Page 68 of A Christmas For Holly

HOLLY: Relieved. But distract me.

LUCAS: I’m just checking the final to-do list for the parade.

HOLLY: Are you checking it twice?

LUCAS: Ha ha. I am. And FYI, you’re on the naughty list.

HOLLY: The naughty list sounds way more fun. What’s my punishment?

LUCAS: A week without marshmallows in your hot chocolate.

HOLLY: You’re cruel. I’ll behave. Maybe.

LUCAS: You better. By the way, you’ll have company soon. I’m coming up.

HOLLY: You mean it?

LUCAS: I’ll be there by ten tonight. Save me a seat by the stove and put the cookies on.

HOLLY: Always. And Lucas…

LUCAS: Yeah?

HOLLY: Don’t forget condoms and lube

Fuck, I was instantly hard. I’d never moved so fast, and with a grin plastered across my face, I checked that I’d already packed said condoms and lube, then grabbed my coat and keys to Dad’s car which I’d been loaned, ready to drive to Holly’s cabin.

The space where the Lamborghini had been was empty now, with drifts of snow piled high on either side. I parked my car, grabbed my bag and bolted for the cabin. The packedsnow underfoot was slick, and I slid halfway up the drive, only catching myself as I hit the porch steps.

Before I could knock, the door flew open, and there was Holly, his hair sticking up in a way that made him look like he’d been pacing for hours. His dark eyes lit up when he saw me, and we were on each other before I could speak. His arms wrapped around me, his body warm and solid, and we kissed like it had been years and not only one night apart.

“I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice hoarse but full of urgency.

“Missed you too,” I replied, gripping the back of his sweater, needing him closer, needing to feel that he was real. “I can’t get enough of you, Holly.”

“Hurry,” he whispered, pulling me further into the cabin, the door slamming shut behind us with a dull thud. The warmth hit me, a cozy glow from the Christmas lights spilling across the room. But none of it mattered—not the lights or snow outside. Just him.

I dropped my bag near the door as we stumbled toward the stairs, still kissing and clinging to each other. His hands were in my hair, mine under his sweater, finding the heat of his skin, desperate to close every inch of space between us.

“Lucas,” he breathed, his lips brushing mine as he pulled back just enough to look at me. His smile was pure warmth, pure Holly. “I want you.”

“Good,” I managed, tugging him back in for another kiss, deeper this time, and sweeter. “Because I want you too.”

We somehow made it up the stairs, his laugh soft and breathless as I retrieved and then dragged my bag behind me, refusing to let go of him for a second. By the time we reached the loft, we were a naked tangle of limbs, kisses, and whispered words, tumbling onto the bed in a heap.

“I can’t stop,” I murmured, my hands framing his face as I kissed him again, frantic but soft, my chest tight with everything I couldn’t put into words. “God, I missed you.”

“Me too,” he replied, his voice breaking as he pulled me closer.

His smile, the glow of the lights, the feel of him beneath me—it was all too much and somehow not enough. We kissed again, warm and desperate, and so damn perfect that the rest of the world melted away, leaving us wrapped up in each other, finally whole.

“Inside me,” I demanded, and he grinned, and we fumbled with too much lube, and laughter, and trying to get a condom on him, and then he was pressing inside, gently, so fucking carefully that I wanted to cry, and when he was seated, when we were as close as we could be, he stilled and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

My heart pounded, and so much love welled up I didn’t know what to say.

But with every push inside, with every heated kiss and exchange of breath, I whispered that I loved him over and over. He held my hands, curved himself into me, closed his eyes, and whispered the same back, and when his orgasm hit, I followed him over.

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