Page 32 of Texting My Secret Santa

I decide to prank her.

I’ll go into her en suite and do the whole flush-the-chain trick, turning her deliciously hot shower water ice-cold.

I grin. Yeah. This could be how we turn everything back to normal again. Pushing her bedroom door open, I move across the room, then the en suite, ensuring my back is to the shower as I approach the toilet. The last thing I need is to see her naked. That would seriously break any resolve I’ve got.

This is about fun, not lust. Sidestepping across the bathroom, I lay my hand on the toilet handle. Before I press it, the shower stops.

I missed my chance, dammit. I better get out of here before she accuses me of being a peeper.

“Asher?”

This is bad. The smile vanishes from my face.

“I was going to flush the toilet when you were in the shower,” I tell her.

“Relax. I know you’re not a Peeping Tom.”

“Seems like I missed my chance. If you let me crabwalk my way out of here, I’m happy to pretend this never happened if you are.”

“But aren’t you tempted to look?”

My dick hardens, my lust burning, my seed swelling in my balls like it’s trying to get me to take an insane risk. Dan could come home at any moment. He probably won’t make a beeline for his sister’s bathroom, but it’s still wrong.

“Why would you ask me that?” I snap.

“Because I’m genuinely curious.”

“You know the answer.”

Her voice is breathy, moaning. She sounds as horny as I am. My gym shorts do little to conceal how excited she’s making me. If I turn around and see her perfect, curvy, naked body, I’ll lose it, and she’ll know about it.

“I don’t. That’s why I asked,” she says sweetly.

“I’m more than tempted,” I tell her. “There’s nothing I want more than to turn around and see you naked. Your big, luscious breasts, your thick, juicy legs, your nipples, your core, all of you dripping wet. Your messy hair, your confident, sassy expression. I’m getting hot just thinking about it, butyoutold me we had to pretend the kiss never happened.”

“Then leave,” she murmurs, “but I want you to know, if you looked, I wouldn’t be mad. So if you leave, you’re making the choice not to see me naked.”

“Are we going to pretend this never happened, too?”

“Yes, I think so, but it’s so hot, knowing how badly you want me. You’re shaking, Asher.”

“That’s because I’m using every shred of willpower I’ve got not to turn around,” I growl.

“How’s that going for you?”

I turn, knowing it’s wrong, knowing I might regret it.

When I see her, regret is the furthest thing from my mind. Her eyes are wide open, wild, and manic as if something’s possessed her. Droplets of water slide from her face, down her neck, over her round mounds, clinging to her tender peaks. Her hips show her juiciness—her legs, her pussy.

“Fucking hell,” I growl. “You’re driving me insane. Why did you let me see you? Fuck. I’m going to explode just looking at you, Holly.”

“This is wrong,” she murmurs.

“I know.”

That doesn’t stop me from walking toward her, my hands trembling as I reach out and slide my fingers over her hips. She gasps and sinks against me, wrapping her arms around me. Her naked body presses against my sweatiness. I groan as I find her lips.

Her moans make me wild as I slide my hands from her hips to her thick ass. I massage her nakedness, then take one hand and bring it to her core. Her haven is wet, not just from the shower. She rubs against me, grinding her lips, her clit, her lust.

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