Page 19 of A Very Fumbling Merry Christmas

Chapter 7

HUNTER

I could thinkof five things I’d rather be doing tonight. Shoving a hot poker in my eye makes it onto the list. My mom is a formidable woman now that she has my money to fund her every want and need. I don’t even want to think of the millions of dollars she has wasted on frivolous, useless crap. I never realized how materialistic she is until money became of no concern.

It’s hard to be a vapid, materialistic shrew when you don’t have two dimes to rub together. That was the story of my childhood. She worked two jobs to keep the crappy roof over our heads, but the second I made it big, her personality changed. I’m her red rosette pony to trot out whenever the mood strikes her. There’s a reason I haven’t introduced her to Faith yet, and it has nothing to do with Faith.

My mother is going to look down her nose at Faith because of everything she’s read in the media. I know her. She doesn’t wait for the facts or give anyone the benefit of the doubt. I guarantee she’s already made her mind up about my wife. If I had known she was going to be here, I’d have booked a vacation for literally anywhere else on the planet.

The saving grace of tonight is that Coop came along on this trip. My mother loves him, and he can handle her embarrassingly shameless flirting. I’m not sure Zoey will be too thrilled, but I’m going to need her to suck it up for one night. Coop is going to be Faith’s human shield. I don’t even need to mention it to him. The second he hears my mom is in town, he gives me a look that tells me we’re on the same page.

When we arrive at the venue, it’s all flashy cars and valets scrambling for tips. I had gowns and suits delivered to our lodge today as this shindig is black tie. Funnily enough, I didn’t anticipate going to some stuffy charity ball while we were on vacation, so alas, I didn’t pack a tuxedo in my penis pump suitcase. Fuck. I can just imagine the tongue lashing I’m going to get for ‘embarrassing her’ with my antics.

Faith looks stunning tonight in a silver ballgown—perfect for a winter princess. Her hair cascades down her back in a waterfall of soft waves. I can’t take my eyes off of her as she steps out of the car. She gives me a sly wink when I look down and catch a glimpse of her shoes—she’s wearing a pair of Tiffany blue Chucks.

“Wise choice, love. I’d rather we not end up at the hospital. I plan to sweep you across the dance floor tonight in this dress. You look incredible. Like Cinderella.”

“Good luck getting close enough to me to dance. There are about four thousand layers of tule in this thing.”

“You don’t like it? You should’ve told me. I’d have gotten something else delivered.” She reaches out to take my hand as we head inside.

“I love it. Stop worrying.” I’m not completely convinced as her tone seems a little reticent.

“You seem on edge. Are you okay?”

“Just nervous about meeting your mom. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Faith, I don’t want you concerning yourself with anything my mother has to say. She’s an insipid hypocrite. Let’s just get through the small talk and then enjoy the rest of our night. There’s food, alcohol, dancing, and our friends are with us.” Faith’s gaze travels to our friends, who seem deep in conversation as we find our way to the ballroom.

“They seem happy, right?”

“I’m not sure, but they definitely sounded happy before we left the lodge. Your friend screams like a banshee when she comes. How did you ever sleep when you were roommates?”

“She wasn’t in a constant state of orgasm. And the answer is earplugs, really good-quality earplugs.”

“I feel weird that I know what your best friend sounds like when she comes. We need separate lodgings next time.”

“Why?” she says with mischief in her eyes. “Did it turn you on?”

“No. I don’t see your friend that way.” I’m flustered to say the least. I didn’t expect her to ask me that.

“I know, but it was kind of hot hearing them. It felt kind of naughty to overhear such a passionate outcry, don’t you think?” Is this a trap? Is she trying to trip me up here? My only defense is offense.

“Did it make you wet, love?” I pull her into my arms, my lips mere almost touching hers. “You like hearing your friend screaming in ecstasy?” Her breath catches, the rise and fall of her chest quickening, her breasts heaving against the hard lines of my torso.

“I…”

“Tell me, Faith. Say it.”

“Yes. It turned me on.”

“Why?” I guide her onto the dance floor, leaving Coop and Zee to find our table. “I want to know what was going through your mind, Faith. What were you thinking when you heard her come?” God, Faith’s body is coiled and ready, craving my touch.

“I thought about how beautiful she must look, naked and lost to the throes of passion. How full and perfect her breasts must be.”

“Keep going,” I whisper in her ear. I’m struggling to compose myself as she writhes more than she sways to the music.

“I wondered what she tastes like. If she’s sweet like honey… if she tastes like me.”

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