Page 21 of A Very Fumbling Merry Christmas

“Cooper!” She leaves me hanging, brushing past Faith to get to her beloved Coop. “You look simply edible as usual. It’s not fair that you keep getting more handsome, and I keep getting older.”

Coop flips the switch and gives her a winning smile. “Georgia. You look ravishing as always. I don’t believe that you’ve aged a single day since the last time I saw you.” It makes me cringe to see my mom pawing at him, throwing her head back with an insipid laugh. Zee looks as pissed off as I feel.

I guess it’s now or never.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet my wife, Faith.”

Faith stands from the table but quickly grabs hold of the edge, almost doubling over. I can’t tell if she’s in pain or—fuck—she sounds the way she does when I’m about to get her off. My mom eyes her with disdain.

“Hell-wow, Mrs. Vaughn. Please excuse me for a moment. I need to use the restroom. Oh!” Her body jerks, and she accidentally pulls the tablecloth, sending cutlery, drinks, and the centerpiece crashing to the floor. My mom looks horrified, but Faith attempts to recover her introduction. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. Hunter has told me all about you.”

“All terrible, I’m sure.” She reluctantly accepts Faith’s proffered handshake.

“Not at all.” My mom knows it’s a lie. We don’t exactly hide our dislike of each other. I love her—she’s my mother—but loving family doesn’t necessarily come with an obligation to like them. My mom and I definitely fall into that category.

“Sweet of you to lie, dear. I see your hashtags do, in fact, do you justice.” She looks around at the carnage all over the floor. Hundreds of dollars in booze alone, spilled down the front of Faith’s dress.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry.”

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to my side as if I can somehow shield her from my mother’s judgment, not that I give a shit what my mom thinks of Faith and me. I know it will mean something to Faith. She wants people to be accepting of us, especially after what happened with her folks.

“Don’t worry about it, love. The waiters are already on their way to clean this up and reset the table. It’s no big deal. And I can have another dress here for you in twenty minutes. Do you want the same one?”

“Sure. I’m just going to go to the restroom to get the worst off of this and hide in shame.”

“It could happen to anyone.” I can’t keep a straight face as I try to reassure her. She knows as well as I do that no one is more prone to fumbling mayhem than her. There’s a reason for that. Anyone clumsier than her hasn’t survived to adulthood. She’s like those people who make the record books for the most ridiculous way to die in freak accidents, and yet she’s still living and breathing.

“Liar. But I l-o-o-ove you!” Her breath is short and sharp as she clings to my arms. If my hands were elsewhere on her body right now, I’d think she was having… holy shit!

“Faith, are you… tell me that you’re not doing what I think you’re doing right now in a room full of people.” She pulls me into her arms, her nails digging into my back as her body begins to shake. She bites down on her lip and lets a low moan escape her.

“Hunter. Secret Santa.” She can barely get the words out as my mom stands in gaping horror. “Underwear.” Jesus Christ, her nails scratch my neck as she struggles to keep any kind of decorum in this moment. “Vibrating. Get the remote.”

Holy fuck. She’s about to have an orgasm in front of a room full of people. I’m going to kill whichever one of them bought this. Her pleasure is mine. It isn’t for anyone else to see or influence with a fucking remote.

I lean in and whisper in Faith’s ear. “Fake fainting. I’ll catch you.” Without hesitation, she gives an Oscar-winning performance, allowing me to sweep her up into my arms and make a fuss about taking her to a private room to give her a few minutes to check she’s okay. Before I leave the table, I turn to Coop and Zee, my distaste evident in the furrow of my brow and the low growl aimed in their direction.

“Hand it over. Whichever one of you fools has the remote, shut it the fuck off.” They both drop their gaze to the floor. “Where is it?” Neither of them look up. They are in on this together. I can’t fault them for that because Faith and I have done the same thing, but I’m really pissed off right now. My wife is writhing in my arms, still being bombarded with the vibrations coursing through her body.

“Hunter. Get me out of here, now. I can’t hold off much longer.”

“I’ve got you, love.”

“I’m going to be back here in an hour, and you jokers better watch out.” They are stifling their laughter—not at Faith—at me. They can laugh it up, but stealing an orgasm from my wife is going to cost them in this wager.

I follow the waiter to a private room with Faith cradled in my arms, my mom muttering something about me being a colossal embarrassment, but I really don’t give a fuck right now.

When the door closes behind us, I set her down and lock the door.

“Did I hear you right, you’re wearing vibrating underwear?”

“Yes. Oh God, it’s doing it again. Holy crap.” She stumbles over to a couch, trying to quell the overwhelming sensation. She can’t even get to the underwear through all the layers of her dress.

“Lay back, love. I’ll get them off, and then I’m getting you off.” I unbutton my tux jacket and shrug out of it. It’s too constricting to be able to forage through the tulle. I drop to my knees in front of her, reaching for layer after layer of her dress, trying to find her legs. I’m cursing my dress choice for her in this moment. How could she even stand to be in this? It’s like a fucking sauna wading through all this material.

Faith whimpers as her underwear continues to vibrate. God, I’m hard as a rock hearing her moan. I pull off my bowtie and loosen the top button of my shirt. When I finally catch hold of her left leg, I follow the trail, my hand caressing her calf and up the inside of her thigh. I can hear the buzzing noise, but as my fingers trace a line over to the sides of her underwear—lace—I get distracted by how fucking hot my wife looks in this scrap of vibrating lace.

“Oh God, Hunter… I have to come! Oh fuck!” I’m not about to leave her unsatisfied. Instead of divesting her of the offending panties, I pull them to the side, just enough to thrust two fingers inside her. She’s fucking soaked, her arousal intoxicating my senses as I push the mini vibrator against her clit.

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