So, why am I nervous? I don’t get nervous. I get what I want. I suck in my breath and rap lightly at the door.
And I wait.
The waiting gives me time to think, which is always dangerous. I wonder if Crosby misses being in his home on Christmas. He says he grew up around here, but now he lives in Silicon Valley with all the other gamer geeks. It makes me a little sad that he’s in a strange house for the holidays.
I’m almost feeling generous. Nurturing, even.
Gross. Why do I feel that?
The feeling passes as time goes on and he still doesn’t answer the door. After a few moments, I start to get pissed off. Nobody ever keeps me waiting.
But then, the door opens.
I’m not prepared for what I see.
Crosby’s dick. Wait, what?
Holy shit! Crosby’s dick!
Long and thick and gleaming in the soft light that floods in from the window in the corridor behind me.
It’s hard as fuck. Throbbing.
I force my eyes up to Crosby’s chest and then his face. He’s breathing hard, his facial expression is dark and wild.
Holy shit. He was jerking it in there. Was he thinking about me?
I gasp and try not to shout as I question him. “What are you doing? Who opens the door like that?”
His ragged voice comes out like a punch to the air. “To your first question: waiting for you. To your second question: a man who knows exactly what’s waiting for him on the other side.”
I cross my arms and shoot him an indignant look. “Well, I for one—”
“Shut up,” Crosby barks. “And get the fuck in here.”
Heat floods my body at his rough speech, and I do as he asks.
7
Crosby
I pull her close to me and consume her mouth in a deep, probing kiss as I kick the door closed behind her. Loudly. I don’t give a fuck if it wakes up the whole house.
Ridley’s body melts into mine. I step backward toward the bed and sit down on the end of it. She stands over me, pulling off her pajama top to reveal her magnificent breasts.
I want to touch them, massage them, tease her nipples, taste her skin, but then I notice she’s shaking.
“Hey,” I say. “Are you OK?”
Her mouth twists, unsure if she’s ready to say what she needs to say. “You’re only the second person I’ve ever had sex with.”
Ridley’s vulnerability in this moment is a very brief window. I know enough about her to know that. So I gotta move quickly if I’m going to jump through it before it closes.
“Whoever was here before me,” I say, cupping my hands around her soft breasts, “was a boy, and they don’t matter. I’m a man. That’s what you deserve.”
Ridley groans. I don’t know if it’s a response to my words or the touch of my hands.
“Stop it,” she hisses.