Damn. I never could stay mad at her. I want you happy too. Love you. Merry Christmas.
I throw myself down on the bed and quietly groan into the pillow. I still can’t believe I opened that barely-there nightgown in front of Gavin. He probably thinks I’m a stalker and had this all planned out.
I grab the offensive nightie off the bed and go to the joined bathroom. A hot shower and bed. Maybe after that I’ll be ready for tomorrow and another day of spending time with Gavin.
I take my time in the shower and then lie back down in the bed. I never did thank Alison for the nightgown. It is a nice one. I run my hands across the smooth material on my stomach and down to my thighs. Of course, I’m sure women in Montana need more than this flimsy material to keep them warm.
My thoughts instantly go to a certain military man, knowing he could keep me hot all night long. I groan and cover my face with my arm.
I lie in the bed for what seems like hours, but I know I’m not going to be able to sleep.
I get up and tiptoe to the door, opening it quietly. All the lights are off in the living room, and when I look toward Gavin’s bedroom door, the light seems to be off there.
I’ll just heat up some hot milk, and maybe that will help me sleep.
I walk as quietly as possible to the kitchen and with the light from my phone and the moon shining in the window, I search for a pan. Luckily, I know where to look, considering I made spaghetti earlier.
I pour milk into the pan and turn the stove on before leaning back on the counter by the sink. I cross my arms over my chest and rub my arms up and down. I definitely should have grabbed a sweater or something.
The milk starts to warm, and I turn to the drawer with the cooking spoons. I have my hand wrapped around one when the lights flip on. I freeze with my eyes clenched shut. Please tell me this isn’t happening.
Chapter 8
Gavin
I can’t sleep. All I can think about is the soft material of that nightgown and the feel of Cassie in my arms when I held her.
My cock is so hard I feel as if I’m about to explode. I can take care of it easily. With my dick in my hand, I stroke myself once, then twice when I hear footsteps outside my bedroom door. I lift up in the bed and listen closely, and noises from the kitchen have me on my feet.
I fight with myself all of two minutes before I decide to go and check on her. She’s not used to the house or the kitchen; the only hospitable thing to do is to help her. I pull on a pair of jeans, open the bedroom door, and walk down the hall. As soon as I get to the kitchen door, I open it and flip on the light.
Fuck me!
There’s matching fucking panties too. How did I miss that?
The black nightie is short, showing off her lush ass.
Like a fuckin’ wet dream, Cassie is bent over the counter in the kitchen, looking in a drawer for something, and I’m standing here about to shoot a load into my jeans.
Without another thought, I walk across the kitchen and put my hands on each side of her, caging her into the counter. She still hasn’t moved, and I know I’ve shocked her.
My breath is heavy as I whisper her name. “Cassie.”
Her head drops between her shoulders, and her knuckles are turning white from the hard hold she has on the spoon in her hand. “Yeah?” I hear her murmur.
Her voice is thick and filled with emotion, but she still doesn’t move. “Baby, I’m sorry,” I tell her as I lean in and press my body to her backside. Her head raises, and she gasps, her hips automatically flexing toward me. My bulge fits nicely right between her plump ass cheeks. I pull her hair to the side, exposing her long neck. I want to taste her—hell, I want to fuck her so bad I can taste it, but not yet. Not until I have her permission.
“Can I kiss you?”
She looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes hooded. She gives me one nod before I have her hair wrapped around my fist and I’m pulling her face toward me so I can taste her lips.
She turns toward me, her arms going around my neck in a tight embrace as if she’s holding on for dear life.
I heft her into my arms and groan when my cock rubs against her inner thighs. We barely get out of the kitchen before she’s struggling to get out of my arms.