Page 19 of Courting the Krampus
Natalie puts her hands on her hips. “For fuck’s sake, you guys are making this awkward. It doesn’t have to be. Look, I don’t know the whole complex history between you guys, but here’s what I do know. Cole has never taken a day off and Nick was concerned, so he brought soup. Am I right?”
Nick and I look at each other and nod.
“And from what I’ve gathered, you guys don’t really know each other that well on a personal level, so this is weird. But weird we can work with. So we’re going to hang out over breakfast and talk. As you like to say Cole, ‘use your words.’ Now, thank Nick for the kind gesture and ask him how he likes his pancakes.”
Silence follows for a couple of seconds before I mumble my genuine gratitude. “Thanks, Nick.”
Jasper’s shoulders bounce so roughly with his silent laughter that a snort escapes from me. Nick’s deep chuckles join mine and soon the whole kitchen is filled with laughter.
We fall into easy conversation as we personalize our pancakes. We work our way through the spread of toppings ranging from jams, chocolate sauce, toffee sauce, maple syrup, bacon, blueberries, strawberries, bananas, marshmallows, and whipped cream. All of us seem to have a sweet tooth, and we recommend different combinations, trying them all until we’re stuffed and Nick is patting his stomach.
Nick doesn’t have the typical Santa belly that’s to be expected from children’s books, but he’s a bear of a male who likes to stay active, swinging axes and crafting toys with his rough hands rather than being stuck with administrative tasks.
“Can I make anyone some coffee?” Natalie asks as she gathers our empty plates. I smile at how natural it feels for her to offer, how at home she is in my house, and I sit back to take in the view.
“I’ll take a caffè mocha again, please,” I answer, shoulders feeling somewhat less stiff than before.
“Me, too.” Jasper takes the dishes from Natalie and stacks them by the sink.
Heading over to the coffee maker, Natalie asks, “Where do you keep that gingerbread whipped cream? I want some of that again.”
“We ran out,” I say flatly, not offering any explanation in front of Nick. Natalie will understand soon enough.
Her brows climb up her forehead, but something on my face must give away that I don’t want to talk about it right now. “Okay. No whipped cream,” she says neutrally, then turns to Nick. “How about you, Santa?”
Ears turning a bright red, Nick says, “A glass of milk, please.”
“Seriously?” Natalie asks, genuinely curious and with the cutest grin adorning her face.
Nick’s shoulders curl forward and he winces. “Unfortunately, some of those Santa rumors are true. No escaping the milk-appreciating genes.”
Natalie’s understanding nod is kind and she doesn’t poke any further. Instead, she redirects the conversation. “Cole, you and Nick go get comfortable in the living room while Jasper and I make the drinks. Won’t we, Jasper?”
Jasper nods excitedly and I get up, gesturing for Nick to precede me to the living room.
Chapter nine
Natalie
“I don’t think I’ve gotten a proper morning greeting from you yet,” Jasper says, pressing his body against my back. His hands snake around my waist and he pulls me to him. Unable to resist, I press my ass back and rub against his cock, which seems to have the inability to ever go soft.
“I hope this got taken care of last night, otherwise you must be in pain,” I say over my shoulder, meeting Jasper’s hungry eyes.
He runs his nose up the column of my neck and nips at my ear. A shudder works its way down my spine and I tilt my head back, granting him more access. Jasper presses soft kisses against my skin, then drags his teeth along certain spots, making my pussy wetter with each pass.
I turn in his arms and his hands settle on my hips. My fingers climb up his broad chest until I cup the back of his neck.
“Morning,” I whisper, craning my neck back to stare at the lips I dreamed about all night.
“I really want to kiss you,” Jasper says hoarsely, fingers tightening with his admission.
“Then why don’t you?”
“I don’t want to scare you.” The pained words are soft, between a whisper and a breath.
Something uncomfortable pinches in my chest, and my heart starts pattering away.
No, these aren’t feelings. They’re just… misplaced pussy flutters.
