Page 73 of The Hookup Situation

“Show me,” I say, and his hand comes down on my ass, the sting so damn good I’m begging for more as I whimper into the pillow. He brings his hand down on my other cheek and the thwack resounds throughout the room. I’m fully aware my brother is probably hearing this across the hall, and maybe even my parents downstairs, but I’m so fucking desperate for him, I don’t care. I need this.

“Shit, don’t stop,” I whine as his hand comes down on me again and again. “Please, Jax. I need more.”

He nuzzles my ass crack and then presses more kisses to my cheeks as I squirm. Then he’s hitting me again, and thesespankings are even more delicious than the last. Every single one makes my skin sing with pleasure, my dick throbbing as it leaks onto the sheets and tears slide down my cheeks.

“Shit, baby, you look so good,” he rasps. “My handprints all over this incredible ass. Tell me you're mine, beautiful.” He sucks and nibbles on my ass again before he spanks me hard.

“Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes, I’m yours, Jax. I’m all yours. Only yours.”

He spanks me again, and again. “God, I need to come,” I cry, my body shaking.

“Do it,” he says. “Come hard for me, baby.”

He spanks me two more times before I’m crying out, my dick pulsing untouched as I spray my release.

He shoves me to my stomach. “Don’t move,” he orders, and then I hear him jerking himself off. Only seconds later I feel the warmth of his release on my backside, and then he’s collapsing on top of me once again, and we’re panting and shaking with the aftershocks of our orgasms.

I turn my head and his lips meet mine, before he’s rolling off of me. We use the wipes in the nightstand to clean ourselves off, and toss them in the trash can by the bed, before he’s curling into me, and my arms come around him.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, a smile on his face that warms my heart.

“Merry Christmas, Tinkerbell,” I say, nuzzling his nose with mine.

“Thanks for that, guys!” Paris shouts from across the hall. “I needed something to talk about at my next therapy session!”

We can’t stop laughing.

When I wake up the next morning with Jackson in my arms I wonder if I’m dreaming, because how can Christmas morning be this perfect? But when he shoves his ass back against my hard on and then grips my hand and kisses my fingers, I know it’s real.

“Morning,” he murmurs in that deep voice that’s even more sexy when he’s just woken.

“Morning,” I reply.

“Think we have time for another round?” He grins at me as he rolls over.

“I think Paris is scarred enough, and I think he’d never forgive us if we made him wait to open presents.”

Jackson chuckles and kisses me. When he pulls back he rests his forehead against mine. “Your parents won’t kill me for breaking their son’s heart, will they?”

“They’ll forgive you just like I did,” I assure him, then press another kiss to his addictive lips.

“I really like your family,” he says, and I have a feeling that’s hard for him to admit. “I don’t think you’ll ever know what it meant for me to be here for Thanksgiving with you guys. I’d never had that before. Any of it. All those things that maybe felt small, they were huge to me. The outings, the games, the cookie baking, even the banter. I just soaked it up, because I knew how much I was going to miss it.”

“You don’t have to miss it anymore,” I say, and he smiles.

We climb out of bed and dress. I put my discarded pajamas back on and Jackson slips into the sexy purple panties that he came in here in. I slide my arms around him and pull him close, and he chuckles as I kiss him, my hand sliding down to cup his ass under the lace material. God, the contrast of his naked skinagainst my palm and the lacy panties on the back of my hand is incredible, and my cock jerks.

“You’re so predictable,” he whispers against my lips. “My panty slut.”

“You know it,” I say, then kiss him again, and squeeze his ass one more time before letting him go.

“Do you have pjs I can wear?” he asks, blushing. “I left my suitcase in the car.”

I grin and toss him a pair. They’re too big on his slender frame, but he manages, and looks adorable doing it. I love seeing him in my clothes.

I kiss him and take his hand, and we head down the stairs, greeted by the Christmas music playing through the speakers and the scent of Mom’s cinnamon rolls coming from the kitchen. There’s a fire roaring in the wood burning stove and Dad is sitting in his chair while Paris sets the table. The tree looks gorgeous in the early morning light, presents set out underneath it.

Ginger rises from her bed and saunters over to us, sniffing Jackson and wagging her tail. He smiles and bends down to pet her. “Hey, girl, I missed you.”

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