She’s been just as responsive physically but nowhere near as liberal verbally. She feels it, and she’s been feeling it, and that’s what I’m clinging to at this point. Whitney was thinking about our first time together the night she pushed the hair away from my face as we did dishes. I’d bet my fucking life on it.
She’s avoided me long enough. Tonight. Tonight we will have the conversation she doesn’t want to have. I will get through to her.
It’s going down tonight.
Two hours later…
Eggnog Moose Mugs consumed—5
Words exchanged with Whitney—0
One eye closed, I focus on the mouthy blonde prey between the handle of my moose cup. Once I have her in my crosshairs, I rise to my feet as she moves toward the kitchen. Going in, I follow the tell-tale jingle of the bells on the tips of her elf slippers.
Opening the fridge, I pull out the remainder of the cheese ball and sense Eli behind me, his cologne wafting into my nose as he steps in close, his chest brushing my back.
“I think it’s time we had a lil chat,” he slurs.
Turning, I gaze up at him as he crowds me against the open fridge, eyes narrowed and glossy.
“You like geasy hands? I can get dirty, and you know,” he draws out, “but if you needs a remind you, I’ll fuck you right now against dez condiments.” He plucks a bottle next to my head. “against this habanero zauce.”
“Whoa, tiger, I don’t think my parents would appreciate that.”
He grips my chin, squishing my lips together with his fingers.
“Pet you’d appreciate it.”
I pull my jaw from his grip. “Maybe instead of a lil talk, you might want to think about a lil nap?”
“You needs a man, Whitney?” He pounds his chest with his fist. “I’ll be your man. I cut the wood, make pantakes, build you a snowman e’ry day.” He fists a bundle of raw carrots from the second shelf, “with a fucking carrot nose, and it’ll be the bess one. You tink greasy hands would do that for you?” He shakes his head adamantly, nearly headbutting me as he leans in, his lips a breath away. “No, he would not.”
“Eli, you’re piss drunk,” I say, wrestling the victimized carrots from his palm and putting them back on the shelf.
“Maybe,” he sloppily bobs his head. “But I know what you mean.”
“I’m not sure you do.”
“I fucked your hand in the shower dis morning, for you.” He belts out his next words proudly, making me jump. “AND YESTERDAY!”
Eyes wide, I glance around and see we’re relatively safe from little ears. “Eli, maybe we shouldn’t be admitting this in the kitchen.” He leans in, grabbing the sides of the fridge doors for balance, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you still trim your pussy in a strip? I’m fucking dying to know. I loved the tickled of it on my gnose. I loved eating you.” He somehow manages to lick his lip seductively as heat climbs my spine. “I’m hungry now.” He lifts his chin with his next declaration. “I can make Tiny Tim come in sithy seconds.”
Unable to help my laugh, he proudly lifts one side of his mouth.
“Yep, you’re feelsing me,” he leans in. “Let’s go be alone.”
“I’m not sure you’re conveying what you really want to say.”
“I don’t care who knows.” He waves a dismissive hand. “They see how bad me want you.” He nods over his shoulder. “C’mon, gab the habenro sauze.”
“I’ll pass because that sounds pretty painful.”
His eyes rake over me. “You know what I can do?”
“I’m pretty sure your brain is telling you anything is possible right now.”
He stretches his arms out against the small cart island behind him. Shoulders hitched next to his ears, he manages to steady himself on the rolling cart and lifts his brows. “I’m going to give you a real man now. Vermy merry Christmas.”
“Yeah? Great. You seem to be the gift that keeps on giving.”
“S’go, baby, I got sorry to do, make you happy,” he says, again nodding over his shoulder toward the den just as the cart begins to roll.
By the time I reach him, he’s veering off and on the verge of more brain damage.
“Oh, shit,” Thatch says as he rushes to help me just before Eli wipes out. We manage to get him standing as Eli greets Thatch. “I’ve got this.” He nudges Thatch and nods my way as if he’s about to seal the deal with me, and Thatch chuckles. “How much did you drink, man?”