Page 52 of War on Christmas

Rule #4: No sex two nights in a row.Smash!

Tap-tap-tap.I wait at Jeremy’s window, teeth chattering, and pull my sweater tighter around me.

This is a bad idea. An awful idea. Aterribleidea.

What Jeremy and I need right now is some space. A little room to cool down from whatever the hell last night was. Because nothing about last night—or early this morning—feltcasual and no-strings-attached. It felt…intense. Too much eye contact that was actually the perfect amount. Soothing touches every time I was coming down from the high of orgasm. Deep, dreamless sleep, like his big Viking body wrapped around mine was the long-lost key to feeling safe in a way I never have before.

Which is ridiculous, becausesafeis the last word I would use to describe Jeremy. Not because he called my bluff on the spanking. I’d straight-up dared him to follow through on that. But because being with Jeremy—whether setting the hotel sheets on fire or watching movies in my parents’ basement—feels like tiptoeing along a cliff’s edge in high heels. Naked. I want to deny it, but I can’t quite shake the swooping, unsettling feeling that at any moment I could fall from a height that will leave me broken and mangled.

But there are only eight days until Christmas. Eight days left to get Jeremy Kelly out of my system for good.

That’s what I’d told myself when I woke up early this morning, hand splayed on Jeremy’s chest, rising and falling to the rhythm of his breath. The sun had filtered through a crack in the drapes, painting his handsome face—and that impossible chin dimple—gold as I studied him, drinking in details I’ve never been in a position to notice before. The sandpaper tickle of his morning stubble. The childlike pout of his lower lip while he slept. The way his fingers tightened on my hip, trying to hold me to him when I got out of bed.

I’d felt it then. The urge to grab my things and go.Run, run, run.

However, I like to think I’m a little more strategic than I was at fifteen. If I’d run off scared this morning, it would have been the ultimate admission that last night had been…well, special. Andthatkind of concession is a big, fatnope.

Which is why I’m freezing my tits off outside Jeremy’s window at midnight. I’m proving a point. I can do this. Anything that felt unprecedented or downright fucking magical last night was obviously the result of a hormone-induced frenzy, nothing more. Best to be grown-ups about the whole thing and take advantage of the time we have. (And that, my friends, is what we call “adulting.”)

The window squeaks open, and I try to look casual—shivering outside his bedroom window like a stalker in the middle of the night—as he leans out.

“Miss me, Sunshine?”

For the record, it’s been ten minutes since I’ve seen him. After that extremely awkward family dinner, Thad, Sam, Jeremy, and I retreated to the basement to give Sam an impromptu Caves & Conquerors tutorial, and the night flew by in some kind of weird (but fun) middle-school reunion, with surprise appearances from our long dormant C&C characters. Thad had orchestrated and run the short campaign—a quest to search an abandoned cave for hidden magical objects—and Sam, playing as a newly created character, jumped into the merriment. Dice were rolled. Adventure was had. The Nilsen “triplets” (plus Sam) were together again, except we replaced our off-brand soda with a six-pack and two of the “triplets” are having a super-hot holiday fling.

So, nottotallylike old times.

(Come to think of it, I never did love that whole “triplets” thing.)

I tear my eyes away from Jeremy in nothing but boxer briefs and pretend to check an imaginary watch on my wrist. “By my calculations, it’s been fifteen hours since my last orgasm.” I shake my head. “I have to admit, Asshat, I didn’t expect you to be such a slack—oof!”

Jeremy pulls me through the window, his arms hooked under my armpits, and I press my hands to my mouth to smother my laughter. I may love grossing out Thad, but I have no desire to wake up Janet. So, I bite my lip, subduing my sigh when Jeremy picks me up and carries me the two big steps across his tiny bedroom to his twin-size bed. He lowers me to the mattress gently, his lips already on mine, and my traitorous body melts into him, craving his heat after the winter cold. I press my icy palms to his bare chest and ribs, and he shudders against me.

“Christ, you’re cold,” he mumbles against my mouth, but he doesn’t pull away. He steadies himself between my bent knees and pulls my hands against him—his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders—like he can draw the cold out of me, absorbing it into himself.

“You could have been a gentleman and come tomyroom,” I whisper, my hands now roaming the muscles of his back. He’s peeling off my hoodie, my loose T-shirt, my leggings, his lips pressing against my bare skin as it’s exposed, and I soak up every touch. “Instead, you made me brave the winter elements, risking life and limb to—”

He brings his lips to mine, silencing me. When he pulls back, he smooths my hair from my forehead, his hand warm against my face. His sheets still carry the faint scent of the Tommy Hilfiger cologne he wore in high school, and for a second, I wonder what my teenage self would think of this situation. A secret fantasy and cavorting with the enemy, rolled into one.

“I wasn’t sure if the fair bard was sore after last night,” he whispers, and for the briefest moment, my jaw drops open in shock. Because Jeremy isplayingwith me—as inroleplaying—using my beloved bard character from C&C.

He smirks at my look of shock, and I quickly compose my face into bored neutrality, even as my pulse races. Because Roxy Noteleaf, the half-elf bard, is never,evershocked. Roxy has carried the world’s most thrilling stories—stories of romance and adventure—hither and yon. Roxy has seen it all. Jeremy looks down at me, considering, and then flips our positions in one smooth motion—no small feat on his twin mattress. Once he’s beneath me, he holds my gaze as he slides my panties down and drops them to the floor.

“Or if she was…” His hands grab onto my ass and pull me up his body, positioning me so I’m straddling his face, and my breath leaves my body. I reach out and balance myself against the wall, his stubble brushing my inner thighs. “…amenableto me further proving my considerable skills in the bed chamber?”

His hands, firm and commanding, push my legs wider, dropping me lower until his mouth is on me, his tongue running delicately around my clit. My fingers clutch at the drywall.

I struggle to catch my breath as I answer. “Such an arrangement could certainly be…aah…” My hips start moving, circling against him, and his deep hum of approval has my eyes rolling back in my head. “…agreeable. I would be happy to tell tales of Ulrik Lightborne’s lustful, uh…” Another swirl of his tongue, and I’m pressing my hand to my mouth to stifle my moan. “…appetites, far and wide. Now, dwarf…whether your skills areconsiderable…” He turns his head to nip my thigh, and I jerk, swallowing back a laugh. “…now, that remains to be seen.”

His teasing nips turn to soothing kisses. “Sounds like I better get to work.”

Thirty-Four

JEREMY

7 days until Christmas…

“I’mjustfeelingsorefreshed this morning. I got such a good night’s sleep.” My mom stretches her arms above her head before turning to me, her smile bright. “How about you? Didyouget a good night’s sleep?”

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