Page 74 of Winter Wishlist
Otherwise… je ne comprends pas.
Me:
You’re bad.
Henri:
Moi? I'm adorable.
Me:
Fine...
lèche moi la chatte.
Henri:
There she is. Our good fucking girl.
Reid:
Jesus...
I’m already hard, sugar.
Three days turned into three weeks, which in turn glided smoothly into three months.
Now, three years on from that fateful moment on the floor in a bookshop, I can’t help but smile to myself. Life has dramatically changed for the better ever since that day we first met, that Christmas, the morning in the parking lot when Henri and Reid followed after me.
We shared breakfast and our hearts that day, occupying a booth while talking for hours. Discovering all the minutiae of life that we hadn’t necessarily had time or reason to delve into in the three days prior. Exchanging stories—our individual wants and wishes laid bare—over endless cups of coffee, plates of crispy bacon, and stacks of waffles bigger than my head.
That day was our chance to lay it all on the line. My two men knew I needed reassurance, to learn about each other in a way that didn’t involve fooling around.
Essentially, we’re living out the world’s longest and sweetest date. One that just… never ended.
Every time we drive past that diner nowadays, we make a point to stop in, even if it’s purely for a tray of to-go coffees. It’s a cute little ritual the three of us indulge in. A footnote in our less-than-conventional love story.
I turn the page of the book resting in my lap. Truth be told—and apologies to the four dragon shifters and their human they’ve laid claim to—I’m not focusing on their adventures. An impish grin dances on my lips when I hear the sound of Reid’s truck pulling up outside. Giving a little glance around, the scene is set perfectly. Our Christmas tree is decorated, fairy lights give off a warm twinkling glow, and over by the massive windows showing the mountains bathed in a blanket of indigo and stars, burning logs pop and crack with orange flames.
The front door swings open briefly, joined by their footfall and voices carrying across the room. Stella has been fast asleep,commanding her favorite position as fireplace supervisor, but lifts her head and thumps her tail on the floor in a sleepy greeting, before returning to dreamland. I keep my back turned to them, knowing they’ll only be able to see the top of my head from where I’m settled in this position. Reid and Henri know I’m a creature of habit, having developed a love affair with this particular corner of the couch over the past three years.
“Apparently, there’s this sexy little thing who works in the local bookstore.”
I laugh as my cowboy’s heavy footsteps draw nearer. “Oh, really?”
“Unfortunately, she’s finished work for the day, so I’m wondering if you can help me instead? I’m searching for a book… something about tentacles and being stuffed full in every hole?” Reid chuckles, a warm, rich sound that travels straight to my nipples and clit.
Any second now…
His massive frame walks around the end of the couch farthest from me and then stops dead. Judging by the expression on his face, my guy doesn’t know where to look first.
I’ve gone all out. Wearing nothing but Reid’s favorite of my shortest, flounciest skirts, and to add to the effect, I even borrowed his reading glasses to perch on the end of my nose. While I took forever to decide whether to leave my hair falling in loose waves or not, I happened to catch sight of a red satin ribbon as I was turning the lights on the tree earlier. My decision was made in a blink to steal it in order to tie a high ponytail with a silly over-the-top bow. Although I don’t think much, if any, attention is being paid to my choice of hairstyle. Reid’s gaze can’t stop ricocheting between my bare breasts and the long stockings with red bows pulled up above my knees.
“Fuck me.” He coughs and scrubs a heavy palm over his mouth.
Henri appears beside him, eyes widening ever so slightly in appreciation, as his hungry gaze simply devours me from head to stockinged-toe. “Ma petite chérie. At least give the old man some warning.Quelle surprise. You’ll give him a heart attack being a perfect little slut like this.”
“Can I help you boys with something?” I adjust the glasses and tilt my head to one side, trying my hardest to stay in character.Bookstore hoe, at your service.“Is there a title in particular you’re looking for? You’ve left it until the last minute, shopping this late on Christmas Eve.”
