Page 9 of Once Upon a Thanksgiving
Jack leans in, his voice meant for my ears only. “How much do I have to bribe your siblings for ten minutes alone with you?”
I lean closer, lips grazing his ear. “You might have to get creative. Around here, privacy isn’t an actual thing.”
The day rushes by in trees sold, cocoa spilled, kids taking turns riding the dolly cart. Jack and I work together, and every task becomes another chance to tease, to touch, to test the limits of how close we can get without crossing a line. He makes me laugh so hard I almost drop the cocoa pot, and when he slips a candy cane into my pocket, his fingers linger, setting every nerve on fire.
As dusk falls, the crowds thin, and the world turns golden. Jack pulls me aside behind the barn, out of sight.
“Tonight?” he asks, his voice rough with hope.
“Tonight,” I promise, leaning in for a quick, secret kiss.
The rest of the day, every glance and touch is a countdown. I can hardly wait for the lot to close, for the chance to finally be alone, really alone, with him.
When the last car drives away and the lights in the barn go dim, I know I’m not the only one burning.
Chapter eight
Jack
We get hot chocolate in town, laughing in the tiny bakery, feet tangled under the table. Her leg brushes mine again and again, deliberate, teasing. She scoops a dollop of whipped cream onto her finger and raises an eyebrow. “Want a taste?”
I lean in and lick it clean, sucking her fingertip into my mouth, letting my tongue swirl slowly and deeply. She gasps, her eyes wide, and I keep her hand in mine, nipping at her knuckle. “I want to taste all of you.”
She grins, shameless, and leans across the table. “You’d better, Jack Wilson.”
We leave in a rush of cold air and sparkling lights, her laughter echoing down Main Street as I pull her tight against my side. The ride to my house is silent except for the sound of our breathing,anticipation thick between us. My hand rests on her thigh, inching higher, her nails digging crescents into my wrist.
When we reach my place, I open the door and I’m on her instantly, pushing her against the entry wall, kissing me hard, wild, greedy. Our coats drop to the floor. I yank her into my arms, lifting her so her legs wrap around my waist, her hips grinding against me. She bites my lip, breathless.
“I need you,” she whispers, voice rough.
“You can have whatever you want,” I promise, carrying her straight to the couch and laying her out, my body covering hers.
We don’t bother with slow. I want her needy, frantic, falling apart beneath my hands. I kiss her like I want to devour her, mouths open and tongues tangled, teeth clashing, both of us gasping, fighting for air, only to crash together again.
Her sweater goes first, lifted over her head and tossed aside. I pause to take her in, the rise and fall of her chest, the flush climbing her neck. Her bra is thin red lace and so damn sexy.
I trail kisses over the tops of her breasts, savoring the way her back arches, desperate for more.
“Jack, please—” she begs, hands in my hair, pulling me closer.
I flick her nipple until it hardens, then capture it in my mouth, sucking hard, biting just enough to make her moan and writhe beneath me. My other hand moves lower, popping the button on her jeans, inching the zipper down, fingers tracing the line of her panties.
She helps me strip her down, baring her to the firelight. My mouth follows, trailing heat over her stomach, hips, inner thighs. She’s wet already, soaked, hot, her scent driving me mad.
I kiss the inside of her knee, then lick a slow, torturous line up her thigh, watching her squirm. My breath fans over her as I nuzzle closer, pressing open-mouthed kisses where she’s aching for me. I look up, hold her gaze, and slide my tongue overher clit, soft at first, then firmer, circling, flicking, until she’s writhing, begging, hands clutching the couch.
“Jack, oh, fuck, don’t stop, please…”
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just right, my mouth relentless, licking, sucking, fucking her with my tongue until she’s sobbing my name, her legs shaking around my shoulders, her whole body taut and trembling.
She comes hard, shuddering, nearly sobbing. I ride out every wave, not stopping until she pulls me up, dragging me into a rough, filthy kiss. She tastes herself on my lips, and it only makes her wilder.
“My turn,” she pants, pushing me back, fumbling with my belt. I help her, desperate, lifting my hips so she can shove my jeans and boxers down. She wraps her hand around me, slow at first, then stroking harder, twisting her wrist just right. Her mouth finds my neck, biting, her tongue tracing my jaw.
I groan, barely holding on. “You keep that up, I’m not going to last.”
She grins, eyes wicked. “Good. I want you to lose control.”
