Page 64 of A Very Snowed In New Year
And I do.
EIGHTEEN
Piper
ROUND UP YON VIRGIN
It takes a lot of ab and leg strength to stand up from a couch with a twenty-two-year-old woman attached to you, even if she’s topless. It’s a good thing Holden Archer has that kind of strength, and it’s a great thing that my legs are wrapped around his waist and my arms are wrapped around his neck, and it’s even better that he’s carrying me to the bedroom like this.
I am so glad I have boobs now, and I am so glad they’re pressing against Holden’s bare chest.
On the big screen, Sidney is going to lose her virginity to someone she really shouldn’t have sex with, but I get to have the best First Time anyone has ever had.
I feel so good.
At home, I have a dimmable crystal touch lamp on my desk. If I touch any part of the metal base, the chandelier bulb turns on. Even if my arm accidentally brushes against it. That’s how my body reacts to Holden. I’m like that shiny rose-gold lamp,but only with him. His slightest touch turns me on, and I feel like I’m glowing and incandescent. I always thought I had a lot of energy before, but now I think I was on the dimmest setting. It took Holden Archer’s hands and mouth on my skin to show me how bright I can shine.
I don’t want to jinx it or anything. But even if the actualitpart is horrible, everything that has already happened since Holden walked through the front door of this cabin is better than anything even I could have imagined. And I have fantasized about Holden more than I have any other guy. More than both Zac Efron and Shawn Mendes combined. But never—and this is shocking—neverdid I envision snow.
Because in the movies and on TV, if snow falls when a guy and a girl kiss, that means the guy and girl are falling in love. And even though it may have been a wish I’d buried deep down, I didn’t dare to imagine that with Holden Everett Archer. Not even in my wildest Piper Dreams.
This bedroom isn’t very big. It’s cozy. The queen-size bed takes up most of the room, aside from the looming presence of the wedding dress that is now behind the closet doors. I turned the lights off when I went back into the living room earlier, so the room is only lit by the dim white light outside the very big windows, which are covered by sheer white curtains. I sort of wish the curtains were heavier so the room could be darker, but I really have no complaints right now.
He tosses me onto the bed, in the most reverent way a person can toss another person onto a bed. The white duvet is so soft. A little cool on my bare back, but I sink into it, getting comfortable. If I were writing this scene, I know exactly how I’d want this to go. I make a mental note to remember this, and then I realize—I don’t have to write this scene. I’m living this scene.
Holden runs his fingers—those fingers that have now been inside of me—through his hair as he looks down at me. He is definitely flexing.
“I have another request…” I tell him.
“I would love to hear it,” Holden says. “But first…I’m just going to turn around, nice and slow. For absolutely no reason…” He does. He turns around, nice and slow, so I can get a good look at his firm, rounded butt in those jeans. Even when his jeans are unzipped in the front, they still hug his butt in the back because his buttocks have the perfect projection, volume, and degree of concavity at the hip. I would estimate his lateral thigh-to-buttock ratio to be around 1.18 or 1.20. He one thousand percent possesses my preferred male gluteal aesthetic. It’s like he was designed for me.
I didn’t even have to ask for this. All I have to do is lie back on my elbows and keep my eyes open. Who even needs romance movies when guys like this actually exist? When guys with magnificent butts likethatexist? When a guy who’s read part of my Extra Super Secret Diary and my fanfic andstillwanted to meet me exists?
He turns back around to face me. “Would you like to take a picture?” he asks cheekily. “I hear they last longer.”
“Yeah, actually, where’s my phone?”
He grabs my ankle, laughing, and proceeds to remove my very long sock. Usually when I remove my socks myself it’s not a big deal. Certainly not sexy. But this—Holden Archer is undressing me, starting with my socks, and it’s a very big deal.
And I’m suddenly very self-conscious. “You’re going to see me naked now.”
“I sure hope so.” He slips the sock off my other leg, pulling it down from over the knee, tugging it off my foot and tossing it away.
I lie back and cover my boobs. “I sort of wish I could just stare at your butt all day.”
“I just can’t think of a way for you to do that at the same time as I do all the things I want to do to you.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Is it?”
I realize I’m squeezing my legs together.
“Are you getting nervous again?”
I stare at the bulge of that big, hard, throbbing member in his jeans. The thing that’s going to thrust in and out of my Delta of Venus. My legs are stretched out in front of me, and all I’m wearing is a miniskirt and a very wet pair of cotton panties. He’s already seeing most of me, but… I stretch my legs out, point my toes, and rub the sides of my heels together. “Maybe. Maybe if we’re under the covers?”
He sighs and places his hands on his hips. “All right, I have another idea. Tell me if you like it. It’s the opposite of you staring at my butt all day, so try to stay open to it.”
