Page 46 of Baby, It’s Hot Inside

I go to stand near the tree and yeah, stare at her curves that are perfectly highlighted in those candy striped leggings. Her thick thighs look luscious, and that plump fucking ass looks so bitable.

“Hey! Are you actually staring at my ass right now?”

I lift my eyes to hers. “I stare at your ass whenever I can, baby doll.”

“It’s like I woke up in reverse land.”

“Right, because you believe some lunacy about me not liking you,” I say.

She wiggles a finger at me. “I know that you broke Matt and I up and that you told him I wasn’t good enough for him.”

“Is that what that fucker told you?”

Her brows raise. “Yes, that’s exactly what he told me.”

I shake my head. “No.”

She goes back to hanging some of the smaller, more delicate ornaments at the higher spots on the tree. I stare down at her body as she reaches on her tip toes—even on the step-stool—to reach the top spots.

“What in the actual fuck are you wearing on your feet?” I ask staring at her bow covered socks or whatever they are.

“They’re my Christmas slippers. Now get on with your story.”

“They’re ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Goddamn you’re sexy with that mouth, Jackie. That was always the problem. I’m the one that wanted to ask you out first, but Matt beat me to it. You were clearly into him, and I understood. He was the bigger man on campus. I was newer to town. That fucker used to play “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield every time I got in his car.”

She gasps and spins on the stool. When she does, she loses her balance and wobbles. I grab her legs and pull her off the stool, and she slides down my body. But then she keeps sliding because of those stupid slippers that are apparently not slip-proof. She looks up at me where her head is now near my stomach area.

“That was super smooth,” she says.

“It’s your stupid, ugly socks.”

She sucks in a breath. “You take it back. I love these.” She tries to move, but clearly her sweater is caught on something. “Oh shit.”

“What’s the matter?”

“My sweater snagged on your zipper, I think.”

Just her talking about my zipper has me semi-hard because I turn into a teenage boy around this woman.

“The easiest thing to do is for me to just shimmy,” she says, all the while doing exactly that—shimmying out of her sweater.

“Oh fuck, don’t do that.”

She stands up, her sweater dangling from the front of my pants. Her full tits are encased in what looks to be a bra spun from candy cane sugar. It’s pink and white, delicate lace with a hint of sparkle, and it is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

“I just need to get it unhooked now,” she says.

“Your bra?” I ask with a hard swallow.

“No, silly. My sweater.” Then she falls to her knees.

“Fuck, Jackie,” I groan.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asks, looking up at me with those wide brown eyes of hers. The small smattering of freckles that play across her nose and cheeks make her look innocent. It adds to the fantasy.