Page 132 of The Puck Stops Here

‘Fuck, Blake. I need you.’ She clawed at his back, his ass, gripped him tight against her.

He tore his mouth away to look into her eyes, worshipping the rising heat in her cheeks, her panting breaths telling him she was close. So close. He hadn’t indulged in a crazed dry-humping session since his teens and now he wondered why the hell not. It was hot as fuck.

He pressed a palm into the door above her head, supported her rolling ass with his other and rocked his hips. ‘Take what you need, baby… that’s it. Come for me.’

Her eyes flared on his command, her head hitting the door as she arched back and bit her lip, trapping the whimpers that were driving him to the edge.

‘Oh my God!’ she blurted. ‘Oh my God!’

He swallowed her cries with a kiss, smothered them as her orgasm claimed her. She shook and shuddered and his cock strained, the rush of his release coming. He held her gaze?—

‘Blake! Come on, bro!’

He froze. She froze.

Two footsteps on the stairs…

‘The custard’s gaining a skin!’

‘Just a minute!’ he called out.

‘Oh God!’ she exclaimed in horror now. ‘I can’t ruin another pot.’

He grinned down at her, his smile all for her but his shout for Aiden. ‘We’re on our way!’

‘But you can’t go. Not…’ She eyed his erection jutting between them and covered her mouth.

‘As much as I’d love to take care of it right now…’ He eased back, setting her carefully on her feet. ‘We have custard to eat.’

‘You can’t walk in there likethat.’

He strode across the room and pulled open the middle drawer on the dresser, tugged out a sweater. ‘I always knew this festive monstrosity would come in handy.’

‘Monstrosity?’

He pulled it over his head and turned.

‘Oh my,’ she murmured, righting her bra. ‘Why is it…?’

‘Why is it so big?’

She nodded, her eyes watering with laughter as the garish wool settled somewhere just above his knees.

‘Mom got the dimensions on the reindeer wrong and insisted on making sure his legs were in proportion with the rest of him.’

He pulled another sweater from the drawer and tossed it to her.

‘And his nose?’

‘Damned if I know. Best not ask her though, she’s a bit sensitive about her knitting disasters.’

She pulled the sweater on. ‘Won’t she think it’s strange you’re wearing it now?’

‘She’ll put it down to me being too caught up in you to care.’

She stilled as his words settled in the air between them, the sweater halfway down her body. She wet her lips, a mask steadily slipping into place with the clothing.

‘It’s what Aiden already thinks I am.’ She could mask her feelings all she liked, he was done hiding from his. ‘So why not her too?’

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