Operation Vixen: The Force, the Fetish, the First.
This is a (late) birthday present for one of our favorite human beings, @londonrainings. Happy Birthday and Happy New Year!
Madge pouts and slumps back against the kitchen counter. “We’re going to the pub again?”
It’s December 26th—St. Stephen’s Day in Ireland—and Madge is certain she’s running on eggnog and pure sexual tension at this point. She’s stayed over at Gale’s childhood home not one, but two nights in a row, and she’s woken up next to his twelve-year-old sister Posy each time. And while Madge absolutely adores everyone in Gale’s loud, affectionate, and gloriously Irish family, she’s itching to have her brand new boyfriend all to herself right now.
Alas, alone time is not forthcoming. “We promised the lads,” Gale reminds her, slipping his hands under the hem of her sweater. “It’s Stephen’s Night.”
His hands are still damp from the washing up, and they’re cool and slick on her skin as they come to rest on her waist. “You’re not helping,” she chides him.
He really wasn’t. She’s lost count of the number of times they’d come thisclose to jumping each other whenever they had a moment to themselves. On the couch. In the bathroom. Right here in the kitchen.
“I’d rather not go, either,” Gale murmurs into her ear. “But it’s Bristel’s birthday, too. You know how put off he is that it’s so close to Christmas. We’ll just excuse ourselves early, like last time.”
Madge swallows back a moan as his thumbs start tracing circles on her hipbones. It’s taking all of her willpower not to rip his clothes off right now. “All right.”
It’s going to be a long night.