Holiday Hijinks by Roxy Queen Page A

the summer we met. The way he bent me over. The feeling of the cool tile beneath my hands. The way his sweaty body felt against mine.
    Unnnnggnf .
    “Ten minutes,” I tell him, tugging at his belt. “And I want to come first.”
    He blesses me with a perfect, All-American smile. “Bedroom or floor?”
    “Surprise me.”
    *
    “Dear God.”
    He doesn’t make it to the bedroom or the floor.  Instead I’m splayed over the kitchen table like Thanksgiving dinner, knees up and spread. Carter? Well, his tongue glides across my most sensitive parts like he’s determined to lick the, um, ‘plate’ clean. He takes me to the edge, familiar with my body and sounds, until I get there , right there, and he pulls my hips forward, flings my legs over his shoulders and slams into me so hard my teeth rattle.
    “ Ooof,” I grunt, jutting my hips forward. He buries his face in my neck.
    “Come on,” he whispers, tickling my ear. He doesn’t need to say it. I’m already coming, legs shaking, hips squirming, toes curling in reaction. He smiles, smug and lovely, twisting his face in beautiful pain, emptying everything he’s got.
    “One,” he says, breathing hard and sweating harder, “minute to spare.”
    I prop up on my elbows and he hands me my pants. “I’m not sure how we’re going to get through Christmas without doing this.”
    Carter buckles his belt and gives me a wary look. “Never gonna happen Ruthie.”
    “It is going to happen and you agreed to it. Christmas with my family. No sex. No hand jobs, no blow jobs, no kissing, no nothing.”
    “You really think we can pull this off?”
    I move off the table and wrap my hands around Carter’s rock-hard waist. “We’ve got no choice. There is no way in hell I’m telling my parents about us. Dig deep and use that willpower I know you have.”
    “Oh, I know I can do it,” he says. “I’m the king of willpower. I’m just not so sure about you.”
    That makes two of us.
    *
    “Aunt Ruthie,” Josh says, as I pull up to the curb in front of the dorm. Yes, I’m his aunt and only 9 years older. My nephew is the same age as my boyfriend. It’s awkward and weird but that’s what happens when your sister is thirteen years older than you and you’re a cradle robber. “You’re late.”
    “My fault,” Carter says, getting out of the car to hel p him load the trunk. He offers Josh his hand. “I’m Carter, by the way.”
    “Oh, you’re my new best friend.  Nice to meet you,” he says, rolling his eyes behind his thick, black-framed glasses. Next to Carter he looks even shorter and nerdier than normal. Especially in the Pac-man shirt. He climbs in the backseat, iPad in his lap. “I can’t believe you think this is going to work. We look like the odd couple.”
    “ No you don’t. And it’s totally going to work,” I argue. “You’re both sophomores. You both go to Duke. We’re all going to the same place for the holidays. Why is this such a big deal?” I pull away from the building. We had two hours to work all this out. Josh better not back out now or I will totally kick his ass. I don’t care if he’s blood related.
    Josh leans forward, between the two seats. “You’re asking me to lie to my entire family to cover up some stupid cougar affair you’re having.  Why don’t you just tell Moms and Pops? They won’t care. Carter seems like a nice enough guy, even if he’s a little bit of a meathead.”
    Carter cut his eyes at Josh.  Laying my hand on his arm, I say, “He’s not a meathead. He’s smart and funny and…” I want to add, outstanding in bed, but that would just be awkward and exactly what we are not looking for at the moment. “And a competitive athlete. He swims for Duke. It’s why he’s coming with us to Charlotte for the holiday.”
    “You’re coming for Christmas because you’re a collegiate swimmer?” Josh i s smart. A smart-ass, that is. He’s some kind of computer genius. The next Steve Jobs or whatever.
    “No,