Page 71 of A Cozy Holiday
His hips twitch, but I land my hands on his thighs, shaking my head and moaning “Nuh-uh” on his cock. His gaze darts from the front of the sleigh to me, his brain clearly having a problem deciding what to focus on.
Good.
He’s made me forget about so much over these past three weeks. I want to give him everything he’s given to me and more.
I twist my hand around the base, eyes never leaving his as I take his stiff length into my mouth. I gag and he curses.
“I’m not gonna last long like this, Joy.” He’s gasping now.
“God, I can’t think—fuck. I like watching you take me in your mouth.” He moves the reins to one hand, and the sleigh bucks, which only makes his dick hit my throat. I choke, tears stinging the edges of my eyes. His fingers grip the nape of my neck, hard, but he doesn’t force me down, just holds me there. He tastes like salt and adrenaline, and my core throbs with pleasure.
I’ve never enjoyed giving head, but watching Jamie lose control like this makes it my new favorite thing in the world. I suck him messier now. I can barely breathe, but I don’t stop.
I squeeze my own thighs together. My nipples ache to be touched. I swear I could orgasm from having him in my mouth alone.
“Joy, I’m gonna come.” He motions for me to move my mouth, but I just suck deeper, precum coating the inside of my cheeks.
I feel his thighs start to shake just before a burst of hot liquid fills my mouth. I swallow it as it comes and revel in the power I feel and the incoherent groans coming from the man above me.
Suddenly, the sleigh comes to a stop.
“What are you doing?” I ask, wiping the back of my hand across my swollen lips.
“We are here.”
He helps me up, fixing his jeans and pulling me into his lap. Just ahead of the reindeer, tucked between two tall pines, stands a fir tree, not the tallest in the forest, but easily the widest, its branches heavy with snow and color.
It smells like balsam and ice.
Ornaments hang from nearly every branch—round pink ones from Honey, sleek matte black ones Kiki must have chosen. Some are half-buried under frost, others twinkle softly. A few have fallen, scattered at the base like marbles.
I can almost see them all here, bundled up, throwing snowballs, Jamie lifting the girls high enough to reach the top branches.
“Wow,” I whisper. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Good, then you’ll have something to look at while I repay the favor.” Jamie shifts, setting me on the bench, and this time he drops to his knees.
He shimmies me out of my leggings, the freezing air nipping at my skin. I close my eyes, letting myself feel the safety in him. Not rushed, not taken, but chosen. Wanted. The ache I’ve carried since that awful day with Parker loosens, piece by piece.
And before I’m lost in my pleasure, I look at the glittering star on top of the tree and make a wish—to one day hang an ornament on a tree like this, with a family of my own.
Chapter 20
Falalalalala You Don’t Deserve Happiness…
This isthe first normal Christmas morning of my entire adult life.
Last year, I spent it at the clinic finishing grant paperwork under the fluorescent lights because Parker had gone home to his family and I hadn’t been ready to meet them yet.
Now, Kiki and Honey streak past the living room and toward the stairs, their socks sliding on the wood floors. They’re wearing the jackets I gifted them, two exact versions of the silver faux sheepskin coat I wore the first day I met them, only purple for Kiki and pink for Honey.
Jamie and I are facing each other on his couch, a plaid blanket thrown over us, his knee pressed against mine. He’s watching me instead of the fireplace as I read the first chapter of the fantasy book he got me. He annotated it with little notes like “I imagine your eyes here”and “Look, she has problems slowing downtoo”scribbled in the margins.
I throw a pillow at his face. “She’s clumsy too. Aren’t you glad you didn’t come to visit me in mud season?’” I read aloud, imitating his voice.
He blocks the pillow with ease. “Hey! I’m just saying you two have a lot in common. Plus, it’s a positive. Snow is easier to get out of clothes than mud.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I haven’t biffed it since—”
