Page 166 of Trying Sophie

“Yeah, it did,” I agreed.

“Since you insisted on no big gifts …” He dangled the small bag by his fingers.

“Your gift is back in my room. I can give it to you when you take me back … or maybe tomorrow?”

We’d agreed to spend Christmas Eve together, but hadn’t said a word about Christmas Day.

“Yeah, I’ll get it tomorrow,” he answered, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw. “Christmas Day with Sophie Newport,” he chuckled wonderingly. “Who would have thought?”

Who would have thought, indeed?

His bringing up our history in this context had me even more excited about his gift than I’d been before. I wasn’t sure I wanted to wait until tomorrow to give it to him.

Rummaging around in my grandparents’ drawers to help them pack, I’d stumbled on a roll of film from when I’d lived with them before. Curious to see what was on it, I’d sent it off to be developed. Even after all these years the film had turned out to be in pretty good shape, with only a handful of the prints showing signs of film degradation. Most of the photos were of random things around the pub, some being extreme close-ups of unidentifiable people or objects, but toward the end of the roll there’d been a couple from the school’s Christmas pageant my first year in Ballycurra.

In the very last one, standing next to each other in the front row were Declan and me. I don’t know when the photo had been snapped, but it captured Declan and I glowering at each other. Well, one of us was glowering at least. Hands shoved confidently in his pockets, he wore a wicked grin on his face while my arms were crossed over my middle and a scowl turned down my lips. It pretty much exemplified those early years between us and now that we were past them, I could laugh. I’d loved the picture so much I’d had it cropped and enlarged into a 5x7 that I’d had framed. All told, I’d spent under $50, which had been the limit I’d given him.

(I’d also gotten him a different present—a pair of red velvet-lined handcuffs—that I planned on giving him the next time I stayed over at his place.)

“I hope you like it,” he said nervously, discreetly slipping a small cylinder from the bag and placing it in his coat pocket before handing me the parcel.

I rifled through snowflake tissue paper to find a small rectangle box at the bottom. Pulling it out, I untied the delicate red bow and dragged the top off, revealing a brass key. Confused, I raised my eyes to Declan. “My own key to your place?”

My stomach fluttered with happy butterflies. I had a toothbrush and some basic toiletries at Declan’s, plus he’d recently cleaned out a drawer for me and made some space in his closet, but a key to his house was a pretty big deal. Obviously I thought we’d get to that point in the not-too-distant future, but I hadn’t wanted to let myself hope for it quite so soon.

“Not just a key, Soph,” he said, clearing his throat. “I know you’re going to look at a few apartments next week, but I want you to move in with me instead.” His gaze held mine as an expectant silence settled over the car and I absorbed his words.

My mind immediately started forming a pros and cons list while my heart begged me to say yes. When my stomach clenched with longing and tears formed at the corner of my eyes, I realized I wasn’t scared to take this next step, but rather was thrilled and happy and jubilant at the idea of living with him.

“Yes!” I said, jumping across the center console and planting a kiss on his lips.

Smack, smack, smack.

He laughed happily and threw his arms around me as I straddled his lap and we engaged in a longer, deeper kiss. When we broke apart, Declan wrapped his hand around the nape of my neck as his eyes flicked between mine for several long seconds. His other hand caressed the rise of my hip and down, blazing a slow, seductive trail along my thigh. With each sweeping pass, he moved closer and closer to the apex of my thighs.

“I can’t wait to have you in my bed every night,” he rumbled as he pulled me in for another kiss and settled his hand between my legs. Massaging me through the fabric of my leggings, he whispered against my lips, “And I can’t wait to wake up to your gorgeous fucking pussy every single morning.”

The feel of his hand rubbing against me paired with his dirty words made me burn for him. My nipples pebbled under my sweater and my sex grew moist when I rocked my hips against his hand, desperate for more friction.

“I want to taste you so bad right now,” he growled, slipping his hand into the waistband of my leggings and then down. “Fuck,” he whispered, when he felt how slick I was with desire.

Slipping two fingers through my folds, he stroked softly and then slid one long finger inside of me. When I groaned and strained for more, he answered by capturing my lips in a clash of lips, teeth, and tongue. A second finger joined the first and with his thumb pressing against my clit, he pumped in and out as I rode his hand with abandon. I cried out with frustration when he slipped his hand from my pants and sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking my juices from them as his heavy-lidded gaze held mine. When he moaned around his fingers, my pussy clenched with want. Watching him savoring the taste of me was dirty and carnal and so fucking sexy.

When his fingers were clean, he reached for the waistband of my pants and tugged. “Pull these down a bit. I need to be inside of you.”

In the confined space of his car, getting my pants and boots completely off would be impossible without some serious acrobatics. Instead, I raised up on my knees and shimmied my leggings down my thighs, thankful for stretchy cotton fabric because there was no way I could have done this in jeans! When I tried to maneuver myself back into his lap, we both realized how difficult sitting astride him was going to be.

“Here, flip around and lean forward for a second,” he said, guiding me so that I faced forward, my chest resting against the steering wheel.

Behind me, I heard the clank of his belt being unbuckled and then the snick of his zipper being lowered. Wrapping a strong arm around my middle, he pulled me back toward him and then settled me in his lap, the seam of my bare ass snuggling against his rock hard cock, which jumped against me when I stopped moving.

Declan had played with my ass before and even though I loved it, he’d never pushed for more. Oh, he’d talked often enough about how much he wanted to fuck me there, but finger play was as far as we’d gone.

Could we now?I wondered, as I rocked my hips against him and felt his body go stiff.

“Sophie,” he warned on a low growl.

Twisting my head over my shoulder, I watched his face as I rolled over him again. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Fuck that feels good,” he bit out and I turned back around and braced my hands on the dash.

---