Page 8 of How the Orc Stole Christmas
When we got inside, we spread our bounty on the table and i studied it, trying to decide the best approach. Klas brought the tree inside and set it up in the corner of the room, fiddling with it to get it just right. He was bent over at just the right angle for me to see the flexing of his truly magnificent ass. Sure, all the orcs in the village were muscular and handsome in their own way, but only of them got my engine revving.
Klas’s pants, that ended just past his knees, hugged his tree-trunk sized thighs that flexed every time he squatted or rose to move the tree. I never understood the phrasecould crack a walnut with his assuntil I saw Klas. Damn, that was a strong and beefy butt. And his mostly bare arms and chest were corded with muscle. He dominated the males in the village, the true alpha male, and every part of me softened for him.
My heart raced just a bit when he looked at me. My blood heated, and I could actually feel my pussy throb when he gaveme one of his intense stares. I would probably combust if we ever hooked up. His kiss almost killed me and I replayed it constantly, leading to one of my first ever sex dreams. Now I wanted the real thing.
“Is this acceptable, Jules?”
Oh, hell yes, it was. In every way.
He cocked an eyebrow at me and I realized I’d spoken out loud. My face heated, and I stammered, “It’s perfect, Klas. Thank you.”
Down girl, I told my hormones. Play it cool or he’ll run for the hills.
“Let’s figure out how to decorate it.”
I began playing with the assortment of items, thanking the good lord that I had been a camp counselor, rocking the craft’s table there. Klas joined me, frowning at my efforts.
“I don’t understand the point of bringing a tree inside or putting things on it.”
I set the string of red berries down. The women had sat around the fire that afternoon and strung what reminded us of cranberries while we waited for the orcs to return with other items. I loved this and couldn’t wait to add it to the tree.
“It brings joy and happiness. It brightens the room.”
He frowned even harder, if that was possible. “Then add more candles if you need brightness. A tree doesn’t light.”
I laughed. “Not that kind of bright.” I decided on a different angle, having been educated on the state of politics and the horrible asshole orc king who wanted to claim all the women for himself and keep the throne. “Think of it this way. Everyone is really tense and nervous about what’s going on. They’re worried about attacks and death. It’s also winter, with short days and longer nights. It’s a harder time. Having a celebration gives everyone a break from that, gives them a chance to celebrate life.”
“But that’s not reality. Reality is that we must always be prepared for attack.”
“Why can’t we do both? Does life have to always been this endless battle for survival with no joy?”
He didn’t say anything else and watched me twist some branches around to create a wreath. Then I handed me the other end of the stringed berries. “Help me arrange this on the tree.”
He held his end while I stretched to reach the top. My foot slipped, and I started to fall into the tree. He grabbed me, pulling me into his firm chest, my back to his front. I turned my head to look up at him, but his expression was unreadable.
He set me back on my feet and took the string. “I’m taller. I’ll do it.”
I nodded and pointed to how I wanted it done. Eventually, the tree was decorated the best I could, with assorted items dotting the limbs. It was pretty, with firelight dancing on the needles and off the colors of the berries.
“Would you like some tea?” I hadn’t quite mastered the fire yet, but was getting better. I could heat water and make some basic items to feed myself in the morning.
I held my breath, expecting him to leave as soon as he could, but he only nodded and sat at my table, his large size dwarfing the chairs. I began babbling about my life since joining the clan. It was easier than letting silence fill the air. He sat patiently as I worked.
I set some biscuits on the table and poured the tea. “Olivia helped me make these today. I’m still learning, so be patient.”
He took a bite of the biscuit, froze for a moment, then continued chewing. He took a sip of the tea, coughed and swallowed, hard. “It’s good.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Really?”
I sipped my tea and gagged. “Oh my god. That’s horrible. What did I do wrong?”
I peered into the tin of leaves and Klas took them from me. His expression solemn. “These aren’t leaves for tea, but for cooking stew.”
“No wonder they taste like ass,” I muttered. “I dread to think what the biscuits are like.”
He gamely took another bite while I poured some plain water this time. “They’re good.”
Something wasn’t right. I took a bite of the biscuit and I swear they absorbed every single bit of moisture in my mouth. “Stop eating them. They’re terrible.”
