Page 9 of Kidnapped for Christmas

Arnie blows out a heavy breath and frustration knits back into his brows.

“Come on, get in bed. I like knowing you’re here with me.”

He stares at me for a long while then stands and rounds to the opposite side of the mattress. Slowly, his large body lays back on the bed. And for the first time all night, I’m right where I want to be.

Chapter Four

Arnie

I lay awake, staring at the ceiling fan as it whips in circles.

Grace has been moaning for the last two minutes. It’s a soft sound that’s painfully loud. I contemplate leaving the room again, but I know any movement on the bed will wake her and she needs her sleep.

She moans again, this time turning to her side, lobbing her arm over my chest. Her round and large breast springs free from the top of my flannel. Her hard nipple pokes through, delicate in the dim light of the moon.

My cock springs to life and my heart begins to race. I need to touch her.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

Grace is twenty years younger. Not only that, but her mother is my friend. I can’t mess around with a friend’s daughter. Not in any world is that okay.

I blow out a heavy breath and roll away from her, hoping to catch reprieve, but the movement prompts Grace to move as well, and within seconds of my turn, she’s against my back with her nipple poking me again. A soft sigh escapes and echoes into my ear.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I’m going to lose it.

I should try to wake her.

Drawing in a deep breath, I let it out slowly and turn back. “Grace, I think you’re having a bad dream.”

I shake her lightly. “Come on, wake up.”

Her eyes slowly open as the back of her hand swats across her face. She’s more groggy than awake.

Her throat clears, and she sits up from the bed, her tit still out.

Fucking hell. This isn’t getting any better.

I nod toward her, gesturing as politely as possible to let her know her breast is still out, but she’s not fully awake yet.

Her response is to lean toward me. She climbs on top of my frame, straddling my waist.

“Grace.” I say her name again and again. “Grace… it’s okay. You’re okay. Wake up.”

She moans again, leaning into my chest before sinking her lips against mine.

Fuck! I want to touch her. I want to take her against me and give her all that I have. I want to touch her small body and feed my cock to her like a fucking psycho, but this isn’t permission to do that.

I turn my head away from her kiss and say her name again. “Come on, Grace. You’re still dreaming. Wake up.”

Her hips scrub against my hard cock, back and forth, over and over.

I shouldn’t be hard… but I am.Rock fucking hard.

She giggles and moans again, her eyes closed. She’s somewhere between sleep and reality. I wonder who she’s with, who she’s thinking about as she touches me.

My palms itch to reach out for her, desperate to scrub across her soft skin.

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