Page 33 of Cooped Up for Christmas

“Did you?” My smiled widened. My body warmed.

“Um hmm,” he said through a kiss.

“But we’re in the storage shed.” Again, only right to mention it.

“And everyone else is…somewhere else. Sounds perfect to me.”

And even though there were bunks in there somewhere in this hoarder’s paradise, we didn’t bother to look for them. We made love on a blanket on the floor.

It was hot, hard, and fast, and absolutely satisfying.

There was something just raw and savage about fucking on the floor. But this was more than just that. There was another level to our desperation, something that had nothing to do with sexual satisfaction at all. It was a connection of souls. And it was fabulous.

Still, when it was all over, and we had recovered and dressed, I had to remind him of what we’d agreed. Or maybe I said it to remind myself. “That was awesome, but remember. This is not a thing.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but it seemed that his smile faltered, but no. There it was, just as bright. “Right, Vic,” he said before he kissed me long and hard. “Not a thing.”

But then he winked. And, as he walked away, he whistled.

* * *

Because the guests were, shall we say, in our faces all day, we had to take shifts or go insane. I made the schedule for my staff, which meant a late dinner for me. I sat down with a heavy sigh to a plate of ribs and baked beans Noel had made in the crockpot. They were surprisingly good.

I sat there, alone in the little kitchen, just enjoying my meal, and the warm wet snout on my leg. Okay, maybe I didn’t enjoy that part a whole lot, but Mason was starting to grow on me. When he wasn’t growling at me over his girlfriend.

When Coop wandered in, I frowned at him. “Your dog is leaking.” I gestured to my damp slacks.

“Yeah. He does that,” Coop said on a chuckle. “What are you doing?”

I waved at my plate. “Dinner.”

“May I join you?”

“Please.” I liked the quiet, but he was far more entertaining than my own brain. As much as I liked being alone, I liked being with him better. We chatted for a while. Just random, nothing talk. He told me about his neighborhood, and his neighbors, and even shared some of the adventures he’d had in the past fifteen years.

Eventually, we came around to the people here.

“You sure have an interesting staff,” he said.

I nearly spewed a mouthful of baked beans. “You can say that again.” I leaned in. “Is it me? Or are kids getting younger these days? I don’t remember being that flaky when I was eighteen.”

He shrugged. “I work with a lot of younger folks in my business. In fact, I’m the dinosaur. There are always some guys who come through the training program who just don’t pass. I mean, people’s lives are on the line. I can’t have one mistake. But for every flaky wannabe thrill chaser, there are a bunch of bright, engaged kids who just want a chance to learn the ropes.”

“You’re saying I should make more of an effort to mentor them.” Hell, you couldn’t teach someone my job. It was pure instinct.

“Or relate to them. Either works.”

I snorted my affront. “I relate to them.”

“Do you know their last names?”

“What?” Why was that relevant?

“Or where they grew up? Or if they’re single? Missing someone?”

“In case you didn’t notice, we don’t actually have time to sit down and chat.”

“Some effort would be nice.”