Page 42 of Shut Up and Jingle Me
The way Eli clenches around me as he comes nearly undoes me. He’s still trembling, gasping for breath, his release slick and sticky between us, and I can’t hold back another second.
“Eli—fuck—” My hips slam forward, erratic, every thrust harder than the last until the tension snaps. Heat floods me, blinding, my entire body locking as I spill into the condom with a guttural sound that I barely recognize as mine.
He pulls me down with him, arms wrapped tight around my shoulders, holding me through the shuddering aftershocks. His lips brush my temple, his chest heaving against mine, and all I can do is bury myself in the curve of his neck, groaning low as the last waves rip through me.
The world steadies by degrees, our breaths syncing in the quiet. My cock throbs inside him even as I soften, the stretch of his body around me a reminder of just how deep I’d been. I press a shaky kiss to his shoulder before slowly, carefully, easing back.
He whimpers faintly at the loss, and the sound makes my chest twist. I kiss him once softly, like a promise I don’t dare voice. Because promising anything to this man is dangerous.
FIFTEEN
ELI
The room’sstill hushed except for the sound of our breathing, ragged and uneven. My body feels heavy, boneless, like I’ve been melted down to warmth and skin. Max hasn’t moved much either, one arm still draped across me as if he doesn’t trust me not to disappear.
The power’s still out, the faint winter light creeping pale and gray through the window. No hot shower. No easy escape into running water. Instead, Max reaches for the box of tissues on my nightstand—practical, grumpy as ever—and helps wipe away the mess cooling on my stomach and thighs. He does the same for himself with a quiet sigh, then tosses the crumpled tissues into the trash.
I was serious before; no guy has helped clean me up before. He might be grumpy, but God, he’s perfect.
It’s awkward in theory; two guys half-dressed, cleaning up from a hookup, but somehow it isn’t. Somehow it feels…tender. Intimate in a way I wasn’t expecting.
I curl closer once he’s settled again, tucking myself against his chest as though I belong there. His skin is warm, his heartbeat steady, and even though he smells like sex and sweatand the faintest trace of my peppermint candle, I can’t stop inhaling him.
“This is nice,” I murmur, half into his shoulder.
He hums low, noncommittal, but his hand finds the back of my head, fingers sifting through my hair in lazy strokes. It makes me smile. Makes me feel as if maybe he’s letting his guard down for once.
I know better than to think this is forever. Max isn’t built for forever…not with me. I saw it in his eyes at the coffee shop earlier, the way he bristled when I joked about boyfriends. He’ll never say it outright, but I know. This—whatever this is—has an expiration date.
But lying here in his arms, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath my cheek, I decide I don’t care. Not right now. Not while the world outside is buried under snow and we’ve got this bubble of warmth carved out between us.
So I do what I do best—I live in the present. I soak up the weight of his arm around me, the scratch of stubble against my temple, the quiet way he breathes as if he’s not as unaffected as he wants me to believe.
If this is all the time I get, I’m going to enjoy every damn second of it.
Max doesn’t say anything, just lies there with his hand in my hair, and I decide silence isn’t going to cut it. Not when I’ve got him this close. Not when I can feel the solid heat of his chest against me and know he isn’t pushing me away.
So I tilt my head just enough to peek up at him. “You know, you’re not bad at cuddling, Calder.”
His brow furrows. “That supposed to be a compliment?”
“Yes,” I say, grinning. “Though your Yelp reviews could use work. Three stars at best. Points docked for grumpy commentary.”
He huffs through his nose, the closest thing to a laugh I think I’ll get, and my heart does a stupid little flip. God, I love poking at him until he cracks. And I love his laughter even more.
“You trying to annoy me into smiling?” he mutters.
“Is it working?”
He doesn’t answer, but the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me enough. Victory.
I press closer, my voice dropping to something softer. “You look good when you smile, you know. Should try it more often.”
That earns me a quiet, “Shut up,” but it’s gentle, almost…fond.
I let the moment linger before my brain starts whirring again. Because cuddling’s great, yeah, but I’m not done. Not even close. If Max Calder’s going to be stuck in my Christmas wonderland during this blackout, then he’s going toexperienceit properly.
“I just had an idea.”
