Page 10 of Curvy Christmas Magic for the Mountain Man
"You two are so in love. It's obvious," my aunt says knowingly.
"I'm going to do the dishes. You go relax with your aunt in the living room by the fire," Soren says when we separate.
"Are you sure?" I say, my hand on his chest, and I feel an unwillingness to remove it.
"Yes. Definitely. I'll clean up," he says, and gives me a wink that makes me want to throw him to the floor and ride him right here in this kitchen.
Following my aunt into the living room, I realize I am starting to experience actual feelings for Soren. I wonder how he feels about me. He's played his part beautifully, but he is also just a sweet man under his grumpy exterior.
The next morning, we help my aunt pack up her car before she gives us each a hug.
"That was a wonderful Thanksgiving, Celia. So wonderful that I'm coming for Christmas too," she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek before sliding into her driver's seat and rolling down the driveway.
When she disappears from sight, I blurt out, "I think she bought it."
I turn to Soren, whose eyebrows furrow, and he gives me a gruff nod.
"Well, I'll go get my stuff and head on out," he says curtly, turning as he walks back into the house.
When I enter the cabin, I see him coming down the stairs with his suitcase in hand.
"Thanks, Soren," I say, confused. "I guess we'll talk later?"
The mountain man grunts something that sounds like a yes, and within seconds, he leaves my cabin.
Standing in the hallway, I think about what just happened and feel embarrassed because I was starting to believe that he was forming feelings for me too. But this gruff, grumpy response distresses me. Trouble comes sauntering out of the living room, and I pick him up in my arms.
"I honestly thought maybe he was starting to like me," I say, burying my face into the cat's soft fur. "But if that were true, then why is he being such a freaking grump?"
All morning, I can't shake the worried feeling, and I feel upset about Soren's weird one-eighty attitude. I go out for a jog to try to shake the tenseness away. But even after a couple of miles, when I return, I still feel stressed.
After a quick shower, I dig out my trusty pink vibrator and flop down on the bed naked. Turning it on, I let it do its magic on my clit, pinching my nipple with the other hand and fantasizing that Soren is standing above me dressed in his flannel shirt and jeans like he was every day when working in my house. I continue to play with myself as I watch him unbuckle his pants and slide out his ready cock, stroking it while he watches me.
In my fantasy, he takes his firm hands and presses my thighs open, leaning down and sliding his thickness into me, stretching my pussy as he enters. I grab his ass, helping him thrust into me, my tits bouncing underneath him. The idea of this sends me careening over a cliff, and my body violently shatters when I come.
Thoughts of Soren continue to prick at my mind, but my body has finally released the tension I've been carrying around all day.
When I wake up in the morning, I send a quick text to the mountain man, still worried that I somehow offended him or angered him. I putter around the house until my Christmas tree delivery comes after lunch. I decide to let it warm in the house and decorate it tomorrow.
Walking back to the living room, I'm disappointed to see that Soren has yet to respond to my morning text.
8
Soren
Standing behind Celia, we watch her aunt back out of the driveway, disappearing from sight.
"I think she bought it!" the beautiful witch exclaims, turning to me. My entire stomach feels heavy with sickening disappointment, and I give her a nod.
All I want to do is escape this situation. I thought maybe something real was forming between us, but I was a fool, apparently.
"Well, I'll go get my stuff and head on out," I say, rushing back into the house.
Once home, I throw my suitcase onto the floor and pace the living room. I shouldn't have allowed myself to develop feelings. All this time, I've been doing her a favor. So all I did was set myself up for disappointment, and now here I am feeling brokenhearted over a curvy witch who is only playing a part to trick her aunt. And I was a willing participant. So it's not even like I can be angry with her. I'm mad at myself.
The worst part is how natural it all felt. Holding her hand, kissing her, pretending to be in love. Except it wasn't pretending for me, not really. Somewhere along the way, I started believing in the charade we were putting on. I started imagining what it would be like if it were real.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I step out onto my back porch and try to find some calm in the mountain woods that I love.
