Page 25 of The Holiday Hookup List
“So what changed?”
My cheeks grow warm and I look away. “It turns out I was trying to make a long-term relationship work with my least compatible sign. That wasn’t enough to make me a believer, but I like to be informed, so I did a few sessions with a relationship astrologist to learn about what I should be looking for going forward.”
He seems to digest that information, then nudges my foot with his under the table. “Is Capricorn a good match?”
A slow smile spreads over my face. “Pretty good.Ifthere’s open communication.”
“You mean like this?” He leans his elbows on the table, pinning me with a direct look. “I adore the taste of your cunt when you come on my face.”
The air backs up in my lungs. I stare for a long moment, then burst out laughing. It’s that or leap across the table and tear his pants off. “Duly noted.”
He shrugs and chews another bite of steak. “Just communicating.”
My pulse throbs as I watch him eat. His words have done the job. I’m not hungry for food anymore.
Fuck it.I push back my chair. Round the table. Straddle his lap. And kiss him.
Our mouths are salty and I don’t care, because his hands are roaming my body, cupping, caressing, stroking.
He breaks the kiss to murmur against my mouth, “They’re in the bedroom.”
“What are?” I’m too busy trying to suck on his bottom lip. He groans and grasps my waist, grinding me down on his erection through the layers of our clothes.
His answer comes out as a scratchy hiss. “The nipple clamps.”
“Oh. Right.” Shit, I’d completely forgotten. Lightheaded, I climb off his lap and pull him to his feet. He leads me to his bedroom, which is stylishly decorated in slate blue and dove gray, before showing me the array of clamps spread out on his dresser.
I gulp, both at the thought of wearing them, and from the anticipation of seeing them on Gideon.
“Well.” I pick up a clamp that looks like a silicone-tipped tweezer. “Shall we put those best practices to use?”
With a wolfish smile, he pulls me into another kiss.
It turns out I am not the biggest fan of nipple clamps. Gideon’s gentle, and we keep up open communication, but I much prefer his mouth on my tits.
That said, the sight of Gideon with nipple adornments is a turn-on, especially since he picks ones that have a thin chain connecting them.
We try to time our orgasms with the moment we’re supposed to remove the clamps, but it doesn’t work, and having a phone timer ticking away the seconds stresses us out. By the time we’re done, we both admit our nipples are sore.
“Two stars for wearing the clamps,” Gideon says, lying flat on his back. Then he glances over at my reddened areolas, now decorated with his spend. “Five stars for the visual, though.”
“Ditto. That little chain looked incredible on you.” I lean over him and soothe his tender nips with my tongue. “Have you ever thought of piercing them?”
“No. Haveyou?”
“Once or twice.”
He gets a speculative gleam in his eye, clearly imagining it.
And because it’s on my mind, I add, “I forgot you pierced your ears senior year.”
He seems surprised by the comment, and then his expression turns rueful as he runs his fingers through my hair. “A short-lived act of teenage rebellion. And maybe a desperate need to hint at my burgeoning queerness.”
I raise my head from his chest to better look him in the eye. “How did that go over?”
He lets out a tired sigh. “Oh, the usual. My father threatened to disinherit me.”
“For piercing your ears?” I stroke Gideon’s lobes, noting the slight indentation in the center.
