Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
She opens her mouth, I’m confident to rebuke me with the fact that we’re just fuck buddies, but then snaps it shut just as quickly.
Kiera’s eyes cut over to her Christmas tree—sadly, something I had not noticed on the few times I’ve been here—then back to me. “I have a ton of stuff to do today as it’s the first free day I’ve had in ages. I’ve got to get all the decorations put away, clean the house, do laundry and go to the grocery store. So I don’t have time to fuck around.”
“Fuck around as in amazing sex or fuck around in like goofing off?” I ask for clarification.
“They’re both one and the same. I don’t have time, so if that’s what you want, I’m going to have to pass.”
I’m not dissuaded or turned off by that proclamation. Surprisingly, my offer to help is genuine, but it doesn’t mean I won’t try to seduce her later. “Let me help,” I say, giving her my most earnest Boy Scout smile.
She lets out a sigh of resignation. “Um… yeah, sure. Why not? I could use an extra pair of hands.”
I glance around and notice for the first time the actual décor. The walls are a cream color and the massive sectional sofa I fucked her on is gray leather. It sits in the middle of the room and faces a large-screen TV hanging over the fireplace, sleek glass end tables with chrome detailing at each end. Abstract art hangs on the walls. If I had to guess, this is all Drake’s style and not Kiera’s and I wonder if she’ll redecorate.
There’s a huge tree in the corner that I truly never even noticed on my other visits because my focus was on sex and as anyone can attest, that will often blind you to other things. There’s a large box beside it, which I’m assuming is to pack away lights and ornaments. There are wreaths, candles, figurines and all sorts of other holiday decorations all over the place, on tables, on the mantel and bookshelves, all of it a reminder of the festive season that has now passed. I took down my stuff last weekend.
“How about you strip the tree and I’ll start packing up all the figurines and such?” Kiera says. She gives me a quick course on how to wrap the glass ornaments to prevent breakage and we get to work.
For a solid half hour, it’s silent between us. Not a word of conversation, although Kiera actually hums Christmas tunes while she wraps various breakables. There are a million things I want to ask her and I did come over to talk, but her voice is beautiful and it lets a little of the holiday spirit linger.
I finish the tree first and help her tape up the boxes she’s already packed. Under her guidance, I insist on carrying all of it out to the garage where I stack them on custom-built shelving on one side.
Back in the house, I point to the tree. “Hold on to it so I can loosen the screws at the base. Are they still doing curbside pickup?”
“Fortunately, yes.”
That’s all I need to know. “Hold the top,” I repeat and she steps in. I drop down to the floor where I lie on my side to unwind the screws free of the tree trunk. “Got it secure?”
“Yeah… I’m good.”
I slip out from under the tree and nudge Kiera out of the way. Reaching in through the prickly branches, I lift the tree from the base and manage to wrangle it outside with help from Kiera guiding me out the front door. As soon as I step onto the driveway, a few snowflakes dust my face and I take in the change in the weather. The sky is filled with gray clouds and the wind is stirring. It’s fucking cold as hell since I didn’t bother with my coat, so I double-time it to the curb where I deposit the remnants of Christmas.
As I turn, I see Kiera on the porch watching me, her arms wrapped around herself to ward off the cold. The wind blows strands of hair around her face and I can see she’s freezing as she waits for me to return.
When I reach the top step, without hesitation and operating only on instinct, I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. She comes willingly, and for the moment, all the weirdness is gone, even though it’s slightly odd for me to be touching her in a non-sexual way.
Rubbing my hands briskly over her back, I ask, “Any reason you’re out here without a coat?”
She burrows into me. “You don’t have one.”
“Ahh,” I say with a chuckle. “But I have shoes on and you only have socks.” I release her, turn her toward the door and swat her on the ass playfully. “Get inside.”