Oooo Holy Night (A Filthy Dirty Christmas) - Page 5

He gives me a wink, then retreats when Dodge bares his teeth and slams his fist down, making the mugs jump.

“Drink.” He hands me my mug and takes his own, bringing it to his lips like some sort of toy teacup in his monstrous hand.

I can’t help the giggle snort that I release when he pulls the mug away and there’s a pink fluffy splotch of whipped cream hanging on his upper lip.

He gives me a long look and his eyes roam down my chest, and I like the way I see them light up. I like the way he seems a little uneasy around me, the way his dark eyes can’t seem to decide where to rest, flicking from my face down to my chest, then when I slowly uncross my legs, his breath hitches and he makes that low groaning noise again.

“You okay?” I ask, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, pressing my knees together. I know my skirt is too short and I wore it hoping I would see him. I know I’m being a tease but something about how he grabbed my hand and then lifted me onto the bar stool has loosened up the vamp inside of me.

“No,” he answers, low and strained. “I mean, yes, I’m okay. Why are you late?”

I almost spit out my drink. “Late?” My thoughts burn through me, the idea of missing my period one I’ve never considered before, since I’m a virgin.

“Yes, late.” He takes another sip of his drink, adding to the little pink foam now clinging to the scruff of dark growth on his upper lip. “Why did you miss the parade this year? You’ve never missed it in five years.”

“You noticed?”

“Yes, I noticed.”

A blush creeps over my cheeks and down my chest, knowing he’s noticed that I’ve not missed the parade since I started coming.

“My brother.” I shrug. “He dropped me off at my grandparent’s. Said he had to do some business and he took too long. By the time he got back the parade was over. So, we came here.” I look up and restrain another giggle.

“What is so funny?” he asks, the vein in his forehead looking like it’s about to pop.

“You have…” I point to my upper lip then his. “You have some…whipped cream.”

I gasp when he grabs my wrist, pulling it upward until my pointed index finger is just about to touch his lips.

“Where exactly?”

“Right…here.” My courage erupts and I brush the tip of my finger over the cream, swiping it away, then slipping it between my lips onto my tongue.

A gush of warmth spreads between my legs, then before I can say anything Dodge’s white mug shatters in his fist as his face twists into a pained knot, releasing a guttural moan as his shoulders flex, jaw clenched like he’s having a heart attack.

The broken pieces of white porcelain lie on the bar top surrounded by the cocoa, peppermint sick and pink cream as Dodge’s hand grips the edge of the bar like he’s going to fall over.

“Dodge?” I whisper, trying to keep more attention from coming our way, especially my brother’s, but when I glance over, he gives me a nod and sly grin.

I look away, the knot in my belly tightening from the conversation he had with me on the drive here about being nicer to our neighbor this year.

“I am sorry.” He tries to straighten up, but something is hurting him and I so badly want to fix it.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No,” he barks. “You should not be sorry. It just…took me by surprise.”

“Well, no more surprises then.” I try to laugh and lighten up the moment but something tells me I may have just caused this mountain of a man to ejaculate in his jeans, and the effect that has on me has me humming down deep inside.

“I like your surprises.” He starts standing straight again and as I fight the urge to look down at his crotch.

I lose, and what I see only solidifies my guess about making him come.

The front of his jeans are stretched to their limit. A long log-sized bulge fills the fabric from the base of his zipper up and across, almost to his opposite hip where I see a growing wet spot forming near the opening of his front pocket.

I don’t know much about sex in actual practice. I know the mechanics of it all. I know what it feels like to be turned on. I’ve even used my pillow, thinking of Dodge the whole time, but what others describe as this earth-shaking wonder of an orgasm has evaded me.

I’ve never even really been kissed. A few boys tried over the years, but I always pulled way. Made excuses, then got out of Dodge.

Because…none of them were Dodge, and he’s the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.

Tags: Dani Wyatt Erotic
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