by Goode, Ella
“I’m showing you this not because I want to hurt you.” Unlike her, who intentionally tried to hurt me. “I’m showing you because either way he’s a dick.” I point toward the door where I’m guessing Ben is probably standing outside. “What I don’t get is why you hooked me up with someone with the intention of hurting me?”
She swipes the phone off the counter, causing it to hit the floor with a loud crack. Conn starts to move but I grip his arm tighter so he doesn’t. Smittens hops on the back of the sofa to glare at Trish like she always does. My cat hates her. Always has. Ben too. I should have known. She loves Conn though.
“Where’s Bear?” I look up at Conn, realizing he’s not here. My sister mumbles something about how terrible the Christmas decorations look. I want to slap her now. All the other things she’s done and said, I can let slide, but her putting down Conn is going to be my breaking point.
“Doing his job,” he answers. His death glare remains on Trish.
“He has a job?” What kind of job could Bear have?
“Watching dipshit outside.” He looks down at me for a moment. The side of his mouth turns up as he looks at me. His eyes go soft. Yeah, Conn is rough around the edges but he is trying to be sweet with me. I like to think I bring it out in him.
“Little Miss Faith. The one that’s always so perfect and nice,” Trish snips. “Why can’t you be more like Faith? She’s happy with what she has. Why aren't you more grateful?” I know she’s repeating someone else’s words but I’m not sure whose. “That’s all I hear from Mom and Dad.” She answers my unspoken question. I’ve never heard them say any of those things. I was always looked over. At least it felt that way.
“Now I’m in trouble because you took off! It was only sex, Faith. It means nothing. Get over your little ass tantrum and come home. You’re being ridiculous. Benjamin said you wouldn't put out! Men have needs. You should thank me for having sex with him for you.” I don’t understand why she’s now mad that Ben wants me if she never wanted him. Heck, I’m not sure Trish knows what she wants. She clearly has issues and I am sick of being the person she takes those out on. I want her out of my life. She is only here because she upset my stepmom and dad. That’s where she gets all of her money. It’s the only reason she’s trying to get me to come home. She also doesn't seem to care that some of the texts Ben sent me where downright creepy.
“Sex with someone like Faith isn’t just sex,” Conn says. His voice is calmer now. I look up at him. One of his big hands comes up to cup my face. “It would be like finding heaven.” My heart turns over in my chest. I can’t believe he said something so sweet. “One might even make an ass out of themselves in hopes of her letting them get a little bit of that heaven.”
“Conn.” I breathe out his name. Yeah, he is rough around the edges but he is smoothing those out for me. I don't want him to lose all of his roughness. It is a part of why I love him so much. My breath catches. I love him. Is this love that I’ve been feeling?
A loud growl comes from outside. “Sounds like Ben has a death wish.” Conn rounds the counter, grabbing my stepsister by the arm while pushing her toward the door.
“What are you doing?” She tries to jerk from his hold. Conn opens the door and releases her at the same time as she jerks from him again. She stumbles out the door onto the front porch. Bear stands on the porch with his teeth bared, growling at my ex. Ben stands there stock still, his face is as white as the snow that is coming down.
“My coat!” Trish screeches. “This is Burberry.” She pushes to her feet trying to clean the snow off the coat.
“Bear, heel.” Bear sits down instantly and stops growling.
“Are you going to let him treat me this way?” Trish asks Ben, whose eyes are bouncing between Conn and me.
“Are you Conn Wilson?” Ben asks.
“Leave. Both of you.” Conn doesn't answer him.
“Like the Conn Wilson?” Ben tries again.
“How does he know you?” I whisper, looking to Conn.
“Because Conn Wilson created an artificial intelligence module that sniffed out micro transactions some traders had been using to defraud companies out of billions of dollars. He sold that to a banking consortium for like a billion dollars and then dropped off the face of the earth.”
I stand there shocked. Trish throws herself at him. Conn side-steps her and she face plants into the snow. I can’t stop myself from laughing. I look over at Conn, who is also smiling at the scene in front of him.
“You have ten seconds before I go inside and get my shotgun. One, two—”
Ben jumps down from the porch and begins to hightail it to the SUV, leaving Trish in the snow.
Chapter Fifteen
Faith
“He’ll come back for me,” Trish says, shivering in the wool blanket Faith wrapped around her shoulders. I’m not sure why we’re giving out clothes, coverings, and scotch to this person. Yeah, she was abandoned in the snow by the asshole but maybe that’s where she deserves to be.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to make that decision. Faith is the one calling those shots. I get to making some food. Those pancakes won’t cook themselves.
“Sure he will,” Faith says, but her tone isn’t convincing.
I pour the dry ingredients into a bowl and mix up the buttermilk and eggs.
“He was just caught off guard. I mean...you’re kind of his hero and to hear you talk to him like that was really mean.”
There’s a small pocket of silence during which I slap some butter onto the griddle. It makes a nice sizzling sound.
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
I pop my head up to realize that the stepsister is talking to me. “Not really.” I shrug and turn back to my cakes. “How hungry are you?”
“I’m not hungry at all.”
“Starving,” answers Faith.
“I’ll make two dozen. We can freeze the extras and you can nuke one if you get hungry.”
“I can’t believe the two of you are talking about food right now!” screeches Trish.
“She’s right,” adds Faith. “We have to do something with her. Can we send her to King’s?”
“We could.” I flip over the cakes and smile in satisfaction at the perfect golden finish. “But then I’d have to let King shoot me at least once.”
“Well, that’s not good.”
“Who’s King?”
“He’s a rich guy that lives down the street,” I answer. Maybe if he just shoots me in the fleshy part of my thigh, it’d be okay. At least we’d be rid of this harpy.
“Couldn’t you pay him?”
“He’s not really running a hotel.” And he doesn’t need the money. Like me, he made it in an old life and he turned to the woods up here for privacy. I don’t know much about his story. It’s not something I need to know. Likewise, he left me alone.
“I’m not leaving here. Ben will be back as soon as his”—Trish waves her hand—“whatever is going on passes.”
“Why not call him?” I suggest. The first round of cakes are done. I pile a short stack together and pour the strawberries on top. “Whip cream?” I ask, pointing to the bowl of whipped milk and sugar.
“You don’t ever have to ask that question because the answer will always be yes,” declares Faith. She leaves Trish’s side and comes over to the counter. I grab her a fork and pour her a glass of milk.
“What are we doing with the girl?”
“I don’t know.” Faith looks a bit helpless. “It’s too cold to kick her out.”
“I only have the one bedroom,” I tell her.
“I know that and trust me, I don’t want to spend Christmas with her either.”
“God, these decorations are tacky. I can’t believe that with all your money, you’re forcing this kind of thing on Faith,” Trish loudly announces.
Faith whirls around, her fork up like a weapon. “The decorations are awesome and rustic.”
“Rustic? That’s what you
’re calling painted lightbulbs and what are these things on the tree? These blobs smushed together?”
“They’re snowmen,” I answer stiffly. Making homemade decorations isn’t my thing. I can cook, keep a house tidy, do some coding if I feel like it, chop wood and mow grass. I slide a glance toward Faith. Is that enough for her?
“Anyone with eyes can see that they’re snowmen, Trish.” Faith stomps over to the tree and wrestles the ornament out of Trish’s hand. “Everything here is homemade because that’s the way we want it. You heard Ben. My man could buy out the entire Christmas decoration industry but because he cares about me so much, he made all of this for me.”
“Your man?”
My man? A pulse of energy charges down my spine and settles in my dick. That’s the first word of ownership I’ve heard from her mouth and it sounds damn good.
“Yes, my man.” Faith leaves the tree to come stand by my side. She curls a hand around my biceps and stares in challenge at her stepsister. “He feeds me, takes care of Smittens, and stays up all night to make sure that our home is beautifully decorated for Christmas. What’s your man doing? Oh, that’s right, at the first sign of conflict, he tucked his tail between his legs and ran off. I don’t like to play the comparison games because that’s not healthy but I think it’s obvious who is winning here and it’s not you.”
Trish’s jaw drops and truth be told, mine would be on the floor, too, if I didn’t clench my teeth together. Maybe when Faith said she wanted to fuck, what she really meant was she wanted to be loved. It’s only been a day and most people would say that you can’t fall in love like that, but I knew the moment I saw her that she was the one for me. For me, given that all I really know is lines of code, how trees grow, and that Bear is the best dog in the world, fucking her was the way to tell her that I loved her. But Faith needed to see it. I didn’t make the decorations, paint the bulbs, and chop down the tree to make her fall in love with me; I did it because I wanted her to be happy.
I take her hand and lift it to my mouth. “I love you, Faith.”
This time her jaw drops. “Y-you love me?”
“Yeah.” I turn off the burner, pull the fork from her hand, and nod toward Trish. “There’s keys to my truck hanging by the back door. If you’re out of here in the next five minutes, you can keep the truck and I’ll wire you a hundred grand before the end of the day.”
“You will n—“
I lay my mouth down on Faith’s and kiss away her protest. My bank account has so many zeros, I could’ve written Trish a ten figure check and not felt it. Besides, no amount is too high to get some alone time with Faith. I lift her in my arms and carry her down the hallway to the bedroom. I don’t know if Trish leaves. I don’t really care. What I do know is that I love Faith and I need to show her how much—not just with Christmas decorations and pancakes and food for her cat, but with my body.
I lay her down on the bed and peel away from her. “I don’t want to fuck you, Faith,” I say. “I want to love you.”
“Oh,” is her soft reply, followed swiftly by a punch in the arm. “Why didn’t you say that?”
I rub the spot where she made contact. “What was the punch for?”
“Why were you always asking me to—“ She makes a small motion with her fist.
I swallow a burst of laughter at her shyness. Barely twenty-four hours ago, I had my face buried between her legs and my tongue up her cunt but she can’t bring herself to say fucking and there’s something so endearing about that. I want to snatch her up into my arms and kiss her until she’s red from want and laughter. “You wanted revenge sex. I wanted to give that to you, but also because you’re so fucking hot that sometimes the only thing I can think about is tasting you, feeling you.”
She peeks up through her eyelashes. “No one’s felt that way about me before.”
“Better not or I’d have to kill him.” I tug at her shirt. She lets me pull it off.
“Is that how you feel about Ben?”
“Best not say his name in our bed.” Her bottoms come off next.
“Oh, what will happen if I do?” She teases as she helps me off with my clothes.
“Everyone needs to know that you’re mine so I’ll have to mark you here.” I draw a heart across her chest. “And here.” I move lower to where her panties shield her sex. “And even here.” I reach for her toes.
“What about here?” She taps her lips.
I cup her chin. “Especially there.”
I kiss her hard then, because it’s been a while since I’ve had my mouth on her. I reach down and stroke her pussy through her underwear. She’s wet and ready against my fingers. I slide underneath the elastic and press inside. The gasp that escapes her fires inside of my body. My dick hangs heavy between my legs.
Foreplay, I tell myself. I need to do some foreplay but my cock aches and the need to take her, claim her as my own is overwhelming. I break from her mouth, slide my lips across her jaw. “I have to take you now.”
It’s not a demand but a plea. Her lips curve up as she nods. “Hold on to me.” I take my weighty cock in my hands and press it against her wet, hot core. She’s tight—so tight that I think I’m not going to fit. Her fingernails dig into my skin. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her although I’m not positive it will be. She’s so tiny.
“Do you get smaller?”
“Nah.” If anything, I’m growing larger with each second that I spend with my tip surrounded by her heat. I take her mouth again, kissing her in reassurance, in promise, in love. She meets me with the same passion and I slide in a little farther and then a bit more until I’m fully seated. My muscles are aching from the effort to hold back. Sweat has formed on my chest and forehead. Her nails have created divots in my skin.
I’ve never felt better. I could move a mountain right now.
I start to move, dragging my cock along her soft, sensitive tissues. She arches, desperate for the contact.
Breaking free from my mouth, she pants, “Don’t leave me.”
I stare into her eyes. “Never.” And then I slam back into place.
A scream flies out of her. Heels dig into my back as she clutches me tight against her. I stroke her with my cock until her whole face transforms as the orgasm overtakes her. Her eyelids fall shut and the skin stretches across her cheekbones. A red flush covers her from head to toe and joy floods her expression. It’s the same joy that she has when she talks about her light-up sweater or Smittens or pancakes except it’s a hundred times brighter and more beautiful and I want to see it on her face every day until I die.
My own orgasm crashes over me and I pump my seed into her welcoming body. I’m going to make her pregnant. I’m going to give her a baby. I’m going to keep her forever.
Yes. Yes. “Yes,” I shout.
My ejaculation lasts forever, jetting milky seed into her tight vise until my whole body feels drained. I collapse, rolling to the side and pulling her on top of me so we don’t lose contact. Her hair is plastered to her face. I brush a few strands away.
“It fit,” I joke.
“It did.” She laughs, bright and loud. “I didn’t think it would, but, oh my goodness, it did.”
I stroke a hand down her back, marveling at how last Christmas, I was alone with only Bear for company but now I have Faith.
“What are you thinking?” Her lips move against my neck.
“That I’m damn lucky that you had to piss so bad you came down my lane.” It’s sort of scary to think how we almost missed each other. She could have gone to King’s and I would’ve never met her.
“We would have found each other,” she says as if she can read my mind. “I would’ve gone into town and saw you at the grocery store and followed you home.”
“Nah, I think that’s my story. One look at you and I was a goner.”
“I never believed in love at first sight,” she confesses. “How about you?”
“I never believed in love.”
“How come?
”
“Never had anyone give it to me. Never had anyone to give it to. I grew up in foster homes and as soon as I could take care of myself, I took off.” Computers and numbers and dollar bills kept me occupied. I never thought I’d need anything else—not until Faith came along.
“Well, I’m here now so you better believe in it.”
I angle my head so she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “There’s nothing I believe in more than you, Faith.”
Epilogue
Conn
“How big of a tree do you want me to get?” I ask my wife, who is seated on the sofa in front of the television. Bear is curled up on her feet while Smittens has taken up residence on the back of the couch. Smittens has been in a mood for the last couple of months since her favorite place to rest--Faith’s lap--has been occupied.
Faith rubs a hand over her stomach. “I don’t know. Maybe just a small one? I’m not feeling very Christmassy this year.”
I stop frosting the snowmen cookies and stare at my babe in dismay. Did she just say she wasn’t feeling the holiday spirit? My Faith? She’s the kind that drags out the ornaments in October. The lights outlining the roof of the lodge were hung up before I ate all the Halloween candy. Storage boxes full of ornaments and tinsel and lights are scattered about the living room.
“It’s just that it’s a lot of work and I don’t know if I feel up to it.” She casts a guilty look in my direction. “Is that terrible?”
“Nah.” Worrying, but not terrible. I lay the tube of frosting down and walk across the room to join her. “You okay otherwise?”
