Page 87 of A Very Merry Mistake

“Keep it up, and I might get used to it,” she warns.

A side smile meets my lips. “I hope you do.”

As she continues decorating, the oven sounds off. The house smells delicious, like cinnamon and ginger and sugar. I put the tray on the stovetop, allowing the cookies to sit for a minute before sliding them onto a mat on the counter.

“They’re still very hot,” I tell Claire as she reaches for one. Not caring, she picks it up, tossing it between her hands. “Stubborn Susan came out to play tonight, didn’t she?”

She sets the hot cookie down, waving her hands for a few seconds to cool them. It won’t do much good, considering they were baking at 350 degrees. “Should’ve listened.”

“Give them ten minutes and they should be okay to eat. Let me show you how to do the roof.”

Claire hands me the icing bag, and I draw wide U’s across the top in a row, just like my mama taught me all those years ago. “Then you just keep going.”

I give it back to her, and she continues it down and on the other side. Then she fills in every space with icing, adding green and red candy all around. “Oh, do you have a peppermint?”

“Actually, I do.” I grab the bag of them out of the pantry. She untwists one and places it right above the door, then steps back and overlooks her masterpiece.

“This is the best little gingerbread house I’ve seen in a long time.” I grin, loving how she strategically placed everything, and then I see CC and JJ written on the front. “Nice touch.”

She wraps her arms around me and looks up into my eyes. “Now, can we eat those cookies?”

“Ever had a gingerbread sandwich?” I ask. “Don’t make that face. You’re gonna like it.”

I squirt a bunch of icing on one cookie, then stack another on top, squishing it down. I pick it up and hand it to her. “Bet you can’t just have one.”

Claire grabs it and takes a small bite. Her eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth as she talks. “This is…incredible.”

“And that’s why it’s a secret recipe.”

We eat cookies and drink moonshine. It’s not the best combination, but I don’t care. We’ve got crumbs on our clothes and sticky fingers, and we’re happy. Genuinely happy. Not that bullshit, pretend, trying to impress someone after a night at the bar happy. I’m comfortable with her in ways that are hard to comprehend. I don’t know much about her past or her life in New York, but as we stand in my kitchen enjoying each other’s company, I don’t give a fuck.

After we eat almost all of the dozen cookies I baked, Claire moves to stand before me, parting my legs as she wraps her arms around my waist. I kiss her, tasting the sweetness of the alcohol and cookies combined. She moans against me, fisting my shirt with so much need and desire that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get enough of this woman. At this rate, I won’t.

Her gaze heated, Claire takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. I start the fire as she undresses. When I turn around, she’s naked, and in her hand is a bright pink vibrator. “I promised to show you.”

She places it in her mouth until it’s wet, and my cock nearly bursts from my pants at the sight of her.

“Shit,” I hiss.

“I have rules, though. No touching me. Having your eyes on me is enough. And you promised to show me, too.” She glances down at the tent between my legs.

“I have a request: no toys. I want to see you come without that.”

“Okay,” she whispers as she props a few pillows up, then climbs onto the bed. “I have another to add to our list. You can’t come until I do.”

I smirk. “Deal. I love a challenge.”

I remove my collared shirt and pants until I’m naked and stand at the end of the bed, loving that she’s on full display. It’s a show I’m eager to watch.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Claire.” I grab my cock; it’s thick and hard and begs to be inside her perfect pussy, but I’ll play this game.

Her eyes pierce through me as she widens her legs and slides her hand down to her clit. Slowly, she rubs circles, and a huff of breath escapes her while her pink nipples harden to rocks. Her breasts rise and fall as she teases herself.

I stroke myself, matching her pace. She sucks her bottom lip in her mouth, then slides her two tiny fingers inside her slick cunt. She’s gentle, moving in and out as she gasps. My focus is on her as she rubs sticky cum between her fingers before placing them between her lips.

“I have a confession,” she says, moving her opposite hand back to her clit as she enjoys the flavor. “I’ve never tasted myself before you.”

I grunt, loving these confessions she’s giving me. “You like it, don’t you?”

---