Rory's Christmas

Chapter 13

Caution.

This chapter begins with a bit of a steamy scene that finishes with Drew's PoV, the end of which is more relevant to the overall storyline and marked by the usual twenty dashes.

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Chapter 13

Drew had lost count of the number of times he’d imagined kissing Ro—probably every time she opened her mouth to speak—but as soon as her lips touched his, he had been a goner.

There was no comparison; no daydream nor fantasy could ever measure up to the real thing, to the act of kissing Rory. She was clumsy at first, overeager and hurried, unaware of her own movements because of her desperation for human contact; but as soon as he responded, pressing his mouth back to hers and teasing her, begging for entrance, she was kissing him back with equal intensity and what she lacked in experience she definitely made up for in passion—passion enough that all the blood in Drew went rushing south. And when he nibbled at her lips and she gasped at the slight pain, he took the opportunity and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

The world fell away and Drew forgot all about time and space. All he could feel, touch, taste was Ro—he placed a hand on her back to press her to him, cupping her face with his other to tilt her head and deepen the kiss, unable to think of anything but tasting her, more of her, more, more, more, more—swirling and licking around the cavern of her mouth, wanting more, demanding it, claiming every inch of her.

Her feet left the ground as she surrendered to him and he hauled her close until they were hip to hip, her slight curves so soft against his naked chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra. That realization came just a second before he let his hand wander beneath her shirt and traced his fingers over a soft breast, his thumb immediately brushing against a hardening nipple. She whimpered. He felt himself harden.

He growled at the sound, wanting to hear it again, and found his hands stroking and caressing her soft skin—moremoremore—and searching for the right mixture of touch and kiss that would make her moan again. And she did.

And it was akin to having a bucket of cold water dumped over him—all desire vanished (well, maybe not completely) in the space of a second and he tore away from her mouth.

They were both breathing heavily, panting while Drew threatened to get his raging libido under control. There was a starry look in Rory’s eyes; confusion and lust warred on her pretty features for at least a full minute before both cleared to contrite.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered stiffly, pushing herself backwards and getting off the bed before Drew even realized what was going on. And then he found himself ogling her bare legs because she was only wearing a nightdress that barely reached mid-thigh, and then his head filled with images of those legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her, making her scream as he fucked her into oblivi—

Okay. Not good. Definitely not good.

Drew blinked rapidly and rubbed at his face, forcing himself to think of anything but her. Mom and Dad making out? Gran in a bikini?

HOLYMOTHERFUCKING—alright, alright, that’s enough!

Wait, where was Ro?

He looked around the room, confused. She had been here just a moment ago—on his lap, kissing him, letting him touch her and touching him back—but now the room was completely empty...and the door slightly ajar.

He slid off the bed with some difficulty, still having to adjust himself—after surreptitiously making sure that there weren’t any late-night visitors creeping around—discreetly in his pants. He padded out into the hall in his thick socks, following a crack of yellow light to the small washroom.