Page 85 of Love Song, Take Two

Eating you for Christmas dinner.

It was Christmas Eve and three days since Fletcher had come home with Emery after their heart-to-heart, and Micah was still reeling. She loved that her daughter trusted Fletcher enough to talk to him about things that weighed on her. But she hadn’t known how much worry Emery was carrying in her heart. The three of them spent a lot of time together—even if it was just eating breakfast before responsibilities got in the way, or movie night. She was glad for it. Fletcher Kelley’s return to her life hadn’t been on her bingo card for the year, but it was the only box she wanted to cross off. Micah was happy. She was with someone who didn’t expect her to be anyone but herself. Someone who loved her daughter and was loved in return.

Santa duties and music lessons were over, so while they played board games and cooked together, the three of them also found ways to do their own thing. Fletcher had all but moved into her house, and she was waiting for the right moment to ask him to make it official. She knew that she loved him and would do so for a long time to come, but she hadn’t wanted to put that kind of pressure on him. Now knowing the things he and Emery had talked about, she was ready to ask him to move in with her. Or hell, they’d move into Hank’s old house together, if that’s what he wanted.

Except, she was rushing through the bedroom getting dressed for one last session with Mrs. Hershey. The old woman had improved in her reading, but that only meant she wanted Micah to help her with a few more chapters before the book club discussion. Micah knew that book cover-to-cover and Fletcher was benefiting from this newly developed Santa kink in a big way. So much so, the night before, Micah had tied Fletcher’s wrists to her headboard using Christmas lights and rode him like the stallion he was. Afterwards, when his dick had twitched awake again, she’d dropped his Santa hat over it and collapsed into fits of laughter.

Her feelings about Christmas hadn’t changed, it was still a capitalist holiday where all the cheer felt manufactured. But, she had a new appreciation for Santa. And she still liked seeing the holiday through Emery’s eyes.

“Hey, twister,” Fletcher’s voice broke through her thoughts as she adjusted her belt. “Come here.”

She barely had a moment to respond before Fletcher’s hand was in the waistband of her pants and he was tugging her towards him. He pulled the belt out through the loops and started the process again. She was a little frazzled. And the bedroom did look like a tornado had swept through. Micah sighed and dropped her hands, looking at him as he perched on the edge of the bed in nothing but his pajama pants. His hair was tied back in a ponytail—he and Emery did this quite often and Micah thought it was cute as fuck—glasses were on and his chest shimmered thanks to the water droplets clinging to his skin after his shower. God, she loved this man. More than she thought it was possible.

She’d been so complacent in her marriage to Geoffrey because he treated her as such. But not Fletcher. He offered her smiles and kisses, touched her every chance he got and reminded her constantly that she was his. If you’d told her sixteen years ago, when she’d snuck out of that hotel room that she’d be with the same man again, Micah would not have believed you. She was a realist and that meant reconnecting with the man who rocked her world seemed unlikely.

Smiling, she cupped his face and tilted it up to look at her. “You are the best thing that’s happened to me in a really long time.”

“That’s my line,” he said softly.

“Tough shit, stallion. I’m so grateful for you, in ways that I might not always be able to put into words.”

He leaned into one hand, his cheek resting against her palm and beard scratching against her skin. “Me too, Mick. Me fucking too.”

Dipping her head, she brushed her mouth against his and Fletcher’s hand moved from her waist to her ass, pulling her against him. Laughing into the kiss, she let him gently tug her into his lap so she was straddling him. With her thumbs tracing the apples of his cheeks, Micah pulled back and sighed. “Thank you for loving my kid too, Fletch. That means the world to me.”

“You never have to thank me for that, Mick. It’s my honor to love and be loved by the George women.”

She kissed him again, forehead resting against his until her phone started ringing again. Groaning, Micah slid off his lap and held the screen up to face him. “I think she’s taking me for granted,” she whispered before answering Mrs. Hershey’s call. After confirming that she would be there in thirty minutes, Micah stole another kiss from Fletcher and finished getting ready.

“You have the list, right?”

Fletcher arched a playful eyebrow. “Your list or something else, love bug?”

“Fletch…”

“I’ve got the list.”

“I hid my list, so if you found it, then we’re in trouble.”

He laughed and stood up as she slipped earrings on, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. “I know where your list is, but don’t worry, I won’t look.”

Micah rolled her eyes and grabbed the brown sweater off the clothes horse and tugged it on. “How do I look?”

“A hot, sexy teacher I’d like to be punished by.”

She gently punched him in the arm and turned to her reflection. Okay, maybe he’s not wrong. Light brown pants, white t-shirt and brown sweater paired with white sneakers and simple earrings. She was an off-duty speech therapist, helping out the old lady who had once been her childhood neighbor.

“Well, if I come home to an empty kitchen, you will be punished,” she threatened, voice low but playful.

“And I’ll like it?”

She snorted and shook her head, stepping around him to grab her things. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” she told him, stretching up to kiss him and then darted out so she wouldn’t miss her appointment with Mrs. Hershey.

As she predicted, the session with Mrs. Hershey ran late. Micah had planned for it, but she hadn’t expected the old woman to drag the whole thing out that much. It started with a trip down memory lane and her favorite Christmases, then how her late husband used to dress up as Santa and “maybe that’s where my kink started, you know?” to how the Santa in the book was not doing enough to get her blood pumping. By the time she had put the book aside, Micah was a bundle of emotions. She was exhausted from lack of sleep and incredibly horny—see: riding her Santa boyfriend like a stallion—and she was desperate to get home because it was Christmas Eve.

However, the upside was that Mrs. Hershey was able to read an entire chapter without fumbling. She might have been going slower than expected, but that didn’t stop her. Micah loved working with her because of that. The old woman might be stubborn and difficult, but when it came to doing what she wanted, she powered through. And it was an absolute treat. Even if she sometimes said puzzy instead of pussy and cawk instead of cock. It was still quite entertaining.

Walking into the house, she dropped her things by the door and was hit with the scent of toasted cinnamon. “Oh my god, what is this glorious smell?” Micah groaned as she moved through the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Emery.

---