn’t answer. When I make it to the front door, I peek out the window to see that everything is covered in snow. The only light is coming from the moon high in the sky. All the lights are out in my house and on the street. We must have lost power. But where did Brendan go? He must have gone home. Why would he do that? Why would he leave me after we shared such an intimate experience together? I try to remain calm and not think the worst.
“You okay?” I jerk around to see Laura standing there.
“Did you walk in this weather?” I point outside. For once she is actually dressed for the weather. There is snow still on her boots.
“Wanted to check on you.” She walks past me, looking out the window toward Brendan’s house.
“Why do you think Brendan is bad?” I make my way back to the fireplace where it’s warm. I sit down, wringing my hands together, worrying about where he went. He’ll be back, I try to reassure myself. He said he loved me. I felt it. That wasn't a lie. At least it didn’t feel like it. It’s not as though another person has ever said those words to me before.
“You just have to trust me.” She keeps an eye out the window but comes closer.
“I don’t even know where you live, Laura, or what you actually do for a living,” I remind her. I have this need to defend Brendan.
“I’m your friend,” Laura says with a little more heat to her words. I swallow, feeling guilty. I don’t want to be that girl who picks a man over her friend, but Laura’s not giving me anything here.
“I’m a spy. You know that.” She shrugs. I roll my eyes.
“So you’re a spy and what? Brendan is a hitman? Sure. Whatever. The joke isn't funny right now.”
Laura sits down in front of the fire facing me. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“So, you’re a spy.” I half laugh, throwing my hands up.
She shrugs. I reach over to the table next to me, playing with the glass nutcracker I got last year on sale. My hand wraps around it and I pretend to move it over but at the last second, I lob it at her. She catches it mid-air without blinking and sets it down next to her. Her expression doesn't change.
“Well then.” I sigh. “You really are a spy.” I could go for some eggnog now because I don’t know what to do with this. “Wait. Brendan is a hitman?” I half scream. Holy crap, I’ve slept with a hired killer. That thought is both scary and exciting at the same time. I notice that it doesn’t change the way I feel about him.
“I didn't say that.” She wrinkles her nose. “You did.”
I feel a little disappointed by her denial, but I’ll never admit to that. “So he doesn't kill people?”
“Maybe he’s killed someone. I don’t know, but it’s not what he’s known for.”
“And he’s not a spy? I feel like spies might kill people.” I keep on thinking. “Wait.Youkill people?”
“Pretty sure I’ve offered to kill a few people for you before,” she scoffs. “Why are you getting all bent out of shape about it now?”
“I thought we were joking!”
“I don’t joke.”
“Are you spying on Brendan? Is that why you’re here?” I know my words might hurt her if they’re not valid, but I need to ask anyway. She pulled no punches when it came to her disapproval of him, and I’m not going to go easy on her when it comes to this. I feel the need to stand up for him now like I should have at the bakery.
She remains quiet for a few moments.
