Page 37 of Missiletoe
“Bunny, are you okay?” The improbable man weaved through several piles of projects without stepping on a single one. I ran forward to meet him and we both stopped in front of my bed. When we reached each other, he held out a large hand, cupped my face, and said, “I was so worried earlier when I couldn’t hear you crying anymore.”
I closed my eyes and put a hand over his, pressing my face into his touch.
“No one hurt you, did they?”
I shook my head mutely.
He was saying everything I’d want my Paris to say, but his dick wasn’t out, so that meant there was a good chance he was real. If I was going to hallucinate about Paris, my mind wouldn’t be shy about it; he and I would already be fucking.
I wasn’t sure how to play the situation.
Once I interact with my hallucinations, they pop like soap bubbles because my mind catches on to the fact that I’m awake and not dreaming. But as I said before, I usually know when I’m having hallucinations, and that moment didn’t feel like one at all.
The Paris before me was warm, and real, and felt like something that was all mine. I wanted to interact with him more than anything, but if he wasn’t real, it would break my heart to glomp him and have him vanish.
Paris’s forehead pinched with worry, and he kneeled down in front of me, continuing to hold my face. “Bunny?”
“You’re not going to disappear, are you? If I talk to you more? I mean, I know I already said hello and you're touching me and stuff, and my hallucinations become fragile and pop after I interact with them and you haven’t popped yet, but…” I trailed off because Paris was giving me the most heartbreakingly beautiful smile in the world.
“I’m real.” Paris stood up, held his arms out in a sort oflook at how real I amsort of way, and turned around in a circle to show off his hotness from all angles.
I was convinced because I didn’t think I could have hallucinated the little mole peeking out at me when his sweater rode up for a split-second.
When he stopped turning and stood still before me, I realized he was towering over me like the hot main lead in a romance novel, so my body acted accordingly, and I had to fight not to swoon like the virginal maiden in said romance novel.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it extra hard just to make sure Paris was telling me the truth. Then I took a peek around him to make sure there was a decent amount of bed behind him to land on and gave him a little shove. He sat down with a bewilderedoof,and I climbed into his lap and planted my mouth on his.
Hey, if hewasa hallucination, I wanted to get my money’s worth. And if he wasn’t, then he had to pay the Vix’s Bedroom Tax. It was a new law I’d just instated, and I was planning to christen it with Paris’s face for as long as he’d let me.
It turned out to be a satisfyingly long amount of time.
I braced my hands on his broad shoulders, and his massive, Disney prince hands held me by my waist to help me grind against him exactly the way I wanted to. Every move I made was answered by a corresponding movement of his. Like we’d choreographed it. Like we’d been made to touch each other.
When I made to pull away for a breather, Paris wound a hand in my hair and pulled me back down, and I forgot about silly things like air and the need to have some of it.
I mean, I was getting a little air, right? That should be enough for any person in my situation.
As long as Paris allowed me to use him as a bed if I passed out, I was happy, and we’d already established that he was okay with me sleeping on him earlier.
“Mmmm, this is even better than sleeping on you,” I said between kisses. “Do you think I could fit inside your sweater with you? It seems a bit snug, but I’m willing to try.”
Paris’s chest rumbled under my hands as he laughed. “I’m so glad.”
He hadn’t said no, so I started working my fingers under the hem of his sweater. “Glad about what?”
“Glad that I wasn’t imagining this connection with you. I was a little afraid I would scare you when you saw me, but I had to see you, bunny.”
My hands paused what they were doing. “Yes. I am yourbunny. That feels like exactly what I am. Please continue calling me that. And I don’t know how you got in here, Paris, but you are very welcome to stay as long as you want.” I stroked a well-muscled section of his abs that was especially welcome in my room just to make sure he got the point.
“You don’t think this is going too fast?”
“Life is short, and so am I. If I want something, I have to strike while the iron is hot.” I gave an experimental wiggle on Paris’s lap, and it made his eyes do interesting things.
Paris pulled me close and buried his face in my neck, then took a deep breath and muttered something that sounded like, “So perfect for me.”
My hands went back to molesting their way up the inside of his sweater. It was a lovely place to explore, and I planned on moving in as soon as he gave me enough room to get in there. Fuck Gareth’s office,thiswas my new napping spot.
“Is it too soon to ask you to move in?” I asked.
