“Probably.” I smile. “But then it makes me a selfish woman, too. I want to have my Grayson and eat my Derek, too.”
He gifts me with another of those free laughs. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We don’t speak again as we finish washing off and step out of the shower. I take the time to dry my hair and pull on my silk robe. Grayson waits for me, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was nervous. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I’m nervous, too.
We walk out into the main room to find Derek has built up the fire again. The snow continues to come down steadily, and I’m glad of it despite the headache it’s going to be to deal with flights and the like. Speaking of… “We should probably call the airline.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Grayson heads for his phone, pauses to kiss Derek on the temple, and then retreats back into our bedroom. If he sees the thunderstruck look on his friend’s face, he doesn’t stick around long enough to react to it.
I walk into the kitchen and Derek slides his arms around me seeming without thought, his gaze on the door my husband just closed. “Hey,” I murmur.
“Hey.” He finally looks down at me. “You look happy.”
“I am.” I smile. “I don’t know about you, but this has been the best fucking Christmas—pun entirely intended.”
Derek laughs. “I’m not even going to try to argue that. I don’t know how you’ll top it next year.” His hazel eyes shutter, though he makes an obvious effort to keep his smile. “A printed tie isn’t going to cut it.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I slide my hands up his thick stomach and chest. “Especially if I tied you to our bed with it and Grayson and I have our wicked way with you.”
“Emma.”
I ignore the warning in his voice. “Grayson’s probably going to be busy for a bit.”
“Uh huh.” He motions at the kitchen. “It’s been a hot minute since breakfast. We could use the calories.”
“Oh, definitely. Calories. Yep.” I hook my hands into the top of his lounge pants. “I’m starving.”
“Emma.”
“Derek.” I mimic his serious tone and give him a sweet smile. “I haven’t had your cock in my mouth yet and I’m dying for it. After I suck you off, you can feed me.”
His brows draw together. “How am I supposed to argue with that?”
“Easy answer: you’re not.” I tug on his waistband, towing him out of the kitchen and into the living room. I pause. “The question you should be asking is whether you want me to give you a blow job, or whether you want to fuck my mouth.”
He rumbles out a laugh and walks over to sit on the couch. “Wanting me to do all the work. Greedy.”
“Always.” I sink between his big thighs and he lifts his hips enough for me to free his cock. Derek’s been on his knees so often for me in the last day. It feels right to have our positions reversed, to be the one doing the seducing, even if he doesn’t realize that’s my aim. I wrap a fist around his cock and lick my lips.
If someone asked me a week ago if I loved Derek, I would have answered that of course I do. He’s Grayson’s best friend, and he’s my friend, too. Of course I love him.
In my heart of hearts, I knew it wasn’t as uncomplicated as that, even before this Christmas. As I look up into his roughly handsome face, I feel the words bubbling up in my throat. Words that he’s obviously not ready to hear. Words guaranteed to make him run, snowstorm or no. I can’t say them. Not now. Not until we’ve played out our seduction and made the case for turning our couple into a throuple.
I swallow the words down. I swallow Derek’s cock down, too.
He sifts his fingers through my hair and pulls it back from my face. If I thought about it, I’d have put on some red lipstick, but there’s something pleasing about this. No artifice, not really. Just us. I take my time, enjoying myself as I explore him. The reminder that we’re not in a rush makes it hotter this time. I can play with him until we both are ready to explode.
Derek gives my hair a tug. He’s breathing hard already, his eyes glazed as they watch his cock disappear into my mouth. “Fuck, Emma. You love this as much as I do, don’t you?”
I hum my assent and stroke my hands over his thighs. He’s so big. It makes me shake with need and I don’t bother to resist snaking my hand between my thighs to stroke my clit. This holiday has made me oversexed and I’m going to be sore for a fucking week, but I don’t care. It’s worth it. It’s more than worth it. If this ends when the snowstorm does, I want to know I didn’t miss a moment of it.