“God, tell me you didn’t have to ask Reed for the club information to get these,” Gray groans, already reaching out to run his thumbs over my nipples. The skin responds to the cool of the office and the warmth of his touch, the exposed parts of my areolas rippling into pink gooseflesh. “He’ll never stop giving me shit.”
“I didn’t call Reed, and I was just kidding about calling the club. Thank you, Amazon.”
Gray bends over, circling one of the pasties with the tip of his tongue.
My fingernails sink into his shoulders, and my head rolls back.
It never gets old, Gray’s touch. I never tire of it. Sometimes when I wake up in our room in the morning and he’s still sleeping—still snoring, actually, the man sounds like a dinosaur—I get that same excited flutter in my tummy that I used to get when we were kids.
He’s mine. All mine. Ever since last Christmas party, there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by when he hasn’t gone out of his way to remind me he’s all in. Last Winter, he officially took the assistant coaching job at Little Haven High. Last Summer, he helped me start construction on the new wing of the inn. Last Fall, he rolled over in bed one morning, took my hand, and slipped a simple, ruby ring over the fourth finger. He didn’t need to say a word, and neither did I.
But my favorite thing he did was last Spring. When he planted three cherry blossom trees in the front yard of my inn, their tiny rose buds promising fruit the same color as my new ruby ring.
The whole world could see those, even if they couldn’t see the tree on his chest from before. Gray wanted the city, the state, the country to know I was his, and he was mine. I’ve never been more excited about a little extra lawn work.
Gray’s fingers are at the edges of my left pasty now, forcing my attention back to the moment. He peels back the edge, lips parting in a satisfied O as he gets his first view of my hidden nipple. It’s already growing hard and pointed, begging for him to take it in his mouth.
“You have to call me Mrs. Claus the whole time we fuck,” I manage through gritted teeth. “And you have to sayho ho howhen you come.”
Gray springs back, eyes narrowing. “That better be more sarcasm.”
I grin and wink, but say nothing. He dives forward, snarling as he buries his face between my breasts. I break into giggles, unable to contain my girlish excitement.
The door opens then, and I squeal, jumping forward to hug my naked breasts to Gray’s body.
“Finally,” someone moans. “How much cider did you have, Mariel? I don’t want to take advantage—”
“God Almighty, Eugene, I’m sober as a nun. Get in the office already.”
Miss Hales and Mr. Bates tumble through the doors. Miss Hales’s shirt is already half-undone and hanging off, her wrinkled hand firmly cupping Mr. Bates’s stiffy.
“Um,ocupado?” Gray says, suppressing a laugh.
Miss Hales screams, one hand going to her chest.
I smack Gray’s shoulder. “You’re going to give her a heart attack!”
Miss Hales is slumped against the office wall, Mr. Bates tucking her hair back and muttering soothing noises. I hold my tits with one arm and scramble to pull my shirt on with the other, holding the fabric halves together as I get off Gray’s lap to help.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Miss Hales assures us, batting at me to step back. “But… but a little CPR wouldn’t hurt…”
She eyeballs Mr. Bates, and one spidery-lashed eye slowly winks.
“Oh my God.” Gray laughs.
Mr. Bates turns back to me, seeming to only just realize I’m half-nude. His cheeks turn the color of eggplant.
“I’m so sorry.” He shoves his hands in his pockets to hide his erection, and shuffles his feet as he looks at the ground. “We didn’t realize…”
“Third key down on the rack behind the counter,” I say.
“Third key…?”
“Guest room three is unoccupied,” I tell them. “But unfortunately, this officeis. Take the key and promise me you’ll erase all memories of my boobs.”
“I’ll make sure of that,” Miss Hales purrs from my side, clearly fully recovered.
“Get out!” Gray urges them with another laugh.