Page 293 of Lilah
The bathroom door opens and I hear Grey's footsteps as he walks out. I sit up slowly and admire him. His arms are raised as he dries his hair with a towel roughly. His joggers hang low on his hips and I narrow my eyes at the defined top of a 'v' just above the waist of his pants. His long sleeve shirt covers the rest of what I want to see.
He lowers the towel and tosses it into the hamper near the door. He raises his dark eyes to me and a slow smile pulls at his lips. He begins walking over to me and I raise my arms for him.
He leans into me and I hug him tightly. Sitting on the bed, he pulls me onto his lap gently. Bear lets out a soft whine.
"I know you're lookin' hard at my goodies," he uses the same term I use and my heart flutters.
I nod softly against him.
I pull away from the hug and place a long kiss on his lips.
"Merry Christmas," he pulls away, pecking my lips one more time. I smile.
"Merry Christmas you filthy animal."
"You gotta always be so mean to me?" he shakes his head but I know he's teasing.
"I'm never mean to you."
His eyes suddenly take on a certain look. I know that look. I've seen it too many times by now. His hands trail lower on my waist and he pulls my body closer to his.
"You hornish little buttnugge-" he cuts me off.
"Are you gonna give me my present now or later?" he leans down to me, uttering lowly.
"Right now," I whisper. His eyes flash excitedly. I raise my hands up to his booty and I slap that butt so hard.
"Merry Christmas, that was it," I smile and he looks more unamused than I've seen him look in quite a while.
"You're a little shit, you know that?" he squeezes my waist and I squirm a bit.
"Wanna know something?" I ask him and before he can answer, I continue anyway, "I don't give a fart."
"I got you something," he says and I perk up. He made me not get anything for him. Like, fully kept me from getting anything. He also said he'd be mad if I got anything which made me mad and I didn't talk to him for three minutes.
So then I said if I'm not allowed to get him anything, then he's not allowed to get me anything because that's not how this works.
"You did?"
"Fuck no, kiss my ass," he pulls away, smirking to himself and my mouth drops open. Then he comes back closer.
"I'm kidding," he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. So he did get me something? I swear he doesn't like to listen to me.
He reaches into the pocket of his joggers and when his hand comes back out, it's tightly closed. He brings his hand up, level to my face and I furrow my eyebrows. He extends out his pointer finger, all while still keeping the hand clenched shut.
He pushes his hand closer and his eyebrows furrow down at the neckline of my shirt and he points to it. I look down at what he's looking at and he opens his hand, running his monstrous hand up my face.
I give him an unamused look.
"Really, I did get you something," he nods, putting his hand into his other pocket. He brings his hand up and shows me his middle finger.
Someone has jokes today.
"I'm sorry," he pulls my head into his chest and he kisses the top of it. He reaches down and interlaces his hand with mine, pulling away.
"C'mon," he begins walking somewhere.
"I trust you as far as I can throw you. And you know what that means? That means I trust you zero percent," I explain.
