Grant
When we get back to the house, everyone settles around the fireplace with Christmas music playing. Mel’s sons’ wives go to the kitchen to start preparing dinner, and I hover somewhere in between, not exactly sure where I want to be.
To be honest, I don’t hate Christmas so much this year. The music and the laughter has been nice, nicer than normal. I know it’s because of her, this little red beacon of happiness that suddenly fell into my life. After only one day, she has me wanting to change my plans for the spring. And the idea that I could go to her college town is ridiculous. The last thing I need to be doing is distracting her while she’s in school, but it just slipped out. I should really tell her that I spoke too soon, but I can tell her heart isn’t into the idea of going back at all. I know that’s not the future she wants, and I just wish she’d be honest with her mom.
But it’s not my place. Who am I to come in and try to dictate her life? It’s not fair of me to do that.
I know that I should really keep my distance from Audrey, that it would be best for her, but when I see her disappear down the hallway into her room, I can’t help myself. Acting as if I’m going to the restroom, I follow her until I’m standing in her room.
She turns around, and her eyes widen. “What are you doing?” she mouths, looking behind me.
Standing there, I look around at the walls and decorations in her space. It has the feel of an artsy loft, with sketches and painting pinned to a large board over her desk. There’s an easel in the corner with a messy stack of art books next to a reading chair.
“Can I see some of your artwork?” I ask.
With a slight roll of her eyes, she pulls a sketchbook from her desk and hands it to me. Flipping through the pages, I can’t seem to find one drawing that’s not perfect, that doesn’t make me fall in love with her a little.
“These are phenomenal, Audrey.”
“No, they’re not,” she says, letting her shoulders hang.
Acting on instinct, I reach out and clutch her chin between my fingers. Lifting her head to look at me, I correct her. “Yes, they are. Say it.”
She’s frozen, staring up at me with her lips parted. “They…they’re good.”
“Phenomenal,” I say.
Her gaze falls to my lips before she says breathlessly, “They’re phenomenal.”
“You’re phenomenal.”
“I’m phenomenal.” Her round eyes fill with moisture as I lean down to press my lips to her forehead.
“Good girl.”
She takes the sketchbook from my hands and drops it on the desk. Then she crosses the room and quietly shuts the door. My head titling, I stare at her with concern, but she only answers with her finger up to her lips in a shushing signal.
“Computer, play Christmas music,” she says to the little white speaker on her dresser, keeping her eyes on me. A moment later, an old version of Baby, It’s Cold Outside begins to play and she’s pushing me toward her bed.
“Audrey,” I whisper in a warning, but she ignores me. She keeps pushing until I’m sitting on her bed. She leans down to kiss me, and I can’t take my eyes off the door. Any moment someone could walk in. Somehow that makes the moment even hotter.
Letting Audrey take the lead, I watch as she lowers herself onto her knees on the floor, perched between my legs and looking up at me with an expression I’d like to remember forever. She is in control, confident and it’s sexy as fuck.
When she unbuttons my pants, I lose the ability to speak or move. I’m too captured by her beauty. Then, her hand is on the bare skin of my thickening cock, and it’s like fire. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. Instead, I touch her hair, running my fingers through the red strands.
And when she runs her tongue along the length, I stop breathing.
“Oh, fuck, Audrey,” I whisper so low only she can hear.
Her tongue circles the head, letting her saliva drip down and coating my dick in warmth. Then, her perfect red lips kiss the top before opening to take in the whole thing. I swear I see fucking stars. My breath comes out in short, stuttering exhales when I feel the softness of her tongue caress the head.
I haven’t had a blow job since I was married, and even then, it was probably a year before the divorce. They sure as hell weren’t like this. My ex treated it like a chore, and I never got off. She just looked too miserable.
But Audrey takes her time, staring up at me like she wants to take every inch—like she’s worshipping my cock. I beg my brain to memorize everything about this moment. How warm and wet her mouth is, the fear that someone could catch us, fuck, even the goddamn Christmas song playing on her speaker.
Audrey works my length, holding the base and squeezing her lips around me as she slides up and down. When she cups my balls, massaging them between her fingers, I know I’m done.
“Audrey, I’m—fuck,” I stutter quietly. Everything tightens, and I try to pull her off, ready to catch it in my hand if I have to, but she swats my hand away and sucks so hard on my cock that I have to bite down on my knuckle to keep from yelling.
My load shoots straight down the back of her throat, but she keeps working me until she’s swallowed down every drop.
Holy fucking night, indeed.
I stroke her hair and quickly pull her up to kiss her mouth, tasting the saltiness on her tongue. Audrey has a dirty side, that’s for fucking sure, and I want to explore it. I want to do every dirty, kinky, crazy fucking thing she wants to do.
Right now I would very much like to toss her on this bed and eat her pussy until she screams, but I need to get out of her room before people start to suspect something.
“You are so fucking amazing,” I whisper into her mouth.
Her lips stretch into a smile, but I don’t stop kissing her.
“We’re supposed to go to Midnight Mass,” she says. “What if I stay back with you?”
My heart soars and I can practically hear my own heartbeat. “Wherever you go, I go.”
After kissing her one more time, I zip myself up and stand. She makes sure the hallway is clear before I sneak over to the bathroom, like I was in there the whole time.
When I look at the man in the mirror, I don’t feel ashamed that a nineteen-year-old just gave me the best blow job of my life because I know it’s more than that. I know the smile on my face is there because I feel a lot of very intense things that are about more than orgasms and blow jobs.
I think I’m falling in love with this girl. In just two days, she’s brought out a side of me I forgot existed. I want to be spontaneous, romantic...happy. I want to be fucking happy, and I can’t remember the last time I thought that. I want to buy her things, surprise her with gifts, hold her hand while I drive, curl up with her at night. This is dangerous shit, but I don’t care.
One more day with Audrey, and I know I will be in love.