Cowboy Mistletoe

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Cowboy Mistletoe Page 8

by Em Petrova


  “I didn’t know Paradise Valley had this many people living here.” The crush of people in the kitchen made it hard for them to sneak through to the punchbowl, but Case confidently used his big shoulders to clear the way.

  “Many come from town. Church folks and friends of friends who’ve heard the Daltons throw the best Christmas party. Now, I hope you like eggnog.”

  She stared at the punchbowl, a cut-glass throwback filled with creamy liquid and flecked with spices. “A little bit, yes. I’ve never had anything but the kind from a jug in the store, though.”

  He lifted a glass and put it into her hand. Then he bent and fumbled under the green tablecloth, coming out with a bottle of rum. He gave her a mischievous grin before upending the bottle into the bowl.

  “Case!” She elbowed him, but he didn’t stop pouring until most of the bottle was empty.

  “You didn’t tell on Hank Jr.—you won’t tell on me.”

  “Oh Lord, you saw that?”

  He threw her a grin and grabbed the big ladle and mixed the eggnog, now heavily spiked with rum.

  “Your aunt’s going to know it was you.”

  “Nah, she’s got five sons. Could be any of them.”

  “You’re going on the naughty list this year.”

  He pivoted to stare deep into her eyes. “I sure hope so, as long as your name’s under mine. You’re an accomplice now, Annabelle.” He ladled the drink into the cup she held and then some into his own.

  Not bothering to stow away the rum bottle again, he led her away from the table. They stood together, holding their cups.

  “Why do I feel like we’re playing a college drinking game?”

  “Never been to college, but we are. On three, we drink. Ready?” His eyes danced over the rim of his red cup.

  She nodded, her smile hidden by her own cup. “One, two, three.”

  They drank. The sweet, spicy notes of the drink flooded her tongue and she moaned as the stronger rum hit the back of her throat. She wasn’t a drinker, hadn’t even enjoyed it during those college drinking games. But sharing the moment with Case made her appreciate the flavors more.

  After finishing the cup, she also realized she was one hell of a lightweight. The alcohol was already hitting her system. Case took the cup from her and came back with another.

  This time he drew her to stand in a doorway, and when she finished her second cup of rum with a hint of eggnog, she found herself standing under the mistletoe.

  Case lowered his cup, eyes burning into her. She had a pleasant buzz going in her skull and didn’t care much about who was around them at that moment.

  She threw her free arm around his neck, went on tiptoe and kissed him. Right in front of the Daltons and all of Paradise Valley.

  He hitched her against him one-handedly, flattening his palm on her spine to draw their hips together until they bumped. Need raced through her and she wiggled closer.

  A gagging noise sounded, and she broke free of the kiss to see one of the little kids with his mouth open and a finger jabbed between his teeth, acting as though he was going to puke from seeing grownups kiss.

  Case’s chest rumbled with an amused laugh and he caught Annabelle’s hand and drew her out of the doorway. They kept on going through the crowd to the front door and into the cold night.

  People were congregated on the porch as well, two old guys shooting the breeze. They only glanced at her and Case when they walked down the steps and crossed the yard. At his truck, Case took the eggnog she was still holding and set both their cups on the hood of the truck parked next to them.

  “Get in. I want to show you something.”

  She eyed him. “You’re capable of driving after that eggnog?”

  He chuckled. “Sweetheart, it takes a lot more than two small cups of eggnog to knock a man of my size on his ass. Want to see me walk a straight line?”

  While her own head was slightly foggy from alcohol consumption, she believed him. She got into the truck and he closed the passenger’s door behind her.

  Inside, he said, “No need for your seatbelt. We’re just driving out across the field a ways.”

  The complete silence of the truck was startling in juxtaposition to the noise inside the house. Quiet swelled in her ears, almost ringing.

  The moonlight guided their path and Case didn’t even bother to turn on his headlights. As they rolled across the silver-blue field, she shivered but not from cold.

  From anticipation.

  She wasn’t so buzzed that she didn’t know what she was doing—and she wanted to give herself to Case Dalton. Tonight, under the stars of the big Texas sky.

  When he stopped and cut the engine, his eyes glittered black in the darkness. “Sweetheart, I can’t stop thinking about what we did last night.”

  “Me either,” she said, breathless.

  His throat worked as he swallowed. Then he reached for the door handle and got out. She watched him circle the front of the truck to her door and when he opened it, she fell into his arms.

  He gathered her against his big, hard, warm body. In one move, he lowered his mouth to hers and lifted her.

  Carrying her to the bed of the truck, never releasing her mouth as he popped the tailgate. He set her on the edge and instead of her bare thighs meeting cold metal as she’d expected, she found herself seated on a thick quilt.

  “You planned this, Case Dalton.” Her tone didn’t come out as school-teachery as she’d planned. More of a compliment.

  He made a low humming noise and then tipped his head back to look at the sky. “What more beautiful of a setting to claim a beautiful woman?”

  Claim? The word stabbed her in all the right places, and she burned for more—more pleasure, more stolen moments. More sweet-talk.

  He rested his hands on her waist and dragged her back into the bed of the truck and a waiting pile of pillows. The comfort surprised her, but his big body pressing her down shocked her.

  A spasm between her thighs had her grabbing at him. Hauling him down, she took his mouth in a deep, tongue-swirling kiss that left them both moaning. This time nobody needed to stay quiet, and their combined sounds only fueled her need.

  She hooked her ankles around his back and tugged him down to nestle between her splayed thighs. When his hard bulge met the thin barrier of her panties, she rocked upward.

  “Hell, sweetheart, you keep that up and I can’t last.” He stared down at her, his mouth a twist of pleasure as he ground his erection into her pussy.

  “I hope you’ve got condoms hidden among these pillows.”

  He nodded, breathing rough. “I’m prepared. I just need to know one thing.”

  She cradled his jaw, searching his eyes and memorizing the shadows and moonlight playing along his handsome features. “What’s that?”

  “Are you sure you want this?”

  “It’s going to make it harder to leave, but yes. I don’t want to let the opportunity slip away.”

  He gave a jerky nod and kissed her again, this time pulling guttural moans from her. He palmed her breasts and managed to strip away her plaid shirt. She worked the buttons of his too, but she wasn’t so lucky. Whether it was the alcohol haze or first-time jitters, she couldn’t seem to bare his chest to her hands fast enough.

  He slipped his fingers into her hair, and she closed her eyes at the extreme tenderness the action brought out of her. Sex was always tangled up with emotions for her, but this… this was more.

  She choked back a sigh and concentrated harder on those buttons. When she had his shirt open, she pressed her hands against the warm steel of his chest. “You’re beautiful,” she grated out.

  His eyes closed on her words. When he opened them, he smiled. “You’re perfect.”

  In a flurry, they undressed each other. Seeing his body for the first time stunned the words right out of her mouth—he was freakin’ glorious. Chiseled abs that tapered down to a thatch of trim dark hair cradling a long, thick cock. She wet her lips, and he groaned.
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  “If you do that again—” he started.

  She did.

  A growl erupted from him. “C’mere, you little vixen.” He flipped into the quilts, settling her on top of him, straddling him.

  The initial touch of her wet, primed pussy against his erection made her toss her head back with bliss. She circled her hips, grinding on him.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Hell, you’re so gorgeous it’s going to break my heart.” He dug his fingers into her hips, holding her in place.

  In a heartbeat, she realized they were about to consummate something much bigger than attraction. This was no fairytale Christmas fling—it was a real relationship budding between them.

  And soon she’d walk away.

  She leaned over and kissed him, tasting passion and barely-harnessed control. With his fingers tormenting her nipples into hard peaks, she didn’t have much restraint either. She wanted to beg for one of those condoms.

  “I want you so bad,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “I want to go slow. Dammit, I can’t.”

  He flipped her again. For a second, she thought he might don a condom and take her in the next heartbeat. Instead, he dove between her thighs and sank his tongue into her slick heat.

  Shivers ran up and down her body and her inner thigh muscles quaked as he lapped her from bottom to top, circling her clit with precise flicks of his tongue that would have her screaming in seconds.

  She twisted his hair in her fist and one into the quilts at her side. Need stole all thought as he pleasured her. When he’d sink into her pussy again, she’d moan and he’d answer with a growl that vibrated clear to her soul.

  “Please, Case. Let me come.” She pushed her hips upward to meet his tongue.

  “There’s no “Silent Night” in this truck. Let me know you like it, sweetheart.”

  With each throaty noise she made, both of them were spurred on. She shook in his hold as he danced his tongue up and down her pussy. A spear of ecstasy ripped her breath away, and she gulped off a cry as waves of release pounded her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and let herself be carried away by the pleasure, but as soon as he lifted his head and ran his tongue over his lips, she was ready for more.

  She dragged him upward, loving the feel of his strength moving over her, ready to feel it moving inside her.

  Sure enough, he’d hidden condoms under the quilt. He tore one open and slid it into place with a few quick jerks of his wrist. When she stared at his thick erection aimed at her pussy, she couldn’t hold back another second.

  “Come to me, Case. I want this—I want you.”

  He didn’t hesitate. He braced himself over her, the swollen head pressing against her folds. Looking into her eyes, he joined them. Sinking to the root, buried in her. Stretching her so good.

  She let out a cry, and he bit into her lower lip lightly.

  “Don’t move a second. Oh hell, don’t move.” His gritty tone dragged her to the surface for air, and she stilled.

  The rum had worn off somewhere between that first kiss and his tongue magic, and now she couldn’t even lie to herself and say she’d drunk too much.

  She wanted Case—and everything that meant having him.

  The ranch, Texas. Heck, what did she have back in Illinois other than her classroom? Surely not the past two terrible Christmases with more promised to come. She was lonely, he was amazing. How many more reasons did she need?

  He tensed as if biting back his own release, and she watched the pleasure and struggle play over his face. Reaching up, she skimmed her fingers over his rough, angled jaw.

  “Don’t hold back with me,” she whispered.

  And he began to move.

  As he withdrew and then plunged into her again, she wrapped her arms and legs around his big body. Their mouths collided with a sweet passion that raised an ache inside her.

  Need spiraled out of control as he sank into her five times, ten. When he gave an animalistic growl, her body answered with a tightening—a deep flutter.

  In a blinding burst, she came and felt him follow. His muscles working over her as he drove them both to the finish.

  She didn’t know how long it took them to recover—time had no meaning out here. When he rolled off and flipped a quilt over both of them, she snuggled against his chest and stared up at the stars.

  His voice came to her, deep and soft. “We only have a few days left together. I want to make the most of them with you.”

  She curled against him and nodded. Then his lips found hers and she was lost all over again.

  Chapter Seven

  Case didn’t mind having a little beard stubble, but a full-out beard definitely wasn’t for him. He tugged at the white bushy beard hanging around his jaw, wishing he could rip it off. But for the kids, he hooked the elastic that kept slipping off his ear and gave his best, most boisterous, “Ho, ho, ho!”

  Avery clapped and Carter’s eyes grew as round as peppermint candies as he blinked up at him. He realized in his little mind, it didn’t matter that Case wasn’t yet wearing the Santa hat and had dark hair—he had a Santa beard and he was Santa.

  He picked Carter up and kissed his cheek. The toddler felt good in his arms—sweet. Yeah, he’d always known he wanted kids, especially coming from a mixed family the way he did. But lately he’d been thinking on it more.

  No doubt that had to do with Annabelle.

  Last night had blown his damn mind. All day he’d fumbled through his chores, thinking of nothing but her. And when he’d finally cornered her for some kisses, his brain had grown hazier.

  He was in freakin’ love with her.

  How? In such a short time, things like that didn’t happen.

  Yet he was old enough to know his mind—his heart. And this was definitely more than anything he’d experienced in the past with girls he’d dated.

  Carter took a fistful of white beard and tugged it down. The elastic slipped and Case’s jaw was revealed. Carter smacked a plump hand off his face and giggled.

  “Okay, you little turd. Run off and let the girls get you ready for your part in the play.” Carter was a donkey, according to Avery, but Case doubted the little boy would take off his cowboy hat to play the role.

  He set the kid on his feet and he galloped off.

  Avery looked Case up and down. “Your suit needs stuffed. Let me get some pillows.” She ran away with her bedraggled angel wings flapping on her back. A second later, she returned with two pillows—and Annabelle.

  The breath punched from him as he set eyes on her. Sweet lips still looking slightly swollen from all those kisses in the bed of the truck. She’d been wild in his arms. God, how was he ever going to let her go?

  “I hear Santa needs a fat belly. May I?” She held up a pillow and Avery bounced next to her, a fat pillow in her arms too.

  He pulled up his red T-shirt, borrowed from Hank, and Annabelle and Avery stuffed him.

  “You’re lopsided.” Annabelle giggled and Avery hooted with laughter.

  “Santa’s fat is crooked!”

  He looked down at one pillow shifted to the left and pushed it into place. “There. Better?”

  They both nodded. Then Annabelle put her hand on Avery’s head and said, “Why don’t you run and get into place while I fix Santa’s beard?”

  She flew away like a good little angel, leaving him alone with the woman of his dreams.

  Her eyes sparkled as she surveyed his appearance. “Yes, let me fix this one thing.” She pulled his beard down and kissed him square on the mouth. The softness, the sweetness… long after she withdrew and put the ticklish beard back into place, the feel of her lingered.

  “You’re going to make a great Santa. I think the kids are nearly ready.”

  All the adults had been sitting in the living room forever, waiting for Annabelle and her self-appointed sidekick Avery to organize the impromptu play that was a mashup of pagan Santa Claus and the Christian nativity.

  “Oh, I
hear baby Jesus crying again. We may have to substitute with a doll if the baby gets really worked up.” Annabelle pressed a kiss to his cheek and he couldn’t resist.

  He plopped down on the nearby chair and dragged her onto his knee. Her round ass on his lap invoked very naughty thoughts that would earn him a whole shovelful of coal.

  “What do you want, little girl?”

  “You’re such a pervert, Santa.”

  He walked his fingers up her inner thigh toward the treasure he wanted most for Christmas.

  She giggled and hopped off his lap. “We’ll save that for later. Get ready for my cue.”

  With a wicked grin, he shoved the red hat down on his head and waggled his brows. “Oh, I’ll be waiting.”

  He stood on the wings in the kitchen for a long time while the kids acted out the nativity, complete with some of the lines they delivered at the upcoming church performance on Christmas Eve. Avery flitted around in every scene, and Case mentally nicknamed her the dive-bombing angel.

  When Annabelle gave him a wink and nod, he laid a finger alongside his nose and rushed into the room.

  Kids squealed and the adults erupted with laughter. He grabbed his pillow stuffing and made a play of laughing in the jolliest way possible. Secretly, he was playing to Annabelle, wanting her to see all the different sides of him so she could realize she couldn’t walk away from him.

  The play fell apart after his entrance, and he just ended up with kid after kid on his lap, telling him what they wanted. When Avery, astute child that she was, asked him what he wanted, he looked up into Annabelle’s eyes and watched a pink glow cover her cheeks.

  After the play, the kids had milk and cookies and then were carted off to their homes for bed. Case stripped off his pillows and put them back on the sofa, and the hat and beard lay abandoned on the kitchen table.

  He turned to Annabelle, and his heart thrilled when she slid her arms around his neck and cuddled against him.

  “What do you want for Christmas, Annabelle?” His voice was gritty and he had to clear it.

  A shiver ran through her, and she smiled at him. “I want to make out with Santa Claus.”

 

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