Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Mine is the top button. Your door is the bottom button. I’ll close it.”
My door.
I block that out. I don’t need to get more attached to this man than I already am. I clean off the kitchen island and start unpacking bags.
“I’m going to go change into something more comfortable.” Oliver again stops long enough to kiss the corner of my mouth before heading down the hallway to his bedroom to change.
That gives me time to unbox and plug in the small tabletop fiber-optic tree I bought. I told him it was for my mom, but really I bought it for him. Glancing down the hall, I don’t see him, so I rush to the living room and rearrange the end table in the corner, add the tree, and plug it in. I’m sweating like I’ve just run a damn marathon. Nervous sweats are the worst. I don’t know how he’s going to feel about the tree, and while I don’t want to piss him off, I need him to remember the joy of the holidays. He’s done well so far.
I dash back to the kitchen and start opening the wrapping paper and tape. When Oliver walks back into the kitchen, I pretend like nothing is wrong.
“You okay? Your face is all flushed.”
“I’m just excited.” Reaching for my phone in my purse, I wave it in the air. “Can I hook up to your speaker?”
“I have a feeling I know where this is going, but I’m going to say yes anyway.” He chuckles, running his hands through his hair.
I connect to his Bluetooth speaker, and Christmas music fills the room. “Don’t worry, we’ll wrap all the gifts you bought today too.”
He grumbles something about hating Christmas and women he can’t say no to.
I consider that a win, and he hasn’t noticed the tree yet. We spend the next two hours wrapping presents. I dance around his kitchen, singing all the Christmas songs, while he smiles and shakes his head.
It’s not until “Jingle Bells” comes on that I catch him mouthing the words. “What, sir, are you doing?” I stop and place my hands on my hips. I have to bite down on my cheek to keep from smiling.
“What?” He looks down at the gift he’s wrapping. It’s the last one of his, and I just finished mine. “Am I doing it wrong or something?”
“You were singing!”
“What?” he scoffs. “I wasn’t singing.”
“You were. I saw your lips moving.”
“I was talking to myself.” He sets the finished gift on top of his pile that’s on the stool next to him.
“You were singing. I can read lips, Ollie.”
“You’re seeing things, baby. Now, this is done. Let’s go snuggle.” He scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.
“What about the mess?”
“Fuck the mess, Blake. All day…. I’ve been waiting all day for this. The mess can wait.”
When we reach the couch, he drops me with a bounce, and I laugh. “Fine, if you wanted to snuggle, all you had to do was say so,” I reply cheekily.
“Give me that sassy mouth.” He covers my lips with his, and I bury my hands in his hair. There’s a slight stubble on his cheeks. It's something he’s been doing more often, and I love it. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like between my thighs. I moan at the thought, and he deepens the kiss.
He lowers himself between my thighs, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding him close. I’m not sure how long we stay like this. It could be minutes; it could be hours. All I know is that this is where I want to be.
“Your kisses are addicting,” he murmurs against my lips. He moves back, forcing me to release my legs as he stands and adjusts his hard cock in his pants. “Snuggles. That’s next.”
“Snuggles. Right. Wait? Is the kissing part already over? I like that part. We can combine them. I’m a great multitasker,” I assure him.
He chuckles. “Baby, we’re about more than just kisses. Snuggles.”
I look down at the jeans and sweater I’m wearing. “I’m not in snuggle clothes.”
“We can fix that. Come with me.” He offers me his hand, helps me from the couch, and leads me down the hall to his bedroom. Keeping my hand locked in his, he takes me to his dresser. With one hand, he pulls open the drawer and grabs a T-shirt before opening another and grabbing a pair of plaid pajama pants. “These have a string, and you’ll be able to tighten it.”
“This is perfect. Thank you.”
He stands there, his hand still locked around mine. He lazily lets his eyes roam over my body, starting at my head and moving to my toes. “Do you need any help?”
“I’m a big girl. I’ve been dressing myself for a while now.” I smile up at him.