Page 27 of Mr. Winter
“How did you get there? Never mind. Is your big ass in my bed?”
“Yes, baby. I’m considering pulling out my dick and jerking off while I lie here.” She doesn’t look as phased as she should, and that somehow makes me harder. I slip my hand in my pants to rub my dick “Do you want to watch?”
“Yes. I’d like to watch you get me some clothes since you’re in my shit.”
I chuckled at her nonsense. “Okay. Right after...mmm...I relieve myself.” I press end and hang up on her. My dick is out by the time she calls back. “Yes?”
"Actually, I do want to watch."
“I thought so.” I switch my camera so I can watch her face as she watches me stroke my dick. Her reaction to sight is arousing especially when she squirms in bed and bites her lip. I love and hate how she makes me this horny guy with sex on the brain all of the time. I swear she cums when I do, and it makes me want her more. Too bad she is on time out for calling me a bitch during sex yesterday. She got a pass then because I needed to nut more than I needed to correct her, but I have time today.
I walk into the bathroom, grab a towel, and clean myself up. Then, I proceed into her closet, grab her overnight bag then look at her to wait for instructions.
“How the fuck do you know where everything is in my house?”
“Magic.” It’s technically true. I did use magic to be here just as much as Mack. “What do you want from your house?”
I go through grabbing the things she asks me to retrieve and pack the bag. Once that is over, I go into the kitchen and place the bag on the counter.
“I’m going to eat the rest of the honey yogurt. It’ll expire before the week is over,” I announce as I grab a spoon and the rest of the pint of yogurt.
I’m a few bites in when I realize she is quiet. I quirk an eyebrow to silently ask her what she wants as I eat.
“Who told you I had yogurt?”
“Your refrigerator.”
“So, inanimate objects tell you things?”
“Yeah. Just like your vibrator told me it’s about to die from overuse.”
Arden hangs up on me, but I’m laughing too hard to care.
* * *
Arden
I have a stalker. I’m convinced. A big ass, six-four stalker who fucks like a champ and cooks like a chef. Damn, I’m trapped by a whole mythological figure. The mysterious magical “boy” from the stories is an entire peeper.
Yet, when he lands on his balcony with those magnificent, blue eyes trained on me, pushes through the door, drops my bag on the floor, and pulls off his t-shirt without breaking eye contact, my brain screams. “Kidnap me, Daddy!” Ugh. I need to check myself into some counseling.
He’s on me in seconds, his palms cup my cheek as he looks me in the eyes with an unchecked passion so intense I almost cum.
“I want you so bad, right now, Arden,” he confesses with his lips a breath from mine.
Jack’s kiss is just as desperate when he traps me against the wall. Picking me up, he rubs his ever hard dick against my naked skin.
“My dick was hard thinking about you on the way home.”
I’m running my fingers through his hair when he bites the apex of my neck and shoulder.
“Yes, Jack. Now.”
He puts me down and steps back. I watch as he adjusts himself in his pants.
“Maybe later. Let’s have some breakfast.”
He disappears before I can say anything. Moving to the bed, I grab my phone and Google how to kill Jack Frost. When he doesn’t return. I look in my bag and pull out lounge clothes. I take my time getting dressed then perfecting my ponytail. I need a moment. At least he cooks. That’s the only silver-lining I can find on my way to the kitchen. I spin to look around when I don’t smell any food.
