Page 22 of One Night, Two Holidays

While Jack’s technique has improved—he can get a solid spin now—his luck has not. We go back and forth: he hits three Shins, losing almost all his gelt to the pot, while I get two Heys and, finally—a Gimmel, taking them all.

Jack doesn’t hesitate. He gets off the couch and stands in front of me.This is it, I realize as I look up at him, past the smooth contours of his chest and his incredibly broad shoulders.We’re doing this. His blue eyes are dark with desire, his brown hair mussed from running his hands through it. My own body is a tight knot of lust. I’m desperate to see what he looks like when he loses control—and to be the one responsible for it.

“Happy Hanukkah,” I whisper to myself, my fingers fumblingto unbutton his pants. I slide them down, and Jack kicks them the rest of the way until he’s standing before me in boxer briefs covered in reindeer.

I flutter my fingers over the boxers and glance up, asking for permission to reach inside, but Jack shakes his head and grumbles, “Hand me the dreidel.”

“But…” I’m prepared to give this man the blow job of his life, and he wants to finish the stupid game?

“Dreidel,” he says, almost a command.

I hand him the plastic toy, and he pretends to spin it through the air, holding onto the stem and placing it very deliberately on the table, Gimmel side up.

He doesn’t bother with the coins; just reaches down and pulls me up so I’m standing in front of him. “May I?”

I nod, and Jack reaches for my tank top. Despite the rush we’re both in, he takes his time, sliding it up and over my head.

His breath hitches when he sees me in the black lace bra I put on earlier in hopes we’d end up right here. Then, even though it’s technically my turn now, Jack picks up the dreidel and pretends to spin it on his palm before holding it up for me to see.

“Gimmel,” he says. I arch my back, drawing Jack’s eyes toward my chest. He bites his lower lip and brings his hands up, cupping my breasts, feeling their fullness before sliding his hands around to the clasp of my bra. He teases at it for an excruciatingly long moment before dropping his hands to my waist.

I let out a huff of disappointment, but then he slips his fingers under the waistband of my leggings. Heat travels up my legs, and my breath grows ragged as he lowers them carefully, like he’s unwrapping a present.

When the leggings are off, and we’re both in nothing but our underwear, Jack looks up at me, hunger in his eyes.

“Now what?” he asks.

CHAPTER 15

December 25, 6:53 pm

JACK

“That depends on what you want,” Nessa says.

She’s standing in front of me, looking mouth-wateringly delicious, completely bare except for a black lace bra and matching panties—scratch that; a matching black lacethong,I realize as I sneak a quick look over her shoulder at her backside.

“It’s not obvious whatIwant?” I glance down at myself; I’m so hard I could probably dent a tin can.

All through the game, I tried to remind myself that I’m not going to rush this, that I want more than one night together. But I’m now finding it impossible to even remember why. Very little blood supply to my brain at the moment.

Not that I’m complaining—it’s crystal clear Nessa wants me as much as I want her. She reaches out a finger and trails it down the bulge in my boxers like she did before, but now I’m so sensitive my hips jerk involuntarily. Somehow, I’m on the verge of coming and I haven’t even touched her yet.

Copying her movement, I reach out with one finger andtrace down one bra strap, across the cup of her bra, then let my finger dip into her cleavage. Goosebumps spread across her skin, and she sucks in a shaky breath. Then I hook my finger around the tiny bow in the center of her bra and tug her toward me.

In response, she hooks a finger inside the waistband of my boxers and gives me a little tug closer. Now we’re inches apart, her chin tilted up to meet my eyes, her pupils dilated and her cheeks pink.

“Your move,” I say in a rough voice, and she nods. We both seem to have agreed that we’re playing a new game now.

Slowly, she slides her hand inside my boxers and wraps it around me, heat and softness and a sharp wave of pleasure. My heart pounds. I’m aching with the effort of holding back.Keep it together, I order myself.Do not fuck this up.

It’s my move now, so I slide my hands up her ribcage to cup her breasts, feeling her nipples harden as my thumbs drift over the lacy cups of her bra.

She lets out a low moan that somehow makes me even harder, and I lean down and kiss her, rough and urgent, letting my hands roam where they’ve been wanting to go, sliding them down to her ass, up into her hair, kissing her deeper and deeper until her breaths are quick and shallow and desperate.

“My turn,” she says, pulling away.

And before I even have a chance to think, she’s kneeling at my feet and sliding down my boxers just enough so she can take me in her mouth.

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