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Authors: Tara Sivec

The Stocking Was Hung (6 page)

BOOK: The Stocking Was Hung
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“I hope you’re making that bed up for me. There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the floor. Unless of course you’re just throwing those down there for no reason because you’re going to let me sleep next to you. In that case, carry on.”

Mentally reminding myself yet again that I am heartbroken and not on the prowl for a man, I finish laying out the blankets and arranging the pillows then quickly jump on top of the bed. My hands pause in the process of pulling the covers back when I look up and see Sam walk out of the bathroom wearing nothing but the plaid pajama bottoms he took in there. His chest is bare, completely smooth, and looks like it was carved out of stone. I watch him walk around the end of my bed with my mouth hanging open and a little bit of drool dripping down my chin when I see those two little indents down by the waistband of his pants that turns every woman on earth into brainless, panting idiots. Including me. I’m pretty sure I’m panting, and I’m most definitely an idiot. I’ve been rendered dumb by waist indents and a tiny hint of dark, happy trail hair under his belly button that could double as an arrow pointing down to his crotch like one of those giant, blinking signs on the highway announcing road construction.

Warning! Slow Down! Large Package in Pants Ahead! $200 Fine and Possible Loss of All Brain Function if Barrier is Crossed!

“You’re damn right you’re sleeping on the floor. There will be no hanky-panky going on with my parents a few feet down the hall and Aunt Bobbie right next door just waiting to come in here at the first sound of said hanky-panky,” I inform him, my eyes glued to the muscles of his naked back as he bends down and tosses his toiletry bag back inside his duffle.

Getting my head back on track and focusing on sleep instead of large packages in pants that my hands itch to touch, I finish yanking back the covers and climb under them. Unfortunately, I don’t move fast enough and I forgot all about the pajama pants that I grabbed from my bag and threw on while he was in the bathroom.

“Do your pants say
‘After Sex Pants’
?” he asks with a raise of one eyebrow.

I huff, sliding the offending legs wearing the pants deeper under the covers while I fluff my pillows and flop my head back on them in annoyance.

“Yes, yes they do. Remember? I ran out of mine and Logan’s apartment as fast as I could, and I wasn’t really paying attention to the items I grabbed from my dresser. They were a gift from Logan for my birthday. They were meant to be funny,” I tell him, not finding any humor at all in them now.

Or then, really, considering our sex life was nothing to write home about or announce on a pair of pajama pants. Maybe that’s why Sam has me all hot-and-bothered and thinking so many dirty thoughts I could write ten erotic novels about just that kiss we shared downstairs. I’ve been sex-starved since the first time Logan and I did the deed and he finished long before my orgasm was even on the horizon and I faked it just so he wouldn’t feel bad. Which pretty much set the stage for every time we had sex after that. One little moan of pleasure from me and he took it as his cue that I was good to go and he could quickly finish, roll over, and go to sleep.

“You know, they wouldn’t be so funny if you let me get in that bed with you,” Sam drawls, his southern twang more pronounced I realize when he’s trying to butter me up with sexual innuendoes. “We could turn them into reality if you like, just say the word.”

The word, the word, the word!

My brain and my vagina scream in unison, but I keep my lips tightly closed. There is no way I’m having sex in my parent’s house with a guy I just met, regardless of how damn hot he is or the fact that he came home with me as a favor and has to put up with my nut job family for the next few days.

I will not have sex with Sam, I will not have sex with Sam…

My silence makes him shrug and I watch as he gets down on the floor between my bed and the wall, settling himself on top of the blanket and sliding his hands behind his head while his eyes never leave mine.

I will not have sex with Sam TONIGHT, I will not have sex with Sam TONIGHT…

“Shit, I should have turned off the light,” Sam mutters, his eyes moving to the fixture in the ceiling directly above my bed.

“Don’t worry, I got it,” I tell him, clapping my hands together twice.

The overhead light immediately distinguishes and instead of plunging us into darkness, a small tree my mother put in the corner of the room turns on at the same time, filling the space with the soft glow of multicolored twinkling lights.

“Your parents installed
The Clapper
in your room?” Sam asks from the floor with a laugh.

“My parents hung a bundle of pot leaves from the archway in lieu of mistletoe. You really shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point,” I remind him.

Turning onto my side, I slide my hands under my chin and stare down at him, his eyes sparkling from the lights of the Christmas tree.

“Goodnight, Sam,” I tell him softly. “Thanks for coming home with me and putting up with my family.”

He rolls over on his side to face me as well, his hands sliding under his pillows and his cheek resting on the fluffy pile while he looks up at me.

“Thanks for inviting me, Noel. I promise I’ll do a better job of being your boyfriend tomorrow, now that the shock of your family has worn off,” he replies in a low voice.

I force my eyes closed instead of continuing to stare at his handsome features, something I know I could do all night long and something I know would eventually have me begging him to come up into this bed with me. His words about being a better boyfriend echo through my mind as I drift off to sleep, visions of just how he plans on
being
a better boyfriend taking over my dreams instead of dancing sugar plums.

Chapter 6

Sam

H
er warm, wet
lips wrap around my cock, her eyes glancing up at me through heavy lids as she takes me into her mouth. I groan heavily when her soft hands cup my balls as her mouth works its way up and down my dick like it’s her mother fucking job. I knew the moment I kissed Noel that her mouth could double as a weapon of mass destruction, and if all of the blood in my body was still in my head instead of my dick, I’d tell her that. She gently massages my balls, her tongue circling around the head of my cock, and I know I’m not going to last long, an apology on the tip of my tongue that I promise to make it up to her as soon as this orgasm gets out of my system after being pent up for eighteen months.

Sure, I had plenty of orgasms over the last year and a half, but doing them with your own hand is a hell of a lot different than having it down with a mouth as sweet as Noel’s.

“Sam.”

Her voice flutters through my conscious and I realize her mouth has moved away from my cock.

“Sam,” she says again, a little louder this time.

I try not to curse and beg for her to put her mouth back where it was, but it’s a little hard. Scratch that, it’s really fucking hard and I really fucking want to come.

“SAM! Wake the fuck up!”

My eyes fly open and I jerk up, blinking my eyes rapidly while trying to figure out where the hell I am and why my dick is hard enough to cut through all the icicles hanging from the window outside right above me.

I hear loud knocking followed by a chipper voice.

“Hello?! Are you kids awake? I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in!”

Noel. Aunt Bobbie. Noel’s parents. Home for Christmas. SHIT!

Before I can fully process where I am and what’s happening, the woman I was just having the hottest dream ever about quickly rolls to the edge of the bed, grabs my arm and yanks me up toward her.

Yep, time to wake the fuck up and move my ass. Noel’s “boyfriend” probably shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor instead of in bed with her.

“Hurry up! Get in bed before she gets in here!” Noel whispers frantically while I scramble up from the floor, getting tangled in the blankets while my arms flail and I fall on top of her. Or should I say, face first right between her blanket covered legs.

“I brought muffins and coffee!” Noel’s mother announces happily as she throws open the door and I hear it bang against the opposite wall since I didn’t have time to remove my face from the warmth of Noel’s crotch.

“Oh, my God! I’m closing my eyes, I’m closing my eyes!” she shouts, my head finally lifting slightly to see the woman standing in the doorway in a fluffy pink bathrobe, curlers in her hair, one hand covering her eyes, and the other hand holding a tray of what looks to be blueberry muffins and two cups of steaming coffee.

“I’m so glad my daughter found someone so adventurous, Logan,” Noel’s mother announces as she keeps one hand over her eyes and shuffles blindly into the room, setting the tray down on top of the dresser. “Reggie doesn’t believe in oral before breakfast.”

“Jesus, Mom!” Noel complains as I roll to my side, still between her legs because…well, because it’s warm and cozy, and maybe if I stay here long enough, she’ll forget about that whole no hanky-panky thing. After her mother leaves, of course.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Leon,” her mother scoffs, hand still over her eyes as she now walks backward to the open door. “You should be happy your father and I still have such an active sex life. Thank God for his medical marijuana prescription. I was getting a little bored with always being on top because of the arthritis in his hips. He’s much more agile when he’s high.”

It’s a wonder I still have a dick at this point and it hasn’t detached itself from my body, scurrying away in horror.

“I’m going to remove my hand from my eyes now.”

“Mom, we have clothes on, it’s fine,” Noel says with a huff as her mother slowly lowers her hand.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” she mutters, shoving her hands into the pockets of her bathrobe and walking quickly toward the bed.

“Open up,” she demands.

I glance at Noel and she shrugs, just as confused as I am.

“Come on, I don’t have all day. Your brother will be here soon and I need to finish getting dressed. Open up.”

Noel rolls her eyes and opens her mouth, forcing me to do the same before something even worse happens like Bev getting into bed with us asking if she can watch.

Faster than I can blink, her mother pulls a candy cane out of her pocket, quickly unwraps it and breaks off two pieces, shoving one into each of our open mouths.

“No one likes morning breath. We’ll be leaving the house in exactly one hour so make sure your morning nookie doesn’t take too long. See you downstairs!”

With that, she turns and exits the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

I slam my mouth closed and start chewing on the candy cane, rolling back over between Noel’s legs and scooting upwards to place my hands on either side of her body and hold myself over her. Her head falls back on the pillow when I move and her eyes widen when my hips press between the heat of her thighs.

“Do you really have morning wood right now? After
that
shit show?” Noel asks in astonishment as she munches her own piece of peppermint candy.

“It’s a fucking phenomenon,” I tell her, swallowing the last of my candy cane. “I don’t know what’s happening or how long it will last, so just go with it.”

I push my hips forward again, letting her feel how hard I am and wishing these fucking blankets weren’t between us. Our faces are so close I can feel her warm, peppermint breath against my lips as she sighs softly when I move between her legs again. I don’t want to take advantage of her, I don’t want her to feel like she has to do anything with me as some sort of payment for the favor I’m doing for her by being here, pretending to be her boyfriend, but I need her to know how much I want her. How much I haven’t been able to stop think about being inside of her, touching her naked skin, and hearing her moan my name, even in my dreams.

“Just say the word, Noel,” I whisper, keeping my elbows locked as I hold myself over her body and stare into her eyes.

I wait for her to push me away. To tell me nothing is going to happen in her parent’s house, because it’s what she
should
do. It’s what any normal person would do. I should be ashamed of myself that my dick is still hard, still wants her, still hopes she’ll give in and let me have just a little taste of her, but I’m not. I want to say I’d feel like this with any woman after going without sex for a year and a half, but it would be a lie. It’s Noel. It’s
all
Noel. Her smile, her laugh, her smell, her skin…I need
her
. Just her. I realize how crazy that sounds when we haven’t even known each other for twenty-four hours, but I don’t give a fuck. This woman has turned me inside out in less than a day and I just. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.

Holding my breath, I wait for the words to whisper from her mouth about how we barely know each other, she just broke up with her dumb shit boyfriend, and she has too much going on right now to get messed up with some guy she barely knows. I wait, but the words never come. Right when I prepare myself to roll off of her and take a very cold shower, with a very quick yank of my wank, she wiggles her hips, kicks her legs and uses her feet to push the blanket separating us down to the end of the bed. I help her by lifting my hips so she can kick the blankets away before settling back down between her thighs and bending my elbows until my bare chest is against hers.

BOOK: The Stocking Was Hung
13.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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