Page 88 of Never Sleigh Never
Anonymous donation. Ice rink. Miracle. My breath hitches. “I have to go. You’ve got things covered here?”
Lauren frowns. “Yeah, but—where are you going?”
“Taking care of something.” I sprint through the festival, dodging townsfolk and their “Merry Christmas!” greetings. First the Yule log. Now this. Only one person could have done it.
I jump in my SUV and race across town, breaking a few traffic laws along the way. I need to see him and get confirmation in person. Once I reach his house, I kill the engine and jump out. I jog up the walkway and pound on the door. “Logan!” Bang. Bang. Bang. “Logan!” Bang.
On the fourth knock, the door swings open, and Logan’s standing in front of me, brows furrowed. “Brie. What are you doing here?”
“Did you get me a Yule log?”
His lips curve into a smile. “I did.”
“And the donation?”
“I wanted you to have the festival you deserve?—”
That’s all I need. I launch myself at him, hands cupping his face, and crash my lips to his. He catches me instantly, arms banding tight around my waist. With our lips still fused together, I push him through the doorway. Once we’re inside, I kick the door shut and spin us around until his back hits the door.
I pull away a fraction of an inch. “Are you here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I press my lips to his in a lingering kiss. “You didn’t have to do that.” Kiss. “It’s amazing.” Kiss. “So kind.” Kiss. “And thoughtful.” Kiss. “And the most generous thing someone has done for me.”
“It was only a Yule log.” He smirks.
My fingers graze the short hairs at the back of his head as I press my body closer to his. His warmth radiates into me. “No, the donation. Logan…” My throat tightens. “No one’s ever done something like that for me.”
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, eyes steady on mine. “You deserve the best festival Mount Holly’s ever seen.”
My eyes lock on his, and every day it’s the same truth—falling for him is both the easiest and most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. My lips curve into a smile before I crash them against his. His hands slide inside my jacket, slipping it from my shoulders until it puddles on the floor. I toe off my boots, kicking them aside like they’ve personally offended me.
“I want to show you how much I appreciate you,” I murmur, tugging him toward the living room.
He plants his feet, that infuriating grin tugging at his mouth. “Or we could head upstairs. Just in case my mom makes another surprise visit.”
He’s not wrong. The last one was bad enough. It’s not an encore I need. “Bedroom it is.”
We barely make it up the stairs before I’m tugging at his clothes. His shirt hits the floor. My pulse kicks when my gaze snags on the hard line of him pressing against his gray sweatpants. I hook my thumb under the waistband and shove them down like it’s Christmas morning and he’s the only present I care about.
His cock springs free, thick and heavy. My fingers curl around his shaft, stroking once, twice, loving the way his head drops back as a groan rumbles from his chest.
“Fuck, Snowflake. I love your hands on me.”
A bead of pre-cum glistens at the tip, and I swipe my thumb across it, nerves sparking with anticipation. This isn’t new—we’ve had sex before—but the air is different today. Hotter. Sharper. More vulnerable.
His fingers fumble at my jeans, and I help, shimmying out of them along with my underwear. My sweater goes next, then my bra, until I’m bare under the heat of his gaze. His lips part, eyes dragging over every inch of me like I’m the only thing he’ll ever want. Warmth blooms in my chest.
I shove him back onto the bed, climbing over his thighs. “I want you, Logan. So much.” I grind against him, my slickness sliding over his cock.
He groans low and dangerous. “As much as I want you to show your appreciation, I want your sweet pussy first.” His grin sharpens. “Sit on my face.”
My nipples tighten at the command. I crawl up, bracing my hands on the headboard. His palms cup my ass, guiding me exactly where he wants me.
“Grab on, Snowflake,” he growls. “Ride.”
Before my fingers can even curl around the wood, his tongue runs up my pussy. “Oh, fuck.” The words rip out of me. He licks hard, roughing his tongue up my slit. His lips seal around my clit and he sucks until stars burst behind my eye lids. My grip on the headboard tightens, turning my knuckles white as I grind against his mouth. A raging inferno burns in me as he eats me out like a man having his last meal. His finger slides between my cheeks and circles my puckered hole. A gasp escapes me, the surprise sensation sending a shiver down my spine. It’s new and foreign, but I don’t hate it. The pad of his thumb circles the hole teasingly. Adding more pressure. The unexpected touch rockets through me, shattering the last of my control.
