Travis - A Scrooged Christmas

by Tracie Douglas

  “He hates Christmas?” Parker asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “What kind of person hates Christmas?”

  “That’s what I said,” I exclaim, repeating myself. It’s like the man can read my mind. “But I think he hates me more.”

  “He doesn’t hate you,” Parker assures me, but he doesn’t know the nasty, vile tricks I’ve pulled on my neighbor.

  “No, I’m pretty sure he hates me. And I deserve it, too.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Have you noticed how every house on the block is decorated?”

  “Yes,” he drawls, tilting his head to study me. “I take it you had something to do with that?”

  “You could say that,” I admit and bring the glass of wine to my lips. “You could also say I choreographed a light show to music, and blared music at his bedroom window. I also rallied the neighbors to bring him plates of cookies. Daily.”

  “Oh, Olive, you rotten bitch,” Parker teases and falls into a fit of laughter. I tell him all about the shenanigans, nearly pissing myself a few times in the process.

  I forgot how easy things are with Parker, and find myself grateful to have him here. It’s like having my best friend by my side again.

  “How are you doing, Parker? Have you spoken with Carter since we left?” I ask, steering us away from the comedy of my life because my bladder simply can’t handle any more laughing fits.

  “Yes, but I don’t think anything is going to come of it,” he tells me, staring into the bottom of his empty wine glass. I lean forward, pluck the bottle from the table, and fill his glass.

  “Why not?”

  “He’s still pretty angry with me. Apparently, I blamed him for you finding out about us, and well, about me.”

  “Parker, why would you do that?” I ask, without asking if he’d done it. He did it. Parker freaks out and says things he doesn’t mean when things get heated or stressful. At the time, I can imagine him freaking out and worrying he would lose his family, but most importantly, his daughter.

  “I don’t know. I was angry he didn’t lock the door, and I might have said a few things in the heat of the moment. But it isn’t his fault, and I don’t blame him. It was all on me,” he admits and gulps down half the contents in his glass. “I should have told you all those years ago, but then we wouldn’t have had the life we did and Hannah—”

  “Wouldn’t be here,” I finish for him. He’s right. If he had been honest about who he was, we wouldn’t have any part of the life we’ve shared all these years. “Are you in love with him, Parker? Like the kind of love you should have with someone you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

  “Yes, but what’s done is done.”

  “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to let love slip right through your fingers? Fight for him, damn it. Fight for your man and the love you two share.”

  He quiets, and I see him thinking about my words.

  “I guess I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?”

  “Me?”

  “Your neighbor,” he says matter-of-factly. “You like him.”

  “Shut your mouth.” I nearly drop my glass when the words leave his mouth.

  “Why not? I’ve seen him. That man is sex on a stick, and you’ve got it bad.”

  “I do not,” I argue, feeling the flush of all the wine hit my cheeks. Sure, Liv, blame the wine. “First of all, how weird is it that you’re checking out my neighbor?” I laugh but then I sober, trying to sound more serious with my next breath. “Secondly, I don’t like him. He’s an asshole. Sure, he’s a sexy-as-fuck asshole, but who wants that in their bed?”

  “I could name a few people who’d want that, and for reasons you’d be shocked over.”

  “Parker—”

  “Imagine what sex with him would be like. Sweaty, intense, and—”

  “Are you being serious right now?”

  “Tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he challenges, but this is Parker, and I’ve never kept anything from him.

  “Whether or not I have is irrelevant. It isn’t going to happen. I told you he hates me.”

  “You should go talk to him.”

  “Are you crazy? Did you not hear what I said?”

  “Pish posh, you should do it. Walk your sweet ass over to his place and make nice, or better yet, make sweaty and dirty all over his house. Come back in the morning, and I’ll make pancakes for breakfast.”

  “You are too much,” I declare, hanging my head in disbelief. How can he think Travis is attracted to me in that way? He’s never even been around the man.

  “Fine, if you don’t want to sleep with him, then don’t, but you should still go over there and make nice.” He’s right, I know, but after everything I’ve put the man through, I doubt crossing the property line is a clever idea.

  Crazy shit happens when someone crosses it.

  Travis

  I drop the basket of wood by the back door, kicking my boots against the wall to shake off the excess snow. The sound of someone approaching from behind causes me to turn.

  Our eyes connect instantly.

  “Liv, what’s wrong?” I ask breathlessly, taken aback by her presence. We haven’t spoken to one another since the night I confronted her about the music.

  “Nothing,” she replies, tucking her sweater tighter around her lush body. It accentuates the natural curves of her body even more, causing my cock to pay attention. She shivers and steps closer. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure,” I murmur, opening the back door. Confused, I turn and walk into my kitchen, shaking off the cold, trying to read her but failing at it. She follows behind, and I see her look around the room, taking in the dark masculine colors surrounding us. “But won’t your husband wonder where you are?”

  “He’s my ex-husband, and no he won’t.” She stops at the kitchen island. Her eyes settle on me.

  “You sure? You two looked pretty cozy under that blanket a few minutes ago,” I smart off, feeling a sting of jealousy. It didn’t look like they were exes from my vantage point.

  “Oh, my god, were you spying on me?” she asks. Her eyes go wide, and I feel territorial about her and what she was doing with her ex.

  Shit.

  “What? No. I was filling my wood rack and happened to see out of the corner of my eye.” I cross my arms, knowing full well I look like a creeper. Sadly, I wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but between the blanket and the wine, I had an idea. By her reaction, however, it seems like I misread it entirely.

  “You were spying on me,” she exclaims.

  “I told you—”

  “Parker was right,” she says aloud to herself and shakes her head. “He’s the one who said I should come and make nice, but I really didn’t expect this.”

  “Wait, please don’t tell me you’re one of those weird swinger couples? ‘Cause I got to tell you I’m not into that scene—”

  “Would you shut up for two minutes, so I can explain?” she cuts me off, covering my mouth with her hand. The scent of coconuts fills my nose, and it hits me straight in the cock. Coconut and snow. “Parker is gay.”

  “Still not going to change my—” I mumble underneath her hand, my body warming unseasonably to her touch and her tropical scent.

  “Damn, you really do have an ego,” she groans and drops her hand. “You’ve got to start processing the words through that thick skull of yours first before you open your mouth.”

  I shrug, and Liv groans. It’s a sound I can grow used to, especially if I’m the one making her do it. What is with this woman? She can rile me up, turn me on, and irritate me all in one sentence. I’ve never been challenged the way she does me.

  “Like I said, me being here is his idea, and not because of any of those reasons. But because of all the shit going on between the two of us.” I cross my arms and lean a hip against the counter. “We’re neighbors,
Travis, whether we like it or not. I don’t want to spend the next ten years feuding with you.”

  “Believe it or not, I don’t want that either,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand, while the other rests beside me on the counter. “What do you suggest?”

  “A permanent truce of some kind.” She unwinds her arms and places her hands flat onto the island countertop in front of her. I get an amazing view of her cleavage in the process. My thoughts swirl, mainly thinking about what my cock would look like sliding in between the soft globes. “I think we can both agree things got out of hand.”

  “We both can, although I still don’t understand what I did to earn the punishment.” I sober, moving my eyes away from her tits.

  “Are you serious?” Her mouth drops open.

  “I’m serious.”

  “You hurt my daughter. She cried herself to sleep,” she explains, almost sounding shrill.

  “Fuck, Liv, I didn’t do that intentionally. I had a lot to drink and was reeling over the run-in with you. I’ve wanted to apologize to her ever since, but I didn’t think you’d let me near her long enough to do it.”

  “You were drinking because of me?”

  “I didn’t say that.” I shake my head, unsure of how I feel about where this conversation is going.

  “Not out right,” she fires back, and with those words I’m done fighting. She wants me to tell her I was drinking because of her. Because she makes me so crazy I can’t think of anything else but bending her over and fucking her into next week.

  Tell her, then, my mind urges me.

  “Fuck, woman, I’m done beating around the bush with you.” I exhale, but it comes out like a growl. “I’m attracted to you, and I shouldn’t be. That’s why I was drinking. I was trying to forget the way my cock jumps to attention whenever you start throwing your sass my way.”

  “Wait, what?” she whispers, taken aback. My confession is clearly not something she expected. “But you hate me.”

  “No, I don’t hate you.” I lower my voice and push off my spot next her to, and move closer, with no intention of turning back. “But I do want to fuck you senseless.”

  Liv

  I gasp as his confession washes over me, filling my body with warmth and need. Every cell in my body becomes alert to him, and my legs clench together as my core throbs painfully in between my legs.

  “Travis,” I whimper, feeling the flush of desire race through me and settle in my cheeks. I want to reach for him and wrap my body around him, but I’ve never been the kind of woman to make the first move.

  “Olivia,” he responds, settling back on his heels. His chocolate eyes have turned liquid, and I watch as he flexes his hands into a fist. He’s only ever called me Liv, but hearing my full name on his lips does something to me I can’t explain.

  We move together, closing the space between us faster than either one of us can blink. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I meet his lips with my own, desperate to taste him. Sparks fly, jolting me all the way down to my center.

  He tastes divine, like pure magic, wrapped up with the scent of sandalwood and spearmint. It’s everything I dreamt it would be, but more.

  His arms close around me, pulling me tightly against him, and I feel his need nestled against my belly. A surge of wetness coats my thighs, and my clit thrums in beat with my quickening heart.

  The heat of his body surrounds me, creating an impenetrable cocoon around us. A nuclear bomb going off wouldn’t be enough to pull me away from him.

  My hands weave their way into his dark hair, tugging lightly. He groans, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Our tongues touch and tangle and explore. Building the need to a whole new level, but as it bubbles to the surface, I feel him tense against me.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, breaking the most amazing kiss of my existence. I mewl in protest, but he pushes back a little. When I open my eyes, they connect with his and I see everything he’s been holding back buried in their depths.

  “It seems we’ve both been lying to ourselves about what’s going on here,” he murmurs, and I brush through his hair with my fingers.

  Sweet heaven, this man is gorgeous.

  I feel a rush of giddiness when I think of lying beneath this man, our bare skin sticking to one another, as he plunges in and out of me, pushing us both to the brink.

  I nod, waiting for him to kiss me again. His lips roam along my neck, and his hands move along my body, pulling at my clothing. I repeat his actions, pulling and tugging until we’re both standing in the middle of his kitchen with little left to the imagination.

  The man is a fucking Adonis. Taut and toned nearly everywhere on his body. There isn’t an inch I don’t want to run my hands or tongue across. A light dusting of hair covers his bare chest, funneling down his defined abs to a happy trail that disappears beneath the band of his boxer briefs. All of it leading to a very obvious erection pointed in my direction.

  Fuck, he’s huge!

  The sheer size of him is hard to hide beneath the jersey material of his briefs. My eyes are so wide, they feel like they might pop out of my head, but I can’t stop staring. My mouth waters, craving him unlike any man before him, and I tingle from head to toe. He looks down at me with a cocky smirk, telling me he knows how blessed he is.

  Suddenly, I’m very aware of my own body and its imperfections. I’m not the smallest woman in the world. My breasts are too large, my belly isn’t flat, and my hips are wider than I’d like them to be, but the look in his eyes sends a wave of confidence through me, warming me against the cold air nipping at my skin.

  He lifts a finger and runs it along the top of my bra, teasing the sensitive skin with his warmth before slipping underneath the material, brushing against the taut bud. His other hand grabs me at my hip, pulling me hard against him.

  “Gorgeous,” he growls, closing the distance between us and planting his lips on mine again, this time more demanding. My lips move desperately against his, and I push back my insecurities to concentrate on him.

  He thrusts his hips forward against me, promising what both our bodies yearn for. His hand at my back unhooks my bra, and I let it fall to the ground, moaning as his large hands cup my breasts. His clever fingers find my nipples, flicking and kneading the flesh.

  When his mouth leaves mine to clamp down onto my nipple, I nearly come on the spot. The heat of his mouth, brush of his teeth, and suction leave me in a haze of lust. The world around us is foggy, everything but him. All I hear are moans and breathing, his or mine, I’m not sure, but with each second that passes I find myself clinging to him for strength.

  A moment later, he releases my nipple with a pop and cups my ass to lift me. I wrap my legs around his middle and wind my arms around his neck. My sensitive nipples brush against his chest, the sprigs of hair only intensifying each bud’s sensitivity. His mouth on my neck feels like heaven.

  I’m too far gone into the sensations to worry about how heavy I must feel to him.

  It isn’t until he releases me and tosses me onto my back that I realize we aren’t in his kitchen anymore. I look around the room and recognize the pull-up bar hanging in the doorway of his closet. His bedroom. I’m lying in the middle of a large bed, on the softest sheets I’ve ever felt, and feel him grab my ankle to drag me to the edge.

  Our eyes meet, and I shiver when I see his usually chocolate-colored eyes have turned golden. They remind me of a lion on the prowl, and he looks at me like I’m his prey, ready to make me his next meal.

  I shiver, loving the way I feel nearly splayed out for him. I feel powerful, and it’s intoxicating.

  “Move down to the edge of the bed,” he commands, and for the first time in years, I don’t think about it. I just do. Following orders, I scoot down further and shut my brain off. He kneels on the floor in front of me, and places a hand on each knee, slowly pulling them apart until he sees his target.

  My soaking-wet cotton boy shorts. They hide the most intimate part of me, but I’ve never felt m
ore exposed.

  “Shit, baby girl, is that for me?” Travis growls, inhaling the scent of my sex deep into his lungs. His fingers caress down the length of my thighs, and my breath catches in my throat when they stop right before where I want them most.

  “Trav,” I say breathlessly, catching his eyes. He searches my face for hesitation, but finds none. I reach for him, but he doesn’t move from his spot in front of me. “Kiss me.”

  “Patience,” he tells me before hooking his thumbs into my panties, tugging them down, and I lift my hips for him to maneuver better. “Open your legs, baby girl. Show me that pretty, pink pussy.”

  Travis

  She opens her legs and bites down on her lower lip, like she did the day in the shop. An animalistic growl rumbles deep in my chest, and I can’t wait any longer. I’ve wondered and waited too long. The anticipation is almost too much.

  Her sweet body is more than I could ever imagine. Lush and curvy in all the right places, driving me mad with desire. Her compliance and confidence in her skin has my cock throbbing harder than I’ve ever experienced. Never in my thirty-two years have I been this affected by a woman.

  Dipping my head, I inhale her sweet scent one more time before running the tip of a finger down her wet slit. The way she’s responded to only a kiss has me reeling. I can’t wait to see what my mouth nibbling on her bundle of nerves does.

  Opening her folds, I gaze down at the beauty of her, wanting to memorize every moment in case it’s the only time.

  My tongue darts out, tasting her sweet nectar, which causes my mouth to water and my body to crave more. She lets out a gentle moan and shifts, opening her legs wider and lifting her hips to me.

  My greedy girl.

  I bury my face in her folds, lapping at her center, sucking her bud into my mouth. I press one finger inside, then two, stroking the walls of her pussy, while my mouth continues its assault on her, pushing her closer.