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“I always have,” I tell him.
His smile then, lights up the room. Brighter than the Christmas tree downstairs and capable of setting my heart on fire. It’s the smile that made me fall in love with him all those years ago.
Instead of fading, it only grew brighter. One day I prayed he’d return.
Now here he is, two days before Christmas.
“What happens now?” I ask, my heart hoping for the ending I always dreamed about. Us, here, in this house. Happily ever after.
Hunter’s hand is on my waist and cupping my face. “We could dance.”
I shake my head. “We can’t go there, what if Truman--“
He cuts me off. “I was thinking we could stay here. Put this on,” he says, lifting the mix-tape. “You have a cassette player somewhere?”
Twisting my lips I think about the old stereo system still hooked up in the living room. “Actually, I might.”
I take the tape and we head downstairs. In the living room I close the curtains and then look for the tape deck as Hunter starts a fire. The sky outside the single pane windows is dark, and when the music begins I take him in, silently. His stature so solid and sure. A man in his own right -- a man who loves me.
My body burns for him. The lyrics of In Your Eyes send a smile across my face as Hunter turns to me, the fire burning behind him.
In your eyes, the light the heat.
The lyrics may have been immortalized by Peter Gabriel, but right now they aren’t his. They’re ours..
Hunter takes me in his arms again and this time love has been declared and there is no one stopping us from having what we want. This. Tonight. Finally.
“I’ve waited for you,” I tell him as I press myself against him. “I’m still as pure as I was when you left.”
“You and Truman, you never…”
I shake my head. “I’m a virgin.”
“God, Holly, I knew you were too good for me. You’re so--”
“I’m just a girl, who has always been in love with a boy. And so I waited.”
“Why did you always believe in me? Believe in us?” he asks.
“When we would lie on my roof and look at the stars, you could always point out constellations.”
“And?”
“And I knew a boy who could point out Cassiopeia, who could hold my hand and kiss my lips and make me feel so seen, in the midst of such a great, vast galaxy, was one in a million. I knew finding you was a shot in the dark, yet there we were.”
“Until I left you, all alone.”
“We all have our reasons for the things we do. I went to that bible college because my father asked me to on his deathbed. It sounds like you left for the same reason.” I pause, looking into his eyes. “What matters is that you came back.”
Hunter nods and then pulls me into his arms. This time there is no hesitation, no fear, no doubt. We’ve both confessed how we feel, and now it is time for action, not words.
“I love you,” he growls in my ear, his thick beard scratching my neck and sending a trail of desire through my veins.
I whimper against him, my flesh aching for the carnal display of our emotions. He kisses me, hard, hard enough for me to gasp, to part my lips, to find his tongue. He feels so strong as he holds me, his muscles stretching the seams of his flannel, but other things growing too.
Against me is his cock, pressed against my belly, and I need to touch it, taste it, suck it. Him. His thick length needs to fill me up and I arch my back as his fingers lift the hem of my candy-striped sweater.
“God your skin is so soft,” he whispers in my ear.
I smile, my hair loose around my shoulders, my eyes closing as he tosses my sweater aside, as he massages my breasts in the palm of his hand. My white lacy bra cups are in the way -- I want his calloused hands to touch bare skin, my hard nipples, I want his mouth to suck my tits. I want him to take me, claim me, own me. Now and forever.
“I love you,” I moan as he unclasps my bra and begins to fondle my breasts with his fingers. I drop my head and his big hands shimmy down my pants, my panties. I am a present, already unwrapped. His.
“You’re the cutest elf in the fucking world, Holly Saint Claire.”
I smile, shaking my head. Not in the least insecure. I want Hunter to see me. Naked and wanting. His.
“I don’t think any of Santa’s elves walk around naked in the North Pole.”
“Lucky for us,” he says with a grin, pushing down his pants. “We aren’t in the North Pole, we’re in Mistletoe.”
