He accepted that the answer was a resounding yes when he stood in her apartment’s bathroom, unable to get comfortable no matter how many times he tried to adjust himself. He stood there for a few seconds before coming to terms with the fact he needed to find some way to relieve himself if he was going to be able to go back out there and help decorate a damn tree.

He felt like a damn pervert skulking around Cosima’s medicine cabinet before he found some lotion that wouldn’t leave his dick smelling like he’d gotten lost in Bath & Body Works. He let the embarrassment fade away as he wrapped his hand around his dick, moving from the base to his tip, squeezing with enough friction to force a tiny groan from his mouth as he called to memory the way Cosima’s body tensed and shook as the orgasm rolled over her. He stroked again, squeezing his head lightly as he recalled her quivering lips and the little moans she made. The strokes became harder, firmer as he tried to imagine how her pussy would feel clenching around him when he finally got to experience her. Tristan groaned, increasing his speed as he promised himself that he would pull more than those little sexy moans from her throat when it was his turn to please her. He intended to hear her scream his name until the walls shook from it when she fell apart. The thought pushed Tristan to a shuddering release that he needed a few seconds to recover from before he went about cleaning up any evidence that he’d jacked off in Cosima’s bathroom to fantasies of himself buried deep inside her.

He felt satiated, but his lust was a fully awakened beast. Tristan wanted to reconsider holding off, but he knew patience was a virtue, and Cosima was going to be the best Christmas gift he ever unwrapped.

11. Cosima

Chapter 11

Cosima

The Christmas tree lights illuminated the still-dark living room as Cosima snuggled more deeply into her blanket. She sipped at the cinnamon tea she’d brewed while the soothing sounds of Pentatonix’s Christmas album lulled her into a state of calm. What a whirlwind the last day and a half had been.

Christmas morning was at once everything she expected but nothing like she had planned. She had a few hours before she was set to meet Tristan at his house for the Christmas lunch they planned to have. She’d chosen to prepare mashed potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese, basmati rice, and a salad while Tristan got stuck with baked chicken, grilled salmon, and the cheesecake his mother had warned her not to let him talk his way out of.