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“Yes?” I whispered, getting to my feet.
“Yes,” she said and wrapped her arms around me like she was sealing the deal. Like the kiss made it more real. More concrete.
There, I thought. I fixed things. For everyone.
“Come on,” I told her, stepping back. “Before Ben comes looking for you.”
22
Ethan
Christmas Eve started with a disaster and never got better.
“Kristen still isn’t back from New York,” I said to Lexie, checking my texts while she made coffee before we left the house.
“Is she coming back?” Lexie asked, and I shook my head.
“She said she was, but…who knows? New York is where her life is. And now Matt fucking left.”
“Left, like, where?” she asked. She was wearing what she called her Christmas skirt, which was deep red and forest green plaid satin with gold netting underneath it. She wore it with a gold belt that made her waist look tiny and her tits magnificent. The skirt was short and her little green boots were high and the red sweater she wore was off her shoulders.
She was the sexiest Mrs. Claus who ever walked the Earth.
“Matt got called back to the Warriors for a meeting.”
“Oh no.” Lexie read over my shoulder. “That blows. Poor Jasmine.”
“Jasmine!” I cried. “What about us? We’re having like…a giant party at the inn tonight and my siblings aren’t going to be there.” How was I even surprised? This was what they did. My poor dad.
“Nah.” She waved me off. “We’ll be fine. But I think Jasmine really liked him. And I imagine your brother didn’t have any choice. I used to date a guy who was a back-up fire breather for Cirque, and when you get called, you just get called.”
I stared at my beautiful wife, luminous in the sunshine. “You have had an extremely interesting life.”
“It’s just what happens when you grow up in Vegas. And he wasn’t interesting at all. He was a jerk and he tasted like gasoline all the time.”
“Are you going to miss Vegas?” I asked her. “We never talked about it.”
“Probably,” she said. “I mean, it’s the only home I’ve ever known, but when I miss it I just go take a trip, right?”
“We take a trip,” I said. “If you miss Vegas, we’ll take a trip. Together.”
I leaned over the island to kiss her. Really kiss her. Kiss her until she was panting and her fingers were tangled in my shirt. “What do I taste like?” I asked her and kissed her again. And then one more for good measure.
“Christmas,” she said. On account of the gingerbread cookie I’d had half of this morning. Lexie bought one of those gingerbread kits from Sweet Bliss and we were eating it out of the bag without putting it together. Just breaking off a cookie, squeezing on icing and decorating it before eating it. Savage, but it got the job done.
“What else?”
“Me,” she said and I hummed against her mouth. I’d woken her up nice and easy this morning with my head between her legs and I could still taste her and the cookie, and if I died right now with this last taste in my mouth, I’d die a happy man.
“How much time do we have?” she asked. Sucking my lip into her mouth.
“Lots of time,” I lied, because I knew what she was thinking. And I wasn’t going to say no. Today was going to be a marathon—we should start it right.
She jumped up on the kitchen island and swung her legs around so she was facing me, her legs around my waist. Her skirt bunched up between us. Her arms twined around my neck. I slipped my hand under her tight, thin shirt. It wouldn’t keep her warm, but she looked so good in it. And that, she’d told me this morning, was the only thing that mattered.
I braced my hands on the counter near her hips and then pulled her closer until she could feel my erection pressed up tight against her. I slipped my hand under the netting and cupped her ass in her tights, grinding her against me.
She broke our kiss, tossing her head back. “Fuck, this wasn’t my plan,” she said. Grinding against me in a way that made me crazy.
“Tell me your plan,” I said, kissing her neck, the soft pretty shell of her ear. The sweet spot behind it,
“I was going to get on my knees,’ she whispered and I leaned back and looked at her. Our eyes caught. “Unzip your pants. Take out your cock—”
I stepped back, giving her room, and she smiled at me, her whole body twinkling. “You like my plan?”
“I fucking love your plan,” I said and she did just what she said she’d do. Got down on her knees. Unzipped my pants and took my cock out. She curled her warm, soft hands around me, slipped her lips over the head. Every time she did this to me. Every single time, it didn’t matter if I’d just had an orgasm, I was suddenly right on the edge. Suddenly desperately close. I didn’t know if it was the picture of her on her knees in front of me in those clothes or the idea of her doing it, but she made me feel like a fucking man.
