Page 58 of The Holiday Grump
“Thank you,” I said.
I wasn’t dying of hypothermia, but the way he held me felt lifesaving. Like those hugs from the ladies in the crochet club, it flooded my body with warmth and faith.
He placed his hand on my thigh, then felt behind my knee again. “You’re too cold.”
I told myself he was assessing my temperature. Yet my inside flooded with warmth that had nothing to do with survival. I counted every part of my body touching his. That hand on my leg, his chest against my back, the arm draped around my shoulder. Each point of contact sizzled with energy.
We were so close, with our entire bodies pressed against each other. Every gust of breath against my neck sentconfusing signals to my core, making it throb in anticipation. I was feeling warmer now, and as blood returned to my extremities, it also flooded between my thighs, making me throb. Did he feel it? Did he want me at all? I only needed to arch my back a little, push my bottom back, and?—
I froze. That was definitely an erection. And not an emerging kind contained by his boxer shorts. This one poked me right between the butt cheeks, and I gasped.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I think I need new underwear.”
He shuffled back and tucked it away, then returned his arm around me.
“What happened to your underwear?” I asked, smothering a grin.
“It’s… not supportive.”
“Don’t tell me they’re hand-me-downs from your grandpa.”
He huffed a laugh. “Not used. But he did buy them for me. They’ve got a fly. It gets loose when they wear out.”
“A dick flap?”
“Exactly.”
I bit my lip. “If only you liked me, we could just skip the underwear. Might be fun.”
He stiffened.
“I like you,” he said roughly. “I thought that was obvious.”
Fear battled curiosity, but curiosity won. I rolled to face him. He angled his hips away, but his arm stayed at my waist.
“Nothing’s obvious with you,” I said. “Trust me.”
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Please. I’m feeling fragile.”
His eyes caught mine and held my gaze. “You’re incredibly sexy, so this is hard for me. Very hard.” He raised a meaningful eyebrow. “But I’m trying to do the right thing. Get you warm. Let you sleep.”
I yawned right on cue. “I don’t mind your erection. I think it’s cute.”
He scowled. “Erections are not cute. They’re inconvenient, embarrassing, and sometimes useful, but never cute.”
I giggled. “Yours is as cute as a button. If I had a ribbon, I’d hang it right now.”
His glare could have set wood on fire. “You’re warm enough if you can talk like that. There’s nothing button-like about me.”
“Oh no,” I teased. “I didn’t mean a small button. More like a giant novelty one you’d use at a game show.”
He harrumphed, then checked my fingers again. “Yeah. You’re better. Go to sleep.”
He started to pull away, but panic shot through me. “Don’t go.”
His voice strained. “I think it’s best we’re not under the same blanket. But if you want me to stay…”
