Page 108 of Noah

I glanced over at him. His brow was drawn. "Of course not. We're together. We do things together. You're my boyfriend, remember? We are going to spend Christmas together."

"You'll be mine for the holidays."

I squeezed his hand. "Always. I'll always be yours." I was about to blurt out my question about making our living accommodation permanent, but the words stuck in my throat.

"My family has dinner on Christmas Day," he said. "You'll come to that, right?"

"Of course. I'm serious. I'm not leaving your side."

The next time I glanced at Brody, the streetlights reflected off tears in his eyes. He sighed and started stimming with the fingers protruding from the cast on his right hand. He had told me the right was his dominant hand for soothing himself but that it made his fractured arm sore.

I wasn't sure what he was nervous about. Christmas Eve at my parents' house?

"I like that you put up a Christmas tree at home," he said.

"The cats love it too." I grinned. "Little bastards."

"All of the animals have taken to you."

"I love them all. Even Garret the Gecko recognizes my voice now."

"You feel good in my bed." Brody took a long deep breath. "Our bed."

My fingers started to tingle.

"I know you have a life apart from me," Brody said. "You have the pub. You have your friends. And you have your own space to go back to."

"Brody—"

"I'll totally understand if the answer is no."

"Brody—"

"In five weeks, my casts will come off, and I just—"

"Brody, stop." I pulled off to the side of the road and turned in my seat. "The answer is yes. Yes, I'll move in with you. Yes, I want to spend my life with you. Every single day of it."

Brody's brow dipped as he looked at me in the dim light. "You're sure?"

"Oh, my god, yes." I cupped his face and kissed him. Something I planned to do for the rest of my days. His lips and everything else about him were mine. "I love you so much. After these past few weeks, I can't imagine living anywhere else. Nowhere else would feel like home."

Brody simply bobbed his head. He was overwhelmed.

We drove in silence after that, both of us likely combing through the details of what this meant in our relationship. And in Brody's mind, the logistics of combining our lives, including all my stuff. Fortunately, I had very little in the way of things I wanted to keep. My mother had designed my apartment for me. Most items in my space held no significance and were expendable.

I liked Brody's townhouse the way it was. Warm and cozy—and filled with love. His furnishings were soft but functional. The shelving in his living room neat and organized. His kitchen streamlined down to the basics needed to cook. Our bedroom comfortable.

Our home.

Once I had him in the bedroom and pressed against the end of the bed, I started with a kiss designed to make his one good leg cave under the intensity of it.

He sat, his fingers threaded through my hair, keeping my lips on his. His mouth was hot and tasted like the beer we'd been drinking. We combined our shared essence. I leaned against him until he fell back on the mattress, then climbed on, straddling him. His cock was hard, constrained by his sweatpants. I ground my jean-covered length against his until we were both groaning.

I released his pink puffy lips. "Let's get you undressed."

Brody grunted his agreement.

I started with his sweatpants, stripping them off his legs. I ran my hands up his thighs and caressed his erection though his underwear. Brody moaned and thrust his hips up. I kneeled on the floor and ran my lips over his shaft and fat balls. I dragged my tongue up his cock then nuzzled my nose deep in his scent. I could live there forever surrounded by his warmth.

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