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“Just…like…this,” he says, pinpointing each word with strokes into my mouth. He lets out a masculine noise that has me clenching my thighs as he empties into my mouth. Cum hits the back of my throat, and I start swallowing on instinct. Swallowing and swallowing until he relaxes, shuddering his final release.
My eyelids flutter closed as I release him. I lick him one last time as I sit up, and his eyes have gone absolutely feral. Instead of scaring me, it thrills me to the core because I know I’m about to have a hell of a lot of fun with Uncle Cam again.
fifteen
You can’t decoratethe tree without cookies and hot chocolate. It’s tradition.
When I told Uncle Cam that, he only lifted his brows, but the man stuck around. I think he secretly loves having me here, and not just because of the other benefits.
He leaves briefly, only to return with Mrs. Williams. She gasps and cheers when she walks in. “Oh, I missed the baking we used to do in here.” I peer between the two of them and catch it when she looks back at my uncle and puts on her best grandmotherly voice. “You should keep her around, Cameron. She’s bringing the magic back.” She comes swooping over to join me on the other side of the island and to my surprise, starts getting out her own mixing bowls. “Now…” She peers over at me while I stir chocolate chip cookie dough. “Oh, good. I'm making sugar cookies with my special frosting recipe. You’re going to love them!”
She goes to work, and I can’t help but peek up at Uncle Cam who’s still standing in the doorway. He has a faraway look on his face, and if I’m not mistaken, a smile. Agenuinesmile. We lock gazes for a moment, and it deepens. His cheeks almost turning pink.
Turning, he props the kitchen doorway open, and from this vantage point, I can see through the dining room, through the hallway, all the way to where he’s set up the tree in the sitting room in the corner. Mrs. Williams turns on the radio where Jingle Bells is in the middle of playing, and my body warms.
Now,thisfeels like Christmas. I miss Mom and Dad, sure, but that doesn’t mean the spirit of the holiday is dead.
Mrs. Williams and I work side-by-side while my uncle finds every excuse to come into the room or walk by. He makes her laugh. “Okay, you vulture,” she teases. “You know you want to come sample the batter.”
He gives her a winning smile, and I watch their interaction with interest. I hadn’t realized they knew one another all that well. I thought the Williams’ were just guests, and maybe they are, but it seems like they’ve been guests for a while.
Uncle Cam comes over and swipes his finger through my cookie dough. He plops a ball into his mouth, his lids fluttering closed. They pop open a moment later, and he just stares at me. “They taste like June’s.”
Mrs. Williams reaches over to taste, too. “They certainly do,” she smiles, but it wanes. “Oh, but I miss her.”
It goes silent for a moment. There’s really nothing I can add. I miss the grandmother I used to know, but I don’t know the woman they knew.
I swallow. My mom was hurt. I know this. But it wasn’t right to keep me from her.
Mrs. Williams clears her throat. “Cameron, honey, will you please go get the mister? I need his stirring arm.” She makes a muscle with her right arm that makes me smile.
Uncle Cam takes another scoop of my cookie dough before he leaves, avoiding my gaze. After he’s gone, I peer up at my companion who’s still looking at the empty doorway he just went through. She sighs. When she notices I’m staring at her, she perks up again. “By the way, I wanted to thank you for decorating our room.”
“You’re welcome,” I tell her. “It wasn’t much.”
“It was enough. It reminded me of the old days.”
“So, you stay here a lot over Christmas?” I ask because that’s the only explanation I’ve been able to come up with.
“Oh, yes. For years.” Her smile fades. “Cameron tries, but he wrestles with his own demons. Having his dreams taken away like that. Then his dad dies, then Miss June. I think this inn is simultaneously a gift and a… Well, like a prison for him.”
My stomach clenches. I hadn’t thought of it like that. From what I’d thought, it made sense that he let the inn go because of his injury.
Mrs. Williams sets her mixing bowl and wooden spoon aside. Flour dust dots her arms. “You should’ve seen him before he got hurt. He’d try like the dickens to get here around the holidays. He loved your grandma’s cookies,” she says, nodding toward my own bowl. “He loved decorating. He’d help his dad with the exterior as he got older.” She shakes her head. “With everything that happened so close together like that, I think he kind of lost himself.”
She sighs again, looking off into space. I don’t know what to say. Uncle Cam always has this hard persona. Like nothing gets to him. He’s downright grumpy, actually.
“I’m glad he has some family here this year,” Mrs. Williams says, grinning at me. “I wish your mom had been able to make it.” I give her a look, and she throws her hands up. “I might be a bit of an eavesdropper. I’m just saying, he should have family around, even ones he’s never met before.”
“I agree,” I tell her, taking a deep breath. If I wasn’t here, I really don’t know what he would have done. He couldn’t even handle one breakfast.
She elbows me in the arm. “And I knew you looked like your Grandma. I bet your mom is the spitting image.”
The entrance of Mr. Williams clapping his hands together and rubbing them saves me from answering. “I hear I’m needed.”
Mrs. Williams gestures towards her bowl. “Right here. I hope you’ve been working on your exercises.”
Immediately, Mr. Williams walks over, picks up the tune of the carol on the radio and starts whistling. Cam is leaning against the doorjamb, and I lock gazes with him. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, and neither one of us looks away until Mrs. Williams elbows me again. “You better get your cookies in the oven.”
