Page 31 of Merry Little Mishap

“Fuck!” I thought I was peeing for a second, ignoring how Mrs. Caporali knocked above us again, asking a question I couldn’t even pay attention to. I didn’t care if she heard, or if she knew who was in here, because I was coming harder than I ever knew possible.

“Baby, I’m going to… oh, shit—” Nick exhaled loudly, his toes curling beneath me as I heard hot wet drops of cum fall out of my ass.

“Come in me, come in me,” I begged as Nick leaned onto my back, squeezing my breasts, draining everything he had into my ass, hot semen seeping over the entirety of my insides. He hugged me tighter than the belt, tighter than how his fingers felt inside me.

“Let me keep you… let me have you.” Nick panted, kissing my upper back and neck, his sweat dripping onto my shoulders. His erection fell out of me, his orgasm spilling over my thigh and onto my heels. So much of him poured out from how hard he gave it to me. “God, Elena… I’ve waited for you for so long.”

“And I’ve waited for you… ever since I first saw you. It’s been the longest year, but the best one too… at least… now it is.” I leaned the back of my head against his hard chest, savoring each kiss he gave, each needy touch he delivered, his hand clawing at my stomach for an embrace. I didn’t think he’d ever let me go, and honestly, it made me want to cry with joy.

“Whoever is in there, don’t worry! I’m getting help!”Mrs. Caporali called from above, her feet shuffling away. I tried not to laugh, unsure of how much she heard, or what would even happen if the door were to suddenly open. Nick and I were completely nude, and in no desire to hurry. I wasn't sure if either of us cared to be caught, taking our time to kiss, to face each other, to snuggle.

“I give us about twenty minutes until the fire department shows up… but I’ll have us out in no time.”

“In no time? ForgetTwelve Days of Sex-Mas,I’m ready to writeTwelve Reasons Nick Stafford is the Perfect Christmas Gift Ever!I’m not sure I’m ready to leave, yet.”

Nick smiled. “Well, I can’t have you sleeping on the floor here… and if you think for a second I’m letting you go home alone tonight, you’re crazy.”

“And where are you stealing me away to, Superintendent Stafford?” I joked, tracing a patch of his chest hair with the tip of my finger.

Nick thought for a second, grinning with the most handsome dimple on his cheek. “Hmm… well, if I’m stealing you, then I’m keeping you at my place.”

“You stealing me or selling me on a new apartment?”

“Convincing you…” He kissed me again, affirming my answer that was already written on my face. “One bed, one home… no leaky faucets, no more lost mail.”

“Think of it like a festival, but indoors.” I fluffed up a row of bright redpascuaflowers, keeping them away from Marty. He sniffed around, his tail beating against my leg in excitement.

“Festival?” Nick shouted from the kitchen, kneeing the oven door shut, “This place is big, but that’s by New York standards.”

“It’s big enough.”

“For fourteen people?”

“Fourteen?”

“Yes, isn’t that how many people are coming?”

“Mamí, Papí, tío Julio, tía Sylvia, Danny, Mateo, Sofia, Valerie and her three kids—Adrian, Luis, Carmen…” I lost count, using my thumbs and fingers to keep track. “Some cousins?” I asked Nick, my personal living, breathing, memory bank. I moved thepascuasfrom the windowsill over to the brick wall and bookshelves, shoving an unhung Picasso print to the side.

“Ramon, Paco, and Mateo.”

“I already said Mateo.”

“Aren’t there two of ‘em?” Nick questioned, untying his apron, placing it on a hook next to the hanging pans.

I was struggling to put the flowers on the top shelf, standing on my tippy toes as I reached up. “That’s right! Yes… one is a priest… never leaves home without his collar, always insists on saying grace. The other is the shortest of the entire family.”

“Shorter than you?” Nick asked the back of my neck, lickingdulcesauce off his thumb. I fell into his chest as he took the flowers, easily placing them on the shelf. I huffed a curl out of my face.

“Muchshorter than me, but try not to stare… he’s so self-conscious of his height… that and his nut allergy… wait—nuts!” I squeaked, flipping around, “Nick, I sprinkled pecans on the tres leches cake!” I pushed him aside, swooping a pile of garland off the coffee table that still needed to be hung. “If a single nut even touches his lips, he’ll explode.”

“Explode? Sounds dangerous.”

“Deadly dangerous.”

“Should I warn the neighbors?”

“Nick!” I tossed garland over a steel beam, covering its industrial facade with a more forgiving green touch. “I saw him touch a cashew once…TOUCH… and his thumb ballooned into John Goodman.”

---