Page 29 of My Holiday Hookup Road Trip

“Are you sure?” He pulls away to sweep his thumbs over my cheeks. “Because you spent the whole day trying to get rid of me.”

“This is the only thing I’ve been able to think about all day,” I breathe.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” he says, but he’s lifting my shirt over my head and turning his attention to the zipper of my jeans.

“I wanted this last night,” I tell him as I kick off my shoes so I can pull my jeans all the way off. Then I undo his button and zipper and reach inside to close my fingers around his cock, which is as excitingly hard as I remember.

“Oh my God,” he groans, and after a little more tugging and hopping, he’s naked and I’m naked, and we’re stretched out on the bed I was supposed to sleep in alone tonight. He reaches for me, but I duck away to press kisses into his chest, his stomach, his hip. He groans even louder when I suck on the skin under his belly button before finally moving to his cock, where I circle my tongue around the head before sucking him all the way into my mouth.

“OhGod.” His hands sink into my hair as I move along his shaft and dig my fingers into the straining muscles of his thighs. “I wanted your mouth on me last night,” he grunts out.

“I wanted that too,” I say thickly, trading my lips for my fingers. I wrap my fist around him and use my saliva to jack him slowly, loving the way his hips lift with each pass of my hands.

“I also wanted this.” He wraps his hands around my hips and helps me inch up his body until I’m positioned over his mouth. “Grab the headboard.”

It’s the only warning I get before he pulls me down onto his face and his tongue glides through my pussy.

“Fuck,” I hiss, scrambling for purchase on the headboard as he starts to lick me, spearing his tongue into my cunt before sliding it up to my clit, over and over until I’m panting and my thighs shake. “That feels so good, captain.”

As the nickname falls from my lips, he growls against my core. “Call me that again.”

“Captain!” I cry as he keeps that growl going, bringing a whole new series of vibrations into the mix. The tension builds between my legs as I work myself over Sebastian’s eager mouth, back and forth, chasing that pleasure. As my movements get more frantic, he lets go of my hips and splays one hand on my lower back while he palms a breast with his other hand. The scrape of his skin against my nipple sends me over the edge, and I come in a rush, tensing and shuddering against his lips.

I tumble sideways off of him afterward, and he uses the new position to suck my other breast into his mouth until my spine curves off the mattress.

“Sebastian,” I whimper, my hands stroking down his back. “Captain. Condom, now.”

But he ignores me, takes his time kissing his way up my neck and over my jaw to claim my mouth with his. “Not until you come again.”

“No, I—” But his fingers are already in my pussy, spreading my wetness over my still-sensitive clit, and I forget what I was objecting to. “Yes,” I pant, raising my head to watch what he’s doing to my body. “More of that.”

He thumbs my clit and spears me with his middle finger, pumping and circling as his teeth catch my nipple causing a sharp burst of pain that explodes into pleasure a few seconds later. The second orgasm hits me even faster than the first one, and his breath is hot on my breast as I shake under his fingers.

“Good girl,” he whispers as I come down. “My good girl.”

He pulls away to find his discarded jeans, and then it’s wallet, condom, ripped package, all handled so quickly that his body’s covering mine again before I can even start to miss it. Only then does he slow down to hold my gaze as he slides into me, inch by hot, hard inch. I shudder once he’s fully seated, my inner walls still sensitive and fluttery, and he pulls out slowly before driving himself back in with a quick stroke, using the motion to capture my lips with his. His tongue invades my mouth, his cock fills my pussy, and I’m nothing but sensations. The friction, the sting of his teeth on my earlobe, his breath hot against my cheek.

“So good, so good,” I croon, not sure if I’m agreeing with his assessment of me or telling him how good he is in return. His approving groan tells me it’s working for him whichever way he’s taking it.

I dig my fingers into his ass so I can pull him even tighter against me. The sharp press of my nails makes him groan, interrupts his rhythm, and his breathing saws in and out of his lungs as his hips snap forward once, twice. On the third stroke, he cries out my name and empties himself into me, collapsing with a groan. Once his breath normalizes, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and kisses me over and over, tongue sweeping against mine possessively. But eventually his kisses gentle, and he pulls away with a final brush against my lips.

“How’s your emotions bottle?” He brushes his thumb down my cheek as if he’s checking for tears, but my eyes are dry.

“Intact,” I say. “And full of happy stuff.” My body still tingles from two incredible orgasms, and I’m coming down from that high all wrapped up in him. We’re still going our separate ways tomorrow, but tonight he gave me a new memory to replace the old one. I’ll cherish it, even if saying so out loud makes me feel too vulnerable.

After we clean up, we curl around each other in bed, only waking up to use the second condom Sebastian has stashed in his wallet. It’s slow this time, and I’m on top, hands resting on his chest as I work myself up and down on his cock while his bright, pretty eyes lock on mine. I see it on his face, the way he’s taking this in and making himself remember. I see the things he keeps himself from saying after he makes me come and my pussy squeezes an orgasm out of him right back.

We’re both on the edge of sleep when he finally gives in.

“Come home with me,” he says. “Not so you won’t be alone for Christmas, but because I want you there. I want you there withme.”

My heart thumps with longing, then just as quickly freezes because Ican’twant that. He’s asking me to experience all the big, bright family things I’ve missed over the years. It’ll draw me deeper into his life, the kind of life I’m running away from.

It takes me a long time to answer.

“I can’t. This is just”—I wave my hand through the air, frustrated with him, frustrated with myself—“this is a few stolen days. It was fun, but it’s all too fast. Too soon. None of this is real.”

I almost want him to come up with an argument that proves me wrong, some sweet words to convince me that you can be this sure about someone else after only a few days. But his only response is to hold me tighter and press his lips against the top of my head.

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