Page 59 of Pining for Christmas

There are layers of clothing in the way to prevent that. Yes. That’s a good thing, because Reid shouldn’t do anything like that unless he’s awake for it, fully in his right mind.

Still, when he grumbles something in his sleep, the words tickling my ear, and his big palm roams over my belly, slipping beneath my pajama shirt to spread over my bare skin…

I can’t help it. I breathe out a blissful sigh.

And god help me, my ass pushes back instinctively, with no input from my brain. It grinds back against my boss’s cock, urging him on, and Reid growls into my hair then tips us forward. Questing fingers slip beneath my waistband, slide between my legs, and tease along my seam.

Shit.

Well, there goes my great escape.

“Reid,” I moan, so flustered and boneless and overwhelmed. Trying to keep my head even as the man of my dreams cups my pussy and squeezes, his cock rubbing against my ass. “Reid! Wake up. Shit, please wake up.”

One moment, the man behind me is hungry and insistent. His hand delves between my legs like he belongs there, touching me boldly, spreading my wetness around. His cock rubs against me in a dark promise.

The next, my boss freezes, his entire body turning to stone. His fingers go still, pressed against my throbbing clit, and his breath starts to come in panicked bursts against my neck.

“Noelle?” His voice is pure dread.

“It’s okay,” I say quickly, heart breaking for the horror I can feel coming off him in waves. The choking self-loathing. “You haven’t done anything wrong.” I pat his wrist like a weirdo. “But… you should be awake for this.”

There’s a long, tense silence. Reid’s finger twitches against my clit, and I bite back a whimper.

I will not pressure this man.

I will not rub against him like a cat. Not like this. Not now.

But god,I want to.

Want Reid to touch me again. To squeeze my pussy again. Want him to lick my neck and pant in my ear as he yanks my pajama pants down, rolls on top of me, shoves my legs apart and—

“How did we—?”

Frustrated tears brim in my eyes, even as I give a wobbly laugh. “I don’t know, I was asleep too. Does it matter?”

If the ache gets any worse between my legs, I will scream.

But Reid’s breaths are slowing. Getting heavier. Ragged.

His hand tightens on me, cupping my mound once more, and my whole body flushes inferno-hot. “This is okay?” He sounds like he can’t believe it, like it does not compute.

“It’s more than okay.” At this point, I’m beyond playing it cool. “Please, Reid.” My hips roll, grinding me against his hand, and his breath is hot against my neck. Hot and damp. “If you want this too… keep going.”

Silence stretches between us, taut and agonizing.

Then Reid groans and flattens me down once more.

Yes.

Thank god.

His clever hand moves between my legs, slicking and swirling. Rubbing and pinching. His mouth is on my neck, and his cock rubs against my ass, and it’s perfect, so perfect, and I was so afraid he’d snatch this away again.

“You must be boiling in those clothes.” My words are half muffled by the pillow, but Reid huffs in amusement.

“Hotter than the sun.”

“Take them off then, boss. I want you naked. Want your skin on mine.”

---