Page 18 of A Very Fumbling Merry Christmas

All thoughts of our best friends fade into the background as Hunter strips out of his ski gear, standing naked before me as I run my hand back and forth through the bubbles.

“See something you like, Mrs. Vaughn?” It’s a rhetorical question. He knows I want him. It’s written in the lines of my face, in the way I bite down on my lips as my gaze rakes over the length of him—greedy and unabashed.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I can’t contain the smile creeping in at the corner of my lips.

“Then, why are you licking your lips like you’re ready to eat a cock pop?”

I like to tease him, knowing it’s all a game. We know exactly where this is going to go.

“Is that those things you get at Starbucks?”

Amusement dances in his eyes as he slides his hand down his abs before reaching for his cock.

“This isn’t available in a coffee shop, love.” A thrill runs through me, my pulse racing as my breath quickens. I scramble to switch off the faucet while my eyes remain firmly on Hunter.

“I… I…” He has a self-satisfied expression as my brain short-circuits, lost in a haze of desire.

“Cat got your tongue, Faith?”

“No. Cock’s got my tongue.” I pull my sweater up and over my head, dropping it to the floor before quickly pushing my pants over my hips and kicking them off.

I step into the bath, settling in with my arms over the side of the rolltop tub, gesturing for him to come closer. He steps toward me with an easy grace, but the tightly corded muscles of his shoulders betray him. His gaze is fixed on my lips.

“You’ve got a wicked little mouth on you.”

“Then put it to good use.” He moves away from me, stepping into the tub to sit opposite me. “Why aren’t my lips wrapped around your cock right now?” I’m somewhat surprised. It’s not often that Hunter would turn down the chance at a good blow job.

“Plenty of time, love. For now, I just want to soak in the tub with you and enjoy the way your breasts look when they are covered in bubbles. Pretty damn hot.” I cup my breasts, teasing him as I flick my fingers over my nipples.

“They do feel good when they’re hot and wet, ready and waiting for you.” He puts his hand to his mouth, biting his knuckles.

“Holy shit, my wife is hot.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Vaughn. But why are you all the way over there on the other side of the tub when you could be inside me?”

“Because I’m trying to be a good friend, and so I need you to tell me what’s going on with Zoey. Is Coop about to get dumped?”

“I told you, I’m not going to betray Zee’s trust. It’s unfair of you to ask me. Please don’t push me on this because I love you, and I want to share everything with you, but when it comes to their relationship, I think we need to take a step back.”

His hands stroke up and down my calves, the soft lap of the displaced water a soothing balm between us.

“I’m sorry, love. I’m just worried about Coop. He really didn’t seem like himself today, and Zee has been hot and cold with him this whole trip. I’m just trying to have his back. I won’t ask you again.”

Sliding his hand further up my legs, he pulls me toward him, water sloshing over the side of the tub.

“Mr. Vaughn, we need to get ready.” He thrusts two fingers inside me, hitting just the right spot to spark a fire of desire deep in my core.

“We have enough time for this.” He drops his head, his lips sliding over my nipples as he thrusts a third finger inside of me. I give myself over to his kiss and the pleasure his touch brings to every nerve ending in my body.

Fisting my hands in his hair, I pour all of my desire and desperate need for him into this one kiss, losing myself when he withdraws his fingers and positions his cock at my entrance. He slams into me, making me take every last inch until I’m seated to the hilt. Then, he lets me set the pace, riding him as hard and fast as I dare. He looks glorious beneath me, his toned abs disappearing between the water’s surface to where our bodies meet.

There’s something about the way he leans back, spreading his arms out over the rolltop tub. His hair is dripping wet, rivulets of water running down his face, falling to his lips as he bites back a growl of satisfaction. He lets his head fall back, giving me complete control of his body and his pleasure.

“Fuck, Faith.” My name is a whisper on his lips—a melody—a song of worship to the way our bodies come together in perfect harmony.

The faster I buck my hips, the more I lose control, climbing higher and higher until I can’t hold back any longer.

“Hunter, I’m so close. Oh God! Oh God!” The moment the words leave my lips, he wraps his arms around my waist, holding me steady as he takes over, setting a punishing rhythm. As I crash over the edge, he chases his own release, shouting my name as he dives into a spiral of sensation with me. Every fiber of my being is consumed by this man.

We ride out the aftershocks in each other’s arms, the water long gone cold.

I’d love to crawl into bed and get lost in Hunter for the night, but we have a dinner dance to go to. Hunter always gets roped into making public appearances no matter where he goes. Vacation is no different. I know he’d have turned it down, but this is an altogether unorthodox request.

As fate would have it, Hunter’s mom is in Aspen with her new beau. We only have one night of overlap, but she insisted he bring me to meet them. He says that she’s only interested in showing him off to her vapid ski buddies. So, we’re going to the equivalent of a snow- engulfed country club. Apparently, they have a winter ball every year, so it’s dinner, cocktails, and dancing.

Hunter’s mom didn’t come to our wedding. She had some cruise booked well in advance and insisted she couldn’t cancel. He offered to pay any rescheduling costs, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I understand his reticence to be paraded around like a prized bull. In truth, everything she has is because of her son. He takes care of her every need and whim. I’m more than a little nervous to meet my new mother-in-law. I’m sure she read about us in the papers, and #LadyFumble is a whole other reason for me to be concerned.

When we finally pull the plug on the tub and set about getting dressed for the evening, it dawns on me—my Secret Santa gift. I’m supposed to wear it tonight.

Shit, shit, shit!

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