Page 8 of Butter My Biscuit

I get up and walk out of the room. “I can promise you, no one is going to ever want those icy nubs on them. No one.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t sleep on the couch. I need your body heat tonight. Don’t make me beg.”

I chuckle as I search for my duffel bag in the living room.

As I unzip it, she continues, “Okay, fine. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.”

“Waiting.”

I stop digging for a brief moment and wait. Silence. Then, I reach in and find the thick socks that I like to wear with my boots in the winter. I grab them in my fist and go back to the bedroom, but I stop at the doorway.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear youbegging.”

“Pretty please with cherries on top. I will play nice.” Her nipples are rock hard and poking through the silk tank top she’s wearing. She notices me take a peek. She clears her throat. “I know. I seriously have tits of mass destruction right now because it’s so cold. Imagine how cold my toes are. My nipples aren’t any better.”

“You didn’t ask me to warm those up,” I say, my words very clear.

When she gulps, I burst into laughter, walking toward her. Then, I pull the comforter down and grab one of her ankles.

“Hey!” She kicks. “You’d better not be tryin’ to hog tie me!”

She yelps with laughter as I slide a sock on one foot, then the other. Then, I rub my hands across them, trying to create some sort of friction. I used to warm her feet up like this when we were kids.

She sighs with relief, and I help reposition the blankets on her.

“Good night, princess. Keep your body parts to yourself.”

“I’ll try.” She snickers. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” I climb back into bed and roll over on my side. With my back facing her, I close my eyes.

“You’re too good to me,” she whispers.

If she wasn’t taken and I wasn’t chickenshit, I’d be good to her in other ways, too, but I keep that to myself.

My body relaxes, and I slowly begin to drift off. Right before I fall asleep, she speaks.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” she asks.

“Yes.” I laugh with a sigh. “I distinctly remember you telling me that you needed to practice before homecoming because you were nervous about kissing your date.”

That was theonlytime we’ve ever crossed the unspoken off-limits line. However, Gracie has tempted me on more than one occasion.

She rolls over, moves in, and wraps her arm around me. Her breasts are pressed against my back, and her warm, hot breath flutters against my skin.

I turn and try to look at her, but she’s too close. “You agreed tonosnuggling.”

“Shh.” She squeezes me tight.

“Gracie,” I groan.

She sighs and then rolls away from me. “Fine. I’ll freeze over here instead. Nice knowing you.”

Of course, I feel guilty, but I also know we won’t be able to do this forever. One day, we’ll be married and living our own lives. I can’t imagine her future husband would ever allow this, so I’ll take what I can.

I move in close to her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her into my body.

“You’re toasty,” she says, relaxing against me. She releases a content sigh.

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