Stuck With You: A Christmas Romance

by Lara Swann

  The pent-up desire is coiled tight within me, a hot tension that’s already aching for release, and I can feel how slick and ready I am for him, how much I want this.

  “Tristan…” I gasp. “Please…”

  I’m not sure what I’m asking for - what I need - but he breaks off the kiss to leave a trail of them down my body, nibbling and sucking, running his tongue around my sensitive, aching nipples, before heading lower and settling between my legs. The first touch of his mouth on my pussy almost makes me scream, arching backward into the bed as I grip onto the bars of the headboard above me, his tongue stroking up and down my inner lips and flicking at my clit, the strength and power behind it making me gasp.

  It’s not slow and steady, this—it’s hard and passionate and absolutely perfect, already driving me out of my mind with need, but it’s not enough. I want more…need more…I can’t wait any longer.

  “Fuck, Tristan…I’m ready for you.” I mutter. “I want to…feel you…”

  He groans, the sound vibrating against my pussy and making me moan all over again, and then he’s back with me in an instant, lining himself up against me so I can feel the hint of his cock nudging at my entrance.

  “Yes…fuck, yes…”

  He grasps my hips and waits until I meet his eyes, then thrusts inside me in one hard, powerful motion that lights up every nerve I have, his thick cock filling me and stretching my tight pussy as I cry out in pleasure. Fuck, it’s been months, and I let out a low moan as I adjust to the sensation of Tristan seated deep within me. My pussy almost convulses around him as he rides up against my inner walls …and then he starts moving, and fuck all over again. My whole body feels charged and electric as I whimper with the pleasure of it, every slight movement setting me alight.

  He speeds up and within moments settles into a rhythm, fucking me hard and fast as I cry out from the delicious heat building within me. I gasp as I adjust—and then I’m there with him, needing more, my legs wrapped around his hips and my arms around his neck as I start moving in time with him, my body arching up into every thrust he offers.

  “Fuck…fuck…yes…” I mutter, and he chuckles above me, but I can hear the strain there - sense the need in him - as he kisses me hard.

  “God, I’ve missed this so much…” He groans, pulling me closer and burying himself inside of me again and again, every stroke filling me perfectly, the friction of his thick cock against my inner walls driving me crazy, making my toes start curling in anticipation.

  “Me too…” I say, gasping hard, barely able to think through the fervor within me. “Me too.”

  I’ve missed him so much…but I don’t say that. Not right now. Not yet.

  Instead, I simply give into the pleasure of it, this primal feeling, moving with him and letting him take me higher and higher, his body giving me everything I need as we kiss and writhe together. I moan and cry out mindlessly, feeling the pressure in me building with every stroke, every thrust, every frantic movement he gives me.

  This desperate, carnal lust might not be the way I’d pictured this would happen if we ever saw each other again, but it’s everything I could have asked for—better than that—impossibly better than anything I’d imagined.

  “Fuck, Lauren…fucking hell…”

  “Yes…damn it, Tristan…yes…more…faster…fuck…”

  I cling to him as he finally propels us both over that edge, stars exploding behind my eyes as my body gives into seemingly endless waves of pleasure, every nerve-ending on fire. My pussy clenches and throbs, milking him as he buries himself deep inside me and his own climax rips through him. We cling tightly to each other as he fucks me through it, driving us both ever higher until I fall over the edge again, shuddering and whimpering beneath him as my mind goes blank and everything in my body seems to release, the power of it overwhelming me as I shudder again and again.

  When I finally come down from that high, we’re lying tangled together on the bed, both of us panting from the exertion…and the release.

  “Fucking hell.” I mutter, turning to curl into him, my mind still spinning and my breathing all over the place. All my languid, aching body wants to do is cuddle up to him and lie there for a while. “We might have had enough time to fuck…I’m not so sure I’ve got enough time to recover.”

  He chuckles beside me, stroking my hair back from my face and leaning in to kiss me softly. It’s not the recovery I had in mind - if anything, it just starts to wake my body up again, emphasizing all of those aching places - but by the end of it, I think I’m grounded enough to be back in this world.

  “I’ll help.” He says, his voice warm and filled with so many things.

  Before I can say anything else, he’s lifting me up—fuck, how does have have the energy for that, I can barely move my own body—and setting me down in the shower. The warm water is an immediately welcome sensation, invigorating and relaxing me all at once and I sink back against the tiled wall with a sigh - but as soon as I see the water cascading off his hard, muscular body, the problem with this plan is immediately obvious.

  “I’m not so sure this is a good idea.” I say, laughing as he steps up to me and kisses me all over again. I wrap my arms around his shoulders anyway, enjoying the warmth and steam rising between us, and suddenly disappointed we didn’t think of this when we had more time. “It might just delay me more.”

  “Not if I help you get ready.” He murmurs, taking the shower gel and squirting it on his hands, before starting to rub it all over me. I moan, unable to stop myself, and lean into him all over again.

  Fuck it, I can spare another few minutes. And the shower is helping.

  It leads exactly where I think it’s going to, but it’s far too good for me to possibly object to, and he kneels down to bring me to a climax all over again with just his mouth and fingers, before he’s fully satisfied.

  Then he rises and kisses me once again.

  “Now I’ll go.” He murmurs, stroking my cheek softly as he meets my eyes. “See you tomorrow, Lauren.”

  “See you tomorrow.” I breathe.

  If my body is still working then.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tristan

  I arrive at the hotel for Hannah’s wedding the next day, expecting to feel far more out of place than I actually do as I make my way through the foyer and follow the signs directing me to the ceremony. Instead, all I can think about are those moments with Lauren yesterday afternoon, the look in her eyes when I showed up at her office, and how glad I am that I bit the bullet and just did it.

  “Can I help you?”

  I look over to see a man approaching me from a doorway with a few people milling around it, wearing a formal suit with tails and an easy smile. I return it, nodding to him.

  “I’m Tristan Moore.” I say, introducing myself. I have no idea whether Lauren has even told anyone I’m coming. “I’m Lauren Jackson’s plus one—afraid I don’t know anybody, though.”

  “Ah, that’s the trouble with weddings sometimes.” He says, his friendly manner immediately making me like him. “I’m Frederick. The bride’s side is over on the left, there. Most of Hannah’s family are with the bridal party, but her brother and cousins are there now—near the front. I could take you over and introduce you, if you like?”

  I cast a glance towards the room, taking in the buzz of people, and offer him a slightly crooked smile.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I think maybe it’d be best if I just took a place at the back. I’d rather not interrupt them.”

  His eyes sparkle knowingly and he nods. “Sure thing. Go right on through when you’re ready then.”

  “Thanks.” I say, and he turns to welcome another guest as I continue on into the room. There are still more people arriving, even though the place looks pretty full already.

  It’s an impressive room, too, with big arched ceilings and little alcoves set throughout filled with warm lamps, as well as beautiful lilac decorations running along the rows of chair
s. A lot of them look homemade, too, and it’s immediately obvious how much effort has gone into this wedding. I think of all Lauren’s talk about the plans and preparations for this day, and feel a strange warmth at the idea that I’m here to see the result of it.

  I find a nondescript place at the back and watch as the room slowly fills and people start to take their seats, unable to help my curiosity as I glance over to where Frederick indicated Lauren’s family were. She really wasn’t kidding when she said she had a big family - and it doesn’t look like the groom’s is much smaller - and I find myself both overwhelmed and slightly fascinated as I watch them all talking and bantering with each other.

  What would it be like to have so many people around you? To support you and care for you? To rely on and talk to?

  Not all families are like that, of course, and I know better than to think the surface-level interactions I can see mean anything deeper, but still…there’s a warmth in here, with all these people gathered together, so obviously happy for the bride and groom.

  I’m so absorbed that it takes me a moment to notice that the chatter has finally subsided - and then the doors open and the music starts up. I stand up with everyone else, turning towards the doorway, all other thoughts disappearing as I watch the bridal procession begin.

  A little girl and two boys walk down the aisle first, dressed adorably formally and holding baskets of petals, with the bride not far behind them. Hannah looks lovely, in an elegant white dress that trails along the floor, smiling radiantly at everyone she walks slowly past, but I barely notice any of that. Instead, my eyes are drawn straight to Lauren, who looks simply gorgeous in a beautiful lilac dress, with her hair curled and bouncing on her shoulders and her face just glowing with pride. My heart thumps hard in my chest and I swallow slightly to see it. Damn, but she’s beautiful.

  Her gaze finds mine almost immediately, despite the fact I’m not sitting with her family, and a pinkish tint comes to her cheeks as she blushes, giving me a small, soft smile before looking back toward her sister. They walk past and I find that I’m smiling, suddenly just as much a part of the crowd of warm, happy people around me as anyone else here.

  Hannah approaches the officiant and Lauren, along with the other bridesmaids, separates to join the rest of her family. After that, the ceremony passes quicker than I expect, in a blur of lively songs, sweet readings and the vows being given. Once everything is done, we stand up as Hannah and Justin walk back down the aisle, throwing confetti while they grin and kiss each other, and the photographer takes what must be some really good photos. I’m surprised how long it’s taken me to notice him - and I don’t even try to scope out his set up, because a moment later everyone is laughing and chatting and following the just-married couple out of the room—and Lauren appears in front of me, smiling widely.

  “Tristan!” She grins, stepping into my arms to hug me tight. She’s got flowers in her hair and she’s holding several things that I’m sure are for Hannah’s benefit. “You came!”

  I laugh, as she steps back enough to look at me, her face flushed with the excitement at seeing her sister married.

  “You thought I’d fly all this way and then not come to the wedding?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.

  “Well…” She glances back over her shoulder, biting her lip a little. “I’d understand if it was a bit intimidating.”

  “It is a bit.” I admit, smiling. “But I can handle—”

  “Lauren!”

  We both turn towards the voice, then Lauren curses.

  “Ah damn, they’ll want me for the photos.” She turns back to me, stepping up on her toes to brush her lips across mine briefly. “Sorry about this—that’s part of the reason I didn’t want to invite anyone. You come just for me and I spend half my time doing bridesmaid-stuff.”

  “That’s okay.” I say. “I knew what I was getting myself into.”

  “I’ll catch up with you after the food—promise. And probably sneak over during it, too.” She grins at me, and I kiss her one last time, harder, before she disappears again. There’s a skip to her step, an energy and happiness there that I’m more than a little relieved to see—and that makes all of this worth it.

  I watch the photos for a little while, more interested in the photographer than the procession of different groupings of family members, and by the time we’re ushered into another room for the meal I’m eternally grateful that my job doesn’t require me to organize or manage large groups of people. Finding just the right moment, with perfect lighting and timing…I can do that. Orchestrating it? Fuck no.

  I’m surprised by the number of people in Lauren’s family who come up to me, as well, wanting to check in on me or make sure that I feel welcome and I’m not stuck standing alone. It’s a small thing, but I wasn’t expecting it and even though making small talk with strangers isn’t my favorite thing, it’s still a gesture that goes a long way towards making me feel part of the day.

  That feeling only grows as I finding my assigned seat on a table with Lauren’s cousins, instead of the mismatched group of ‘extras’ I was expecting. They turn out to be a lively, fun group of people, who despite their obvious bond with each other, don’t seem the least put out about a complete stranger joining them. Instead, they’re thrilled when I say I’m Lauren’s plus-one, and within moments we’re talking and laughing together as they regale me with stories from when she was little—an opportunity I wouldn’t trade for anything.

  Lauren, as Head Bridesmaid, is sat on the high table, but our eyes drift over towards each other more than once as we eat, and I catch her mouthed ‘thank you’ too. I just smile. I’m looking forward to when I can catch up with her properly, but for the moment, it’s enough that she knows I’m here—and she doesn’t seem like she’s struggling too much with any of this.

  The speeches roll around, and they’re actually genuinely amusing, even for someone who doesn’t know any of the context for the jokes - although Kerry next to me whispering a few explanations certainly helps. It’s an odd feeling, though, watching Hannah - and Lauren’s - father tell stories of when his daughter was a little girl, and I can’t help wondering what it would be like, to have people who’d been there for my whole life.

  If Nana was still around, she would have been able to tell stories about my childhood, I’m sure…but there would never have been this large group of people to listen. Who would have been interested?

  I’m still thinking about it when the speeches end and most people head outside for some air while the hotel set up the dance floor in the room that held the ceremony earlier.

  “Tristan? Are you okay?”

  I look up to see Lauren standing next to me, concern on her face.

  “Yeah, just…lost in thought.” I say, then shake my head, coming out of it as I stand up to pull her in towards me, offering her a smile. “Never mind. How are you doing?”

  “I’m good.” She says, tilting her head as she regards me carefully. “Are you sure? Kerry and Jackson didn’t give you a hard time or anything?”

  “No, no, not at all. Your family is lovely, Lauren. They’ve been really welcoming.” I say, with genuine warmth, then my smile turns a little more wicked. “Jackson was telling me all sorts of stories from when you were younger, actually.”

  “Oh god.” She groans, closing her eyes and dropping her head to my chest. Her hands curve around the top of my pants too, hooking into my belt loops. “You shouldn’t listen to anything he says. He’s been on a vendetta against my younger self since we were children.”

  “Because you stole his bike when you were ten?”

  “I didn’t steal it!” She scowls at me. “This isn’t fair, he’s biased you on his version of events while I wasn’t even there to defend myself! And you’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “Well, I guess that’s just because he got in there first. If you want to tell me the rest of your childhood stories before he has a chance to…” I point out suggestively.

  “No.
Nuh-uh. No way.” She shakes her head emphatically.

  “That’s okay.” I say understandingly. “I’ll just have to get them from—”

  “Nope!” She states firmly, grabbing my hand and turning to pull me with her towards the room with the dance floor. “You’re not doing that either—because now that all the formal bits are done, I’m keeping you with me for the rest of the night.”

  “Mmm…” I murmur, unable to help my instinctive response. I stop her in her tracks by wrapping my arms around her from behind and leaning down towards her ear. “I’ll take that compromise.”

  I feel her shudder against me and I have to remind my cock this is not the place to start getting excited as a blush creeps over her face, her eyes bright as they flick up to me.

  “Damn, Tristan…” She whispers, and I have to let her go or I know I’m just going to kiss her again…and not in the sedate, family-friendly kind of way. She turns back around to face me, shaking her head with a wry smile as she recovers some of her composure.

  “You’re dangerous.” She accuses, but her face is shining with warmth. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” I smile, squeezing the hand she’s still holding. “Me too, Lauren.”

  “C’mon.” She says. “I need to grab some water if I’m going to transition safely from meal-time drinks to the party drinks of the next few hours.”

  “Sure.” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and walking with her towards the bar that’s now opening up.

  “Lauren!”

  We don’t get halfway there before we’re interrupted, one of the other bridesmaids running up to ask about something left in a bag somewhere. Lauren sighs as she turns to, looking apologetic.

  “It’s fine.” I say, amused despite myself. I don’t exactly want her to disappear again, but at this point it seems an inevitable part of being sister of the bride. Lots of fires to put out. “I’ll grab the water and you can meet me at the bar—or the dance floor, if the first dance gets going before you’re back.”