Stuck With You: A Christmas Romance

by Lara Swann

  Me: I doubt it, if two weeks together didn’t work. You’re stubborn as hell, Tristan.

  Tristan: Says you. Obviously, this is me starting to relent…

  I pretend to myself that I have no idea what he means by that first part, all while smirking to myself.

  Me: Mm, if that’s true, maybe I should even come to San Diego for it. All these pictures of the different places you get to travel to are starting to make me jealous… :P

  Tristan: Hah. Yeah, I’m pretty lucky with that - although admittedly, I only send you the highlights. Didn’t think you’d be interested in pics of the dime-a-dozen motels I end up in every night…I’m starting to get really fucking bored of those. I think that cabin in Aspen has spoiled me…I’ve never cared about accommodations before.

  Me: Hah, it’s my time in Aspen that’s definitely given me the itch to travel more. I’ll take your advice and avoid the boring motel rooms, though…I’m sure a five star resort would fix that kind of problem.

  Tristan: Travel more? You spent as much time as you could in Aspen in the cabin!

  I laugh in spite of myself. Damn guy always knows just how to provoke me.

  Me: Hey, it was my recovery vacation! I was enjoying being self-indulgent for a while!

  Tristan: Yeah, I noticed…

  Me: Hey, you! Besides, it worked! I’m a new woman now - you should see me - doing loads of new things, getting my life back on track, being the best damn bridesmaid Hannah could ever ask for—

  Oh shit.

  I look up at the time guiltily and jump up from the couch, quickly typing another message as I move.

  Me: Oops, gotta go. I’m late for a wedding-planning-family-dinner with Hannah and my parents!

  Tristan just sends back far too many laughing emojis and I know just what he’s so amused about. Yeah, okay, the timing of those messages was not the best, I will admit, but the first still had plenty of truth to it. I flip him off in emoji form - ignoring the fact I probably owe a lot of my recent successes to him and the vacation we had together - and then throw my phone on the bed to change clothes as quickly as I can.

  I can still get full points for being the best damn bridesmaid ever if I’m only a few minutes late…right?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tristan

  I stare at the blank screen in front of me, the cursor blinking at me tauntingly as I try to start writing this article. For some reason, the words that usually come so easily have been eluding me recently, and it’s getting harder to force myself to get the damn things done. I still love the events, the atmosphere and the photographs I come away with, but this part of it…this feels like hitting my head against a brick wall at the moment.

  My phone buzzes to the side of me - the phone that should be on silent, but never is these days - and I reach for it gratefully, then smile as I see the expected source of the distraction.

  Lauren: Hey, you up to much tonight?

  Me: Just holed up in my apartment trying to get an article written.

  Lauren: Oh sorry, probably shouldn’t distract you.

  Me: No no, please do. It’s driving me crazy right now. Besides, I find that when it comes to writing, there’s a perfect balance between procrastination and work.

  Lauren: You sound like some of my authors.

  That makes me smile, even if that balance has definitely skewed far too much towards procrastination lately - but I’m not about to tell Lauren that. If I did that, she might actually stop messaging.

  Me: I sympathize with them greatly. So, what’s up?

  Lauren: Nothing.

  I raise one eyebrow. I might not be great at reading people through messages, but that definitely means ‘something’. I wait, and a moment later she starts typing again.

  Lauren: Well, okay, something.

  Lauren: It’s my sister’s wedding next week.

  Me: Ah shit, that’s come around quickly.

  I knew it was happening soon, of course, but it’s hard to believe the months have passed so quickly. It feels like only yesterday we were back in Aspen together.

  Lauren: Yeah, tell me about it. I thought I was fine with it now, but…I don’t know, it’s harder now that it’s closer.

  I nod, even though she can’t see me, leaning back into my chair and putting my feet up on the desk as I try to work out what I can say. I wish I could just take her into my arms and hold her for a while, like I would if we were still in Aspen, but messages don’t work that way.

  Me: Yeah, of course. Are you going with anyone?

  Lauren: No, I don’t think so. I thought about asking a friend, but I think that would feel weird - like just highlight to me that I don’t have anyone else to take. And it’s so last minute now that it would be obvious it’s because I’m struggling with the whole thing, and then everyone would be looking over their shoulder to check I’m okay the whole time.

  Damn. I can totally understand why she’s thinking that way…but I don’t like the idea of her going alone, either. I know how difficult this is for her. Before I can think of a way to respond, she continues typing again.

  Lauren: I should be able to go by myself. I’m a strong, independent woman, you know? And besides, I want to focus on Hannah.

  Me: Even strong, independent women need support sometimes, too.

  Lauren: Thanks.

  I might not be great at reading tone in messages, but I can read Lauren, and I smile at the obviously droll tone there.

  Me: Sorry, I’m even worse at thinking of helpful things to say via message than I am in person.

  Lauren: Nah, you were never bad - at either of those. And besides, it’s helpful just to be able to vent to someone, without having everyone I know suddenly start worrying about me all over again.

  Me: Me worrying about you doesn’t count?

  Lauren: So long as you don’t start messaging me every few hours to see how I’m ‘holding up’, I think we’re good.

  Me: Damn. There goes that plan.

  I’m joking…but only just.

  Lauren: Also, you make me laugh. So that’s a plus.

  Lauren: I’m fine, Tristan, really. I’m doing okay with it all. It’s just sometimes, you know?

  Me: Yeah. I know.

  I really do, and I can feel my heart beating in sympathy for her. The things each of us have dealt with in life might have been very different, but when you get right down to it, the emotions are pretty similar.

  Lauren: And when it actually comes to the day, it’ll be fine. I’ll be far too distracted by watching my sister marry the man of her dreams and getting all gooey-eyed and emotional over it to worry about anything else. Then I’ll get drunk and have the party of a lifetime. It’ll be great.

  I smile, watching as she pulls herself through the emotional blip and emerges out on the other side. She really is a strong woman, even if she thinks she’s only pretending to be - knowing just how to reach out, to talk and acknowledge the struggle, then to force herself through it and end on a high anyway.

  Me: Sounds like a plan.

  I pause, getting the feeling she’s probably done with that conversation, but wanting to say something more anyway. I’m not sure what, but however strong she’s acting, I still don’t like the idea of—

  Lauren: I bought your book, by the way.

  I blink, as she changes the subject before I can formulate the thoughts, let alone the words to express them, then sigh as I lean back.

  Okay, I guess we’re definitely done with that, then. Maybe I can bring it up again later…

  Wait—my book?!

  Me: My book? The photography compilation that just came out?

  Lauren: Yep, that’s the one.

  Me: You didn’t have to do that - I would have sent you a copy if I’d known you wanted it.

  I’m smiling, though. It’s stupid, but I feel oddly touched - that she knew it was out before I’d even mentioned it, and that she wanted it at all.

  Lauren: Nah, I wanted to buy it. I’ll leave a review t
oo - I know from experience what a difference review count makes to our authors.

  Me: Damn, thanks Lauren. On both counts. I really appreciate it.

  Lauren: Don’t thank me just yet. You haven’t seen the review. I’m thinking something like… “Disappointed. No nudes.”

  I laugh out loud, the message catching me by surprise, and immediately start grinning.

  Me: Well, I guess I could always start working on a second edition…

  Lauren: Hah! What happened to the respectable photographer?

  Me: You corrupted him.

  Lauren: Well, I like the sound of that.

  I’m smirking when the phone pings and an image flashes across the screen—and then I almost fall out of my chair as the sight of Lauren’s chest appears before me. It’s not quite a nude - and there are certainly no identifying features - but I’d recognize those gorgeous breasts, cupped by a very provocative lacy black bra, anywhere. She’s still got a blouse shirt on too, but it’s open down to her stomach and…fuck.

  Me: Shit, Lauren. I wasn’t actually asking…

  I can’t stop looking at it, though. My cock has started to harden already and…fucking hell.

  Lauren: You don’t like it?

  Me: Fuck.

  She just sends a laughing emoji back, the fucking tease.

  Lauren: You’re not allowed to put that in your book. And you have to tell me what you’re going to do with it…

  I groan, closing my eyes and leaning back in the chair as my breath comes harder. We’re really doing this? I can’t believe how much I want it, but I also don’t want to…you know…be that guy.

  Me: I’m not sure you want to know.

  Lauren: It’s been weeks and I haven’t had any luck with the dating apps. Believe me, I want to know.

  Oh, fuck. Okay. Screw my self-control. My cock is raging hard now, just from the promise and temptation behind those words, and that picture…

  Lauren: Do you want to know what I’m doing?

  Oh god. Heat rushes through my blood as I can’t help wondering whether I’ve died and gone to heaven. We’re really fucking doing this.

  Me: More than anything.

  I push back from the desk, abandoning the chair in favor of the bed on the other side of the room, lying with my head propped up against the wooden headboard. I watch the ‘typing’ indicator in heady anticipation, wondering if she’s drawing it just to play with me…when her name flashes up on the screen instead, the phone buzzing with a call. I answer it immediately, to hear her throaty voice on the other end, laced with humor.

  “Sorry, it’s hard typing with one hand. I thought this might be easier.”

  “I—” My voice comes out strangled as I parse that comment, unable to stop myself groaning before I get myself under control, and when I finally respond, my voice is deep and heated. “And why would you be typing with one hand?”

  She giggles in my ear and I think it’s the best thing I’ve heard all week.

  Shit. Why haven’t we tried calling each other before?

  “Well…” She murmurs, dragging it out with a delicious temptation to her voice. “I’m lying on the bed…naked…with my fingers circling over those breasts, brushing the nipples with my thumb…”

  “Fuck.” I mutter, my head falling back against the headboard as my cock surges in my pants. I’m already aching for her, and she’s barely said anything yet. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve been trying to avoid thinking of you like that when we message?”

  I ask, my voice strangled even as amusement fills it.

  “Really? Why?” She asks, almost innocently.

  “Well, because…” I stumble. Isn’t it fucking obvious? “I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

  “Oh, really?” That giggle is back in her voice. “Well, if you’re feeling awkward about it, I guess I could always put my clothes back on…”

  “Fucking hell. You’re a little tease, aren’t you?” I growl, though it only makes my blood hotter. I love when she’s in this mood…and it led to some of our best sex over the vacation, too.

  “Mmm…I can’t deny that I’m enjoying this…”

  “God damn, Lauren, your voice…”

  She laughs, and that only makes it worse. The image of her lying there, like that…

  “God, I wish I could be there with you.” I murmur back. “Taking your tits into my mouth and sucking on them, my hands all over your body...”

  “I wish it was your mouth instead of my hands…” She breathes, and I have to stifle a groan, not wanting to miss a thing she says. “Your tongue over my hard nipples, flicking and teasing them the way you do so well…”

  I unbuckle my belt as she talks, opening my fly and slipping my own hand inside to grasp my hard, throbbing cock. It slides free and I can’t suppress the groan as I wrap my hand around it, the rough friction nothing like Lauren’s hand…or mouth…or pussy…but feeling so damn good anyway.

  “Mm…tell me what you’re doing, Tristan…” Lauren asks, her voice hot in my ear. “I sent you that picture and you haven’t told me anything yet…”

  I groan again, my voice hot and strained as I describe what I’m doing.

  “I’ve got my hand wrapped around my cock, squeezing it hard as I pull…long and slow…just getting started…it’s red and throbbing already, just the sound of your voice…fuck, Lauren…”

  I’m not even looking at the picture - I can’t, not while we’re talking like this - but I don’t need it. I’d much rather have her voice in my ear, the images of the things she’s describing in my mind, than anything else right now.

  “Oh god…” Her response is breathy and I can hear the bed moving as she shifts on the other end of the phone. “That’s so fucking hot, Tristan. I love picturing you like that. Your cock out and throbbing for me…waiting…eager…wish I could be there…kiss and lick and suck my way down your body…take that hard cock fully inside me, swallow it down…”

  “Shit, Lauren.”

  I have to slow my hand down, even though that’s the last thing I want, because the images she’s putting in my mind right now are just too much and I’m not sure what it will take before I explode. I take a firmer grip instead, slow and steady, everything in me already starting to build to a height I haven’t felt in far too long.

  “Maybe I should move my hand lower…” She suggests, and I groan in response.

  “Yes…” I rasp, my blood pounding hard in my veins. “I want to hear how wet you are for me…what you’re thinking about right now…”

  She laughs again, that hot-as-fire sultry sound, and there’s a pause before she continues slowly.

  “I’m circling down now, teasing myself with little touches and coming so close before backing away…but I’m too turned on to resist for long, and…ohh, Tristan…I’m soaking down there, my finger sliding over my warm, slick lips as I spread it around. I can feel the moisture seeping out of me as I play with my clit, getting myself all on edge and just wanting…my pussy clenching in anticipation…”

  “Thrust them inside.” I say, my tone guttural and coarse. “Hard and deep, just like I would…like I want to fuck you right now. I want to hear you split yourself open for me.”

  “Ahhhh!” She cries out, and it’s the best fucking sound. “I…I…I…”

  She’s panting, but I can tell what she’s doing without her saying a word, and my cock leaks all over my hand as I imagine it. Her fingers driving in and out of her pussy, the way it will be gushing all over her hand while she writhes on the bed as she seeks more, more, more.

  “Fuck yourself. Like I would. Hard and fast, those fingers scissoring, curling, riding right up against your walls.” I continue, encouraging her ever onward, wanting to imagine the way it will be building for her, picturing myself there doing just that. My hand has sped up all of its own accord and my cock pulses in my grip, my voice getting deeper and more strained with every moment.

  “Yes…yes…I’m doing that…” She gasps, clear
ly trying to keep up with talking to me too, but it’s obvious how much harder it’s getting…and hearing her slowly come undone like that is better than anything she could possibly say right now—knowing what I can reduce her to—what I do to her. It’s so fucking hot.

  “You…” She moans, the sound of it running right through me. “What are…you…”

  “I’m stroking myself.” I say, the words coming out guttural and harsh now as everything in me tightens up, the pressure mounting. “My cock…is so hard…throbbing…stroking hard now, getting faster…can’t stop…”

  “Fuck yes.” She mutters. “Don’t stop…”

  “Want you so bad…wish I was there…inside you…fucking you hard…”

  “I…I…” She says, letting out another long, low moan. “Thumbing my clit, flicking it hard, want more, want you…close…so close…”

  “Yes, fuck, yes…me too…” I grunt out, barely able to make myself form the words as just the sound of her moaning on the other end of the phone threatens to send me over the edge.

  “Tristan, Tristan, I—aaeehhh!”

  She screams and it’s the best thing I’ve heard in months, the sound going right through me and somehow catching me by surprise, everything that had been building inside me tensing in an instant and then…exploding outward. I let out a low groan and then my hips buck up off the bed, thrusting into my hand hard enough that I see stars, as pleasure sweeps through me in one impossible, hot burst.

  I fuck my hand through it, my breathing harsh and unsteady, unable to believe just how strong the climax is, and it takes a few minutes before I can find my way down from it, barely noticing that I’ve dropped the phone and its landed beside me on the bed.

  I shift so it’s nearer my ear and can barely hear Lauren’s light whimpers on the other end, her little moans…and I almost think that might be enough to revive my thoroughly spent cock, but I finally let my hand slip away and try to get my breathing under control as I scoop up the phone again with my other hand.

  “Lauren…?” I murmur softly, my head still spinning and my body somehow more tangled in the covers than I was expecting.