Page 64 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

I wondered if Oliver and Liam had snow days like this. I always got the impression that their foster parents hadn’t been very involved in their lives. But surely, they’d been able to play in the snow.

“Liam and I, along with a couple of our foster siblings, tried to make an igloo.”

“How’d it go?”

“Not too good.” He laughed and it sounded like a happy memory. The line was quiet for several minutes. It was almost awkward. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A sweetness filled my heart. “Oh? What are you thinking about?”

“Ah… well, admittedly, some of it is X-rated.”

My girly parts flared to life. “Goodness.”

“Is that a good goodness or an Oliver is a pervert goodness?”

“I’m just thinking that it might be uncomfortable for you.”

“Extremely.”

Electricity crackled around me as our conversation took an erotic turn. “Did you really used to fantasize about me?”

He was silent for a moment, and I worried I’d ruined the moment. After all, he’d felt shame at having fantasized about me while I was with his brother.

“Yes. I did. What do you think about that? Do you think it was wrong?”

“No. To be honest, I’m intrigued and flattered. Will you tell me what you fantasized about?”

He let out a groan. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Oh, boy, do I ever.My body was humming with excitement wondering what he imagined about me that got him off. “I’m sure, but if you’re uncomfortable, I understand.”

There was silence, and I suspected he was trying to decide whether he wanted to reveal so much to me. Considering the secret I was keeping, it was unfair of me to ask him to give over so much of himself.

I was about to let him off the hook when he said, “It was usually you on your knees giving me a blow job.”

Immediately, I pictured it. I was on my knees, that long, thick dick of his jutting out, begging to be licked and sucked.

“Were you standing or sitting?” I asked.

“A little of both. Sometimes in the shower.”

I was there, the hot water sluicing down my skin as I took him in hand, stroking him.

“Are you hard?”

He let out a frustrated growl. “You know I am.”

“You should take care of it.” Inside, I was wondering where this sexual bravado was coming from. Not that I never gave a man a blow job or had phone sex. I’d never initiated it, though.

“Are you wet?”

Nervous embarrassment skittered over my skin. “Yes.”

“You should take care of it.”

“I will if you will,” I challenged.

“Talk dirty to me, Lindsay.”

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