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Nope. Struck out at Timothy’s wedding too.Am collecting cats for impending spinsterhood.
Lauren
Can I join you?
Me
Not if you’re banging Nic.
Lauren
F-L-I-N-G.
Me
Suuure
Lauren
My family is impossible. I toss my phone aside.
Timothy drops onto the couch next to me. “What are you still doing up?”
I raise my hot chocolate. “What about you?”
“Need some water. Got to stay hydrated.”
“Gross.”
He laughs, then falls silent for thirty seconds. “It’s been a great Christmas,” he says wistfully, staring at the tree.
This has been the best Christmas I’ve had in years. Maybe ever. There won’t be another one like it—whatever the future holds—and I want to draw it out a little longer. Make it last. Maybe that’s why I’m still sitting down here when Nic’s already in my room.
“It has. Thank you for the new sister-in-law. Don’t know why she puts up with you, but I’m glad she does.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I’m not going to question my luck. And neither should you. Get your ass upstairs.”
Timothy’s right. At least for tonight, I need to shut off my brain. I need to enjoy the time I have with Nic.
He heads to his room with a couple of glasses of water, and I drop my mug in the sink before I head upstairs.
Nic’s sitting on the end of my bed, wearing only a pair of red plaid pajama pants and staring at my suitcase and the toys scattered about.
Shit. I forgot I dumped everything on the floor looking for a clean pair of socks earlier today. I’ve already given away all the sex toys I brought for various family members, but I still have enough of my personal collection that my room looks like ground zero in a sex toy-powered orgy.
“I swear I have hobbies that don’t involve orgasms,” I tell Nic, although I can’t think of a single one. Drinking counts, right? Chocolate brownie ice cream?
I don’t know why I brought so many toys, except I didn’t know what I’d be in the mood for, and let’s face it, at this point, I’m a connoisseur.
“I want to watch you,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.
I suck in a breath, my core clenching, all paranoid thoughts of what he thinks my life must look like blown away. “Why?”
Nic motions for me to come closer. I do. I only have so much willpower. None, basically.
When I’m standing in front of him, he brings my leg up next to his hip, guiding me until I’m straddling him. “I want to see how you touch yourself.” He pushes my cardigan over my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
I’d rather touch him. His skin is warm and taut over muscle, and when I trail my hands over him, his eyes darken.
