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Her lips press kisses to my neck while we catch our breath. “I miss you so much when we’re not together.” She looks up at me, tears building in her amber eyes. “I love you so much. I don’t know how I contain it all in my body.
“I love you, too,” I tell her as I rest my forehead against hers. We hold each other there for a moment, floating on a cloud of peace and contentment. She drops her legs back to the ground, and I slip my dick back in my pants. “And I really love knowing you’re going to be a hundred shades of red when we go back out there. Me, with your lipstick on my collar. You, full of my cum.”
Claimed. Just as she always should be.
6
OLIVIA
* * *
“Come on, Livvy,” Nolan coaxes me down the twelfth row of pine trees at this Christmas tree farm we drove hours to get to. “I know the perfect tree is here somewhere.”
“It’s twenty degrees, it better be here.” I look up at the gray sky hoping for snowflakes to at least make this cold worth it. I love being out here with Nolan, doing this together, but I’m used to the muggy heat of Central America, not the bitter winter temperatures of the northeast.
Nolan looks incredibly sexy outfitted for the cold. His jeans hug his leanly muscled legs and ass perfectly. His buffalo red checkered flannel shirt under a black puffy vest makes him look right at home holding the saw in his hand. His auburn hair pokes out haphazardly under his beanie. I lift my phone to snap a photo of him for Sawyer as he studies the trunk of an eight-foot spruce.
He looks over at me, a boyish grin splitting his face. “I think this might be the one.” He grabs my gloved hand and pulls me over. “What do you think?”
“Looks perfect to me. It should be a perfect fit in the family room.” I peer through the branches. “Is the trunk a little a crooked thought?”
“Nothing wrong with a little curvature.” He wiggles his brows suggestively. “You actually seem to like it if I recall correctly.”
I laugh at his antics as he wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead.
“Hold the trunk while I saw it.”
I push my arm through needles and branches to hold the tree steady while he goes to work at the bottom. The scent of the tree envelops me, and I see why he insisted on getting at least one real one.
“It smells so good,” I say down to him.
“Yeah, it does.” He grunts as he scoots a little further under. “Did you guys never have real trees?”
“No, most of the time we didn’t even have a tree growing up. Moving from country to country and village to village didn’t really allow us to keep possessions beyond basic clothing. My parents did immerse me in whatever the local culture was though.”
Memories of growing up with my parents volunteering their medical expertise and homeschooling me around the world play back in my head. I think they would be happy with where I ended up, who I ended up with. But would they be proud of who I am now?
“That is just as important at the end of the day.” Nolan’s voice is a little strained as he continues to work the saw through the trunk. “But my mom always wanted us to get a real tree. She’ll love hearing that I started the tradition back up.”
“We should start some of our own traditions.”
“Hell yes!” he exclaims as he finishes cutting the tree down. “To getting this tree down and making our own traditions.” He hands me the saw and reaches into the tree near the base. “I carry the heavy end, you just get the tip.”
I give him the side eye over my shoulder. “Just the tip?”
“We’ll get it bagged, and you can help me put it in the back.” He winks at me with a cheeky grin.
“There are children running around here.”
“I’m not the one twisting my words into something sexual, you pervert.” He chuckles.
“What kind of traditions do you think we should start?” I decide to change the subject.
“Cookie decorating contest for sure.”
“I love that!”
“How about you?” he asks.
