The way Austin just came out of nowhere reminded me of a scene in Rambo: First Blood Part II, where Sylvester Stallone, as Rambo, is hiding in the mud and when the Soviet soldier gets close he wraps him up from behind exactly as Austin has done.
I can thank my dad for that memory, as he loved to watch those kinds of movies, and the fact that I once read that before he was a bestselling author, Stephen King used the original Rambo book, First Blood, as one of his two texts when he taught creative writing at the University of Maine. The other was James M. Cain's Double Indemnity.
And if Austin squeezes much harder, this guy’s benefactors are about to get a double indemnity payment on an unusual death clause.
Just as his face goes beet red, Austin release his grip.
“Apologize to her!” Austin demands.
“I’m sorry,” he coughs, but it sure sounds like he means it.
Austin spins him around, locking his hands on his upper arms and pulling him in so close his forehead is practically touching the other guy’s.
“Now apologize to me you piece of shit,” he says softly, but I still pick it up.
“I’m sorry,” he says with conviction.
“I won’t ever give you a chance to be sorry again,” he says. “And that goes for trying to talk to anyone else’s woman but your own, if some unlucky lady is unfortunate enough to fall for a clown like you. You understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, now don’t let me see you again. Not tonight. Not ever. And if you see her you better hide because if I hear she even thinks she saw you I’ll come looking for you. You got that…Chad?” he says looking at his Hello: My Name is nametag.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, now get out of my face,” he says releasing his grip.
Chad stumbles backward and runs off. I kind of thought Austin was going to throw him into the trees, but I see how there was no point in kicking him when he was down, and he certainly learned his lesson.
And I learned something about myself.
I had absolutely no clue that violence could be such a turn on, a big turn on.
“I’m sorry about the way that boy treated you. It won’t happen again,” Austin says, as he wraps me up in a hug for the very first time.
“I know,” I say, burying my head into his chest as I feel his cock harden against my stomach…and my upper thigh. Oh my god, how hung is he?
“Any guesses where I was?” he asks.
“Maybe over there,” I say dragging my head across his thick chest, feeling his rock hard pecs through his clothes against my cheek. When I get to the end of his chest, which takes a while considering he does have a big, barrel chest, I motion a couple times quickly towards the area I guessed.
“You were right,” he says. “You would have found me.”
I already did. He’s been in my thoughts and my heart longer than he knows.
CHAPTER 8
Austin
“It only takes about fifteen minutes to make and about an hour and fifteen minutes to cook. It’ll be easy,” she says. “As soon as I get it in the oven I’ll be in to help decorate.”
Is there anything this woman can’t do?
She’s immediately turned my man cave into a home. My place is great, but it barely looks like it’s inhabited by a human. I’m never here more than just to catch some zzz’s, so I don’t really put much time into it.
I did spend the money though and got a great place that’s very comfortable. To me that was all that mattered at the time, but how quickly times are changing.
It hadn’t even occurred to me that once we got the tree in the Range Rover that we’d need to get lights and other ornaments.
I was almost to my place when she kind of curiously asked if I was just gonna take it home without any decorations.
The tree was an afterthought. The most important thing I was taking home was her, and if she wanted some decorations she could dress up as Mrs. Claus and I’d be her Santa, all year long.
I work on getting the tree in the base that holds it in place while she whips up a gingerbread cake. We thought of buying a gingerbread cake at the store, but she said she could make a better one and I definitely believe her.
As far as I’m concerned she can do everything better, whether it’s making my home a warm place that I actually look forward to coming home to, to being a tough young woman who doesn’t even complain about the raspberry she’s got on her backside right now, or at least I’d put money on her having one.
But I’m not a gambling man, nor will that change anytime soon. They say the only things that are for certain are death and taxes, but I say there’s something else.
You can bet the house on her becoming mine, because I’m all in.
I just need to be patient, although that’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
Saving lives at the hospital? Piece of cake.
Not going completely caveman on her right now and telling her everything I want to do to her from the bedroom to the alter to all the kids I’m going put in her belly? Harder than free-solo climbing the three thousand foot granite face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.
And my dick is just as hard as granite right now too, and has been since I picked her up today.
I open up the YouTube app on my phone and after a few minutes of fiddling with Internet technology, which is way more complicated to me than the human body, I manage to put together a playlist of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Frank Sinatra, All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey, Winter Wonderland and Let it Snow by Dean Martin, Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt and Silent Night. From there YouTube should be able to use its artificial intelligence and pick out more songs.
Not more than a few seconds after I hit the play button, I turn to see her standing in the doorway looking hot as hell as she stirs some ingredients in a mixing bowl with some whisking thing, two items we also had to pick up since all I have here are plates, bowls, silverware and one pot for boiling water and eggs.
“This is so perfect, Austin, but I have to ask…are you gonna make me feel like Marilyn Monroe and play Santa Baby?”
“It’s on tap, about the fifth song I think. Had to build up to it first.”
She gives me a wink. “You’re amazing,” she says and then turns to go back into the kitchen, but very obviously wiggles her butt from side to side before she takes a step.
I bite down on my fist just as she turns around and catches me and flashes me a smile.
I get the decorations all laid out on the couch having no idea what I should put where and how to make this look right.
There is one thing I know though. We may have bought an angel to put on top, but the real angel is her…and she belongs on the top of everything everyday of the year because she’s my angel, now and soon to be forever.
CHAPTER 9
Madison
I get the gingerbread in the oven, the whole time thinking of that look of hunger I caught on Austin’s face when I just joking around and shook my booty at him.
There was no joking around in his expression. It was primal, needy, and he had to literally bite down on his hand in absentia of my behind.
We spend the next hour putting decorations up on the tree. My favorites are the ones when he lifts me up so I can put them in place. The way his hands just slide under my armpits and lift me like I’m light as air makes me feel more feminine and womanly than I ever have.
Maybe it’s the holiday spirit or all the fun we’re having together, but I can’t stop thinking of another way to feel even more complete as a woman.
Pregnant with his child.
It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it, but it’s the first time I’ve felt like it’s a real possibility.
When the thought entered my mind before I usually tried to push it away thinking that being preggo with my first born made me a crazy woman, considering we weren’t even dating, he barely knew me, he probably just thought of me as a kid,
and worse I was his best friend’s daughter.
What a difference a little late blooming into womanhood can make.
We get the tree all set up, with only the angel to put on the top.
“This is definitely your job, but just so you know she’ll never compare to you,” he says, handing me the angel as we stand very close.
“Awww,” I say.
Suddenly he squats down and picks me up, twisting me in the air so I land right on top of his shoulders. I feel like a kid again as I lean in and put the angel in its place, knowing I’ve found my place in this world too…here, with him.
He starts walking around the room.
“Where are we going?” I ask, laughing.
“Has anyone seen Madison? I just can’t seem to find her.”
“Up here!” I say. The game is super childish and corny, but I can imagine us doing the same with our kids one day. Damn, this is too good to be true.
“Madison? Where are you?” he says walking towards a door that separates two rooms.
“Oh no, we’re gonna crash!” I say bringing my hands to my cheeks playfully, just before he pretends like we’re walking down stairs, lowering down each time until he arrives at the couch, which he falls into and I land on the comfy pillow with a laugh as I fall from his shoulders.
“That was fun. We need to do that again next year,” I say.
“Every year,” he says moving closer to me.
I feel my breath catch.
“But there’s one decoration left to hang,” he says. “Come with me.”
We’re quickly off the couch and he goes into a closet and grabs some fishing wire.
“A stringer of fish? I don’t think that’s going to smell so good?”
“No need to fish when you’ve already got the ultimate keeper in your net, and you’ve got her home safe.” he says as his eyes lock on mine.
Grabbing some small nails and a hammer he hammers them in on two separate walls and wraps the fishing wire around them. The man is so tall he doesn’t even need a ladder to reach. Unreal. I can’t even get into the second row of cabinets in the cupboard without a step stool.
“Over here,” he says, motioning me over with a come hither motion from his first two fingers. The thought of those two big digits doing the same thing inside me has me as wet as the Pacific Ocean as I move towards him.
Reaching around into his back pocket he removes some mistletoe that he must have grabbed when he was getting his tools.
“Did you get that at the store just now?”
“I rang it up real quick in the express aisle while you were getting the lights and decorations. Not getting the bag probably kept an entire colony of baby dolphins from going extinct.”
I laugh. “So you’re saving the environment, dolphins, and lives by day…but who are you saving that mistletoe for?”
Just as he hooks it in place with one hand his other hand grabs me by the belt hook and yanks me into his body.
His hand slides around my back as he pulls me in tight, his other hand lowering as he places it just inches from my face as if he’s admiring me like I’m a porcelain doll that he wants to be so careful with when he finally goes to touch me.
But I don’t need careful. I need what that throbbing erection he’s been trying to conceal all day wants.
I need him unleashed, feral, and just as possessive as he was with me at the Christmas tree farm, because I know that’s exactly how he feels about me.
A growl escapes his lips as his face moves closer.
“We shouldn't be doing this,” he says.
“I know,” I say softly.
“It’s not right.”
“It’s more than right. It’s perfect,” I say, just before the tip of his first finger finds my cheek.
“They’re so high, so round, so perfect, just like everything about you,” he says, his finger tracing a circle around my cheek. “How did anything so perfect ever find its way onto this earth, and how did I get to be the luckiest man in the world to have it all for myself,” he says, his nostrils flaring, his gaze intensifying even more.
I can hear his breathing as I literally see the beast inside him coming out as he continues leaning in closer still.
My lips part and the pressure in my chest from my near exploding heartbeat has my whole body shaking in both lust and slight fear of this wild man before me.
“I can’t resist you, not now, not ever,” he says.
“I don’t want you to ever try,” I say.
I feel his cock twitch through his clothes and mine, as it moves against my stomach just before he growls even deeper and he closes the last of the distance between us, his lips crashing down on mine.
CHAPTER 10
Austin
I could come just from the taste of her sweet lips and the feeling of her hair in my hand, as my fingers slide from her cheek to her scalp.
Her golden blonde locks, smooth as silk in my grasp. It takes all the willpower I have in my body not to knife my hand in her hair, spin her around and take her right here and now like the dog that I am.
Damn, I want to breed her like the animal I’ve become, the animal she’s turned me into.
Maybe it’s always been there, just needing the one woman in the universe who could bring it out of me. I don’t know and I don’t care. All I know is she’s mine now and I care about her and her happiness more than anything.
My tongue slides into her mouth and I taste her deeper, as my hand on her waist slides up her back, pressing her chest into me tighter.
I can feel those firm breasts of hers and her pebbled nipples through her top and mine.
Fuck, I want to get her out of these clothes and lay my eyes on her perfect paradise of a body, her body which will soon become my playground for hours and hours and hours on end, every day of the rest of our lives.
She moans slightly and it only causes me to lose control even more. I feel my muscles flexing uncontrollably, my cock demanding to be freed and shoved deep inside her channel where it belongs.
Fuck the bastard wants to come in her so deep, so hard, so long that he puts twins, triplets, quadruplets, hell why not ten babies at once inside her.
Every ounce of me wants a big family with her and I want it now.
We need kids to join us in this holiday stuff, this kind of celebration that I never thought I would have as an adult with a family of my own.
Now I wonder how I ever missed out on it.
The answer is easy.
Because being without her is to be without any of this. None of this is worth a single cent if she’s not here by my side to share it with.
And this time next year we’re going to be celebrating Christmas with our first born, that’s one hundred percent guaranteed.
I’ll come in that sweet pussy of hers day and night until it takes, although I know our bodies are meant for each other and she’s going to milk the seed we need to get pregnant on the first try.
Yeah, we’re getting pregnant, not just her, because when we do something we do it one hundred percent together.
What’s hers is mine and what’s mine is hers, and never anyone else’s.
I don’t share anything when it comes to her…not now and not ever.
“You taste so damn good,” I say.
“So do you,” she says as our faces fuck each other’s, and damn do I want the real thing.
“You smell like crackling wood on a Christmas Eve fireplace as we lay on a bearskin rug all night long only to wake to Christmas morning,” she says.
Suddenly my lips pull from hers.
“What happened?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
“The gingerbread cake,” I say taking off for the kitchen, smelling the smoke billowing from the oven.
I grab the fire extinguisher and open the door, spraying the damn thing down before there’s any chance it could harm my woman.
I don’t care if the whole place goes up in flames, as long as I get her out of here w
ithout a scratch it’s a complete success.
Possessive Doctor's Christmas: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Know What He Wants Book 89) Page 4
