Chapter 8
I STAND CORRECTED
Fisher
She’s wearing a pink lace bra with a bow between her tits, and panties with candy canes on them.
As if I needed more encouragement to eat her up.
“You are too fucking sexy,” I tell her as I unhook that bra, freeing her tits. “And now I gotta taste these beauties,” I say, dropping my mouth to tug on one nipple, then the other.
“Ohhh,” she says softly as I kiss my way down her soft belly, swirling my tongue around her belly button, then I tug at the top of her panties with my teeth.
“Yes,” she whispers, but it sounds almost restrained.
Hmm.
I’ll have to keep working on that, on getting her to let go. “Been thinking about kissing you everywhere. Tasting you,” I say, as I kiss along the lace, moving down, down, down.
She whimpers, wriggling against me. But she’s quiet.
That won’t do at all. “You smell fucking incredible,” I murmur, then I raise my face and peel her panties off.
She shudders and covers her mouth with her hand.
And yup. I think I’ve cracked the code on her weird. Before I go down on my best friend, I climb up, bracing myself on my palms, meeting her face. “Are you loud in bed, baby? Because I fucking love noise.”
She laughs, then nibbles on the corner of her lips. “I think I want to be.”
Damn, she likes dirty talk, and she likes shouting? I am living my best life in my kind of filthy holiday flick. I kiss her once more, then say, “Be as loud as you want. Make some noise. Shout, groan, and please, fucking please, call my name when you come harder than you have before.”
She answers in a long, shuddery moan. “God. Yes. Now.”
I take orders very well, so I slide between her legs, wrap my hands around her sweet ass, and I kiss her pussy.
“Fuck yes,” I murmur, flicking my tongue through her wetness. “Merry Christmas to me.”
Then, I shut up so I can lick and kiss my girl. She writhes and moans, growing louder with every flick of my tongue then louder still as I suck on her clit.
“Yes, like that,” she urges.
I bury my face between her legs. Soon, she’s groaning, louder and louder with every lick. The volume rises higher and higher as I devour her. Her fingers rope through my hair and she shouts. “Yes, god yes, please now.”
And I am harder than a marble statue.
She is a dirty, delicious gift in bed as she comes louder than I ever imagined she’d be.
And it’s everything I want.
When her cries turn into soft whimpers, I stop, drag a hand across my face, then flop next to her, utterly pleased to have brought her such bliss, but we’ve only started. “You’re so fucking weird, I need you to ride my cock right now, baby.”
She turns to me with bright eyes and a filthy grin. “Yes, please.”
In seconds, she locates a condom in her nightstand, then rolls it down my hard-on. Her hand on my dick is everything I never knew I wanted in bed.
Because she’s everything I want in and out of bed. She’s the one. And it’s all become crystal clear in the last twenty-four hours.
Soon, she’s riding me, her hands pressed to my chest, her face blissed out, her tits bouncing free. She rises up and down with wild abandon, unleashing the sexiest sounds, the neediest moans.
“You want to come again, baby?” I rasp out.
“So badly,” she says, and she’s not whispering anymore. She’s loud and demanding. And I am here for all of it.
“I’ll get you there,” I say, then grip her hips, slow her pace. “But get on your hands and knees. Need to fuck you like that.”
She gasps.
Yup. Had a feeling Katie would want to be taken apart good and hard. She slides off me then scrambles to all fours, lifting that beautiful ass high in the air.
“Damn, woman. Lift that sweet ass for me,” I praise as I kneel behind her, notching the head of my cock against her slick opening.
“Like that?” she asks.
“Just. Like. That,” I say then I sink into her.
She bows her back and unleashes a long, luxurious ohhh.
And like that, I fill her and fuck her, sliding a hand between her legs, stroking her, until she’s shaking and shuddering.
Then crying out beneath me. Cresting the hill once again. With a loud, carnal grunt of coming, I follow her there.
We collapse together in a hot, sweaty mess. I pull her close. When I recover the power of speech, I say, “You can shout in bed anytime.”
She wriggles against me. “And you can talk dirty to me anytime too.”
“I think we’ll get along just fine in bed. But I’m happy to keep up the lessons, baby.”
I can feel her smile as she says, “So many more lessons.”
* * *
Maybe it’ll be weird now that we’ve cleaned up and come down from our orgasm highs. We’re friends who just fucked, hard and loud. But I’ll do everything I can to make sure this—she and I together—feels like our new normal.
Once we get back in bed, I tug her against me. “Katie Samuels, I think I’ve had it bad for you for a long time,” I admit, and…wow.
My chest feels lighter.
My heart feels fizzy.
My mind is happy.
“You have?” she asks, like that’s hard to believe, but like she wants to believe it too.
I nod against her, then kiss the back of her neck, her shoulder, her hair. She shivers as I travel along her skin. “I think I’ve been into you for years, and it took that kiss under the mistletoe to make me realize you’re the one I’ve been wanting to ask out for a long time.”
I should be scared to tell her this. I should be freaking out over what this means. But I’m not. I’m just not.
It’s too right having her in my arms like this, curled up with me.
She lets out a long, contented sigh.
I think.
I hope.
Then she turns around, facing me. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”
I tense. Wait. What? “What’s weird?”
She smiles. “Falling for your friend.”
I laugh and all the tightness vanishes. I kiss her again. “It sure is,” I say, then I yawn. “By the way, I’m spending the night.”
She laughs. “I figured.”
“Good. But put that Krampus snow globe away. Don’t want to look at him when I wake up.”
“Hmm,” she says, sounding pensive. “If you give me a toe-curling, sheet-grabbing orgasm when we wake up, I’ll hide that snow globe.”
“Deal,” I say, then I kiss my best friend goodnight. Pretty sure she’s more than my friend though.
She’s all mine.
* * *
A few nights later, I’m in the zone. On the rink, chasing a puck down the ice, the opponent’s net in my crosshairs.
Nothing can stop me, and when I’m there, I slap that puck hard right between the goalie’s legs.
I thrust my arms in the air.
And when the game ends and we win, I skate over to the tunnel, and she walks over from the stands. And I kiss the girl who’s wearing my jersey—my best friend—in front of everyone.