Page 2 of A Very Armitage Christmas
But I’d never seen anything so fucking gorgeous.
And okay, my clotheswereseductive on him. Because wearing my clothes, and lying in my bed, he couldn’t possibly have been more mine. And I’d never thought I’d have him. He’d had a thing with my now-deceased cousin, and that had only been the icing on the Nate-hates-Ian cake.
I’d changed his mind eventually.
Two strides and a leap, and I landed on top of him, catching most of my weight on my hands on either side of his head and making the bed thump and creak. A snapping sound followed after a second, vibrating through the mattress.
“Damn it, Ian,” Nate said through his laughter, his hands coming up to brace against my shoulders. “We can’t afford a new bed.”
“Return the inflatable Santa.” God, I hoped he returned the inflatable Santa. That fat red-suited bastard had taken me at least forty-five minutes, and he was still tipping to one side like a drunkard. Fixing it would be on my to-do list for the morning, I just knew it.
“Not a chance. If it makes you feel better, I had you put it up in the back so that it’s right outside Matthew and Arik’s window, and Arik can see it first thing when he gets up every morning until New Year’s.”
Ah, Arik. My brother Matt’s mate, necromancer, slippery fucker, and of all things, acat.
That did make me feel a lot better.
“Can you magic it up so it flips him off with both hands?”
Nate slid his hands over my chest and around my back, stroking with his fingertips and making me shiver. He grinned at me. “Sometimes your ideas aren’t all bad, you know that? Sometimes. Rarely. I can probably make that happen.”
Nate told me he loved me sometimes, though he didn’t say it all that often. He’d apologized for the way he used to call me all kinds of names, and insult me, and tell me I was an idiot.
But he still teased me enough that I wondered which was true. He could love me but still kind of, like, tolerate me at the same time, right? You didn’t have to think someone was perfect to love them. And I hid it, but it still stung.
Because I thought he was perfect, no matter what faults he might objectively have.
And it also made me wonder what to believe, even after nine months of having Nate as my mate.
I had one ace up my sleeve, though — one way to even the playing field, even though Nate was almost always a step ahead of me.
I lowered myself down, letting the head of my cock nudge between his legs, pushing behind his balls and showing him what was coming next. Nate tipped his head back and moaned, parting his thighs and giving me more room to work. His cock rose, tenting the front of my stolen boxers, which sat loose enough on him to give it plenty of room.
His hands flailed over my shoulder blades.
Right. I’d promised to tie him up, and I liked to keep my promises.
“Hold still,” I said in his ear, and licked a stripe up his neck. “I’m going to get some rope.”
Nate did go still under me, but not in theI’m obeying your orders, alphasexy kind of way. I left his neck alone so I could take a look at his face. He was biting his lip, looking guilty. Guilty?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m — I trust you. Just. It sounded fun earlier. But I’m still not really — it kind of freaks me out.”
Oh. Right. I got that.
Thinking about the way we’d both almost died when his insane father came back from the not-dead-enough to try to steal Nate’s magic for himself kind of freaked me out, too. And Nate — fuck, I never wanted him to be that scared again. He’d almost died a second time, when Arik’s past had come calling, but I was the one who’d been scared shitless that time. That had honestly been worse, but for Nate, nothing compared to that night we’d spent in the Kimball pack’s barn being tortured and evilly monologued at by the worst parent a warlock could have.
My claws through Jonathan Hawthorne’s spine had felt pretty fucking good, not gonna lie. Not for him, obviously.
“Okay,” I said, nudging Nate’s nose with mine and kissing his cheek. “No rope.”
“You can hold me down, if you want,” Nate said. “You know, if it’s not too much trouble?”
“How’s that better than rope?”
“Even when I close my eyes, I know it’s you.”
That made my heart give an embarrassing, girly little quiver, and I covered it by growling, “Oh, you’ll know it’s me.” I flipped him over like a pancake, earning a squeak and a flail. He managed to kick me in the side.
