Page 17 of Say Yule Stay
“Fastest snowman you ever built,” I joke and he smirks.
“Deal.”
14
WALKER
Idid not, in fact, want to build a snowman.
I wanted to strip Lacey down, lay her out on my table, and feast on her like a god damn meal.
Butno.
No, we have to be festive, and apparently a snowman is at the top of that list. I can’t remember the last time I built one, but it’s almost worth it seeing Lacey taking big awkward steps trying to find sticks for the arms and anything that will pass for eyes, a nose, and the mouth.
Any rocks or other items have long since been covered by the monster of a snowstorm still dumping fluffy white powder on Starlight Bay.
“How’s it going?” I yell, and I can only guess that when she raises a gloved hand at me without looking back, she’s flipping me off.
The thought makes me smile because I want her just as frustrated as I am. My balls are so damn blue I’m going to need some medical intervention.
Or her mouth.
Or that tight pussy I’ve been dreaming about all day.
And suddenly, the house is too far to wait.
I need her—now.
Stomping through the yard, I grab her elbow and spin her to face me, her question dying on her lips as I cover them with mine. Ripping one glove off, I toss it in the snow before attacking the button on her snowpants and pulling the zipper down just enough to wedge my hand inside.
How many fucking layers does she have on?
Probably enough to keep her warm.
But that doesn’t help me right now.
It takes a few seconds, but then she gasps as I sink my middle finger inside her, the heel of my hand grinding against her clit as her gloved hands cling to the arms of my jacket.
“Walker.” My name is a plea, her eyes wide and her lips parted as she wiggles and writhes against my hand, urging me to go deeper.
Harder.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The angle is too awkward to insert another finger, but she needs more.
I need more.
Ripping my other glove off with my teeth, I shake my head and watch it sail several feet away from us. Lacey whimpers, still holding on to me as I unzip her jacket and work my way under a sweatshirt, long-sleeved tee, and tank top.
“Hold your coat closed,” I demand, and she’s only too happy to oblige. She throws her head back, and I push the cup of her bra down enough to pinch her nipple, rolling it between my fingertips as I massage her tit. “Now come all over me, Lace, right here for everyone to see.”
I’d never fucking share her, but right now, in the middle of this storm, I don’t care if everyone sees. I just want her to come.
And she does, on a strangled cry. It’s loud and tortured and full of relief as a potent sense of satisfaction roars through me. Her pussy clenches around my finger, her clit throbbing, as I continue to gently grind against the little bundle of nerves, drawing every ounce of pleasure from her that I can.
