“You feel so good,” Isaac whispers before he dips his head, his mouth on mine for a lush, tongue filled kiss. “Be patient with me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as I run little kisses along his jaw, the stubble there tickling my lips.
“If I move too fast, I’m gonna blow. It’s been a while. And you feel fucking amazing,” he admits.
Is he implying I could possibly make him lose complete control?
Wow. That’s a first.
“We have all night,” I whisper, rearing up to press my mouth to his. “I have three more condoms in my drawer.”
He smiles. “I like the way you think.”
There’s no more talking. He moves within my body, slowly at first, both of us seeming to test each other out until we find a rhythm. We shift against each other, the natural push and pull taking over, until he’s sliding in and out of my body at a steady pace. I lift my hips, curling my legs around his and keeping our torsos pressed together, and a groan escapes him when I work my body on his cock.
Oh. That feels so good. I love the slip and slide of him entering and retreating from my body. And he’s moving just fast enough that I can concentrate on the delicious drag of his erection within me. He’s in no hurry, and neither am I.
Oops, spoke too soon. He’s suddenly in a spectacular hurry, his body making quick work of it as he strains to get there. I realize I’m straining too. I’m close. And usually I’m never close. I don’t have orgasms via regular intercourse. I need other stimulation. Fingers. Lips and tongue. The infamous G-spot is nonexistent, if you ask me.
But somehow, every time he plunges deep, he nudges something inside that’s leaving me breathless. I arch into him, my head thrown back, my eyes closed tight as I concentrate on that feeling. I chase after it, my chest growing tighter, a tingling starting in my lower body. I’m panting. Moaning. Oh God, I’m loud. Louder than I’ve ever been. He’s pushing me closer and closer to that edge and I hang there for one long, blissful moment. Thoughtless. Weightless. Breathless.
Right before I fall off the cliff, the shudders sweeping over me, carrying me away. He steadily pumps inside of me, never pausing while the orgasm races through me, and I swear it draws it out even longer, until I’m a shaking, whimpering mess.
Isaac kisses me, his mouth gentle, his words hot as he whispers, “So fucking beautiful when you come.”
I kiss him hungrily, tremors still racking my body as I cling to him. He increases his pace, his hips pumping as he drives his cock inside of me. I lose myself to the sensation of his rhythmic thrusts, the way he fills me, how good it is between us already.
So good.
My body lights up, responding to his, and I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his hair as I pull him in close to kiss him. It’s a sloppy kiss. Sexy. He moans into my mouth, his control slipping and that fills me with heady delight. Such a wondrous thing, to watch a man fall apart because of you. I had forgotten how amazing it is.
How empowering.
He breaks the kiss first, his pace increasing to the point that our skin slaps together, his grunts keeping time with his every push inside my body. I crack my eyes open, watching him in complete fascination as I reach up and brush the hair away from his forehead.
Isaac doesn’t even notice. He’s too intent, chasing after his orgasm, until finally, he’s the one who’s coming, his groans loud as he holds himself still above me. His eyes are squeezed closed, the muscles in his neck standing out in sharp relief. I keep watching as the orgasm takes over him, a groan sounding low in his throat as he thrusts once. Twice. One last time before he collapses on top of me.
He’s heavy, but I don’t mind. It feels good, being trapped beneath his muscular, damp with sweat body. I trace my fingers along his shoulders, pressing my mouth to his forehead as he rests his head on my chest, our bodies still connected. His heart races so fast, almost as fast as mine, and I don’t say anything. I just let him lie there and catch his breath and thoughts.
“Fuck me,” he groans, though he doesn’t sound upset. No, he doesn’t sound upset at all, which makes me smile.
“Yeah,” I offer in agreement because I don’t know what else to say.
He lifts his head, smiling down at me. Oh, the look of pure satisfaction on his face is a sight to see. He’s adorably sexy.
Scratch that. He’s just flat-out sexy.
“Yeah? That’s all you have to say?” He dips his head, his mouth finding mine. “I didn’t rock your world?”
“Are you fishing for compliments?” I murmur against his lips.
“Maybe.” He grins. I can’t help but do the same.
“It was good,” I tell him.
“Great,” he murmurs.
“Wonderful,” I add.
“Fantastic,” he agrees. “Maybe we should do it again. See if it’s just as good as it was the first time.”
“Maybe it’ll be even better,” I suggest hopefully.
“Only one way to find out,” he says.
Right before he kisses me yet again.
Seventeen
Amelia
I breeze into Sweet Dreams as if I don’t have a care in the world. Wait in the tremendously long line that would usually send me into a tailspin of frustration. Instead, I stand there happily humming along with the overly cheerful holiday tunes playing overhead, smiling at everyone who passes me by.
They smile in return, and I realize everyone is smiling and happy this morning like me. Do they have the Christmas spirit? Or are all of them in such a good mood because they had the best sex of their life last evening?
Because that’s why I’m smiling.
I bow my head, my smile growing for no reason. Well, there is a reason. I’m thinking of last night. With Isaac. He was insatiable. Then again, so was I. We used up every one of those condoms in my bedside table—thank you, Candice, for providing them. We also did things that didn’t involve condoms, and that was fun too.
He reluctantly left my bed at five in the morning, the poor baby.
“Gotta get home and change and go to work,” he told me as he slipped on his shirt, hiding all of those glorious muscles from my view.
Such a disappointment.
“So early?” I asked.
He nodded, just before he grabbed his jeans and tugged those on, stumbling around in the semi-darkness of my bedroom. “I’ll text you later and we can get together. Cool?”
Of course I agreed. He grinned happily and delivered a searing kiss to my lips that left me tingling everywhere. I shoved him from me before we got too carried away.
A sigh leaves me. That’s the perfect way to describe me and Isaac. We get too carried away.
It’s wonderful.
“You are way too happy this morning,” Stella says when she spots me standing in line. Only two more to go until I can make my order. She’s working the espresso machine as per usual.
“Christmas is almost here,” I call to her, beaming. “Shouldn’t we all be happy?”
“Some people hate Christmas,” Stella says, getting a few grousing words of agreement from other customers. “And some don’t celebrate it at all.”
“True,” I say, bouncing on my toes. I’m not going to argue with her. She’s right. Why, just yesterday I hated Christmas. It’s a horrible, commercial holiday created just to push people into spending too much money they don’t have buying unnecessary gifts for the ungrateful people in their lives.
But that was the Amelia of yesterday. I’m a new person today. Reborn. Sexually alive and sparkling with vitality, damn it. I’ve had an awakening.
It’s all thanks to a certain man named Isaac.
Isaac with the sexy hands and the sweet smile and the sinful mouth.
Oh God, I’ve got it really, really bad right now.
“What’s your deal?” Stella asks me.
I startle when I realize she’s standing right next to me. “Why aren’t you behind the counter?”
“I asked t
hem to take over.” She waves a hand over at the bakery employee who’s taken her spot. “I wanted to come over and talk to you. You don’t seem right.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You look too…happy.” She tilts her head, contemplating me. “What’s gotten into you?”
I’m so tempted to say it’s Isaac who’s gotten into me—literally.
But I don’t.
Instead I send her a secretive smile and offer a one-shoulder shrug. “I woke up in a good mood.”
“Amelia, you’re never in a good mood this time of year,” Stella deadpans, her expression serious. “What happened? And please don’t tell me you got back together with he-who-shall-not-be-named.”
“You mean Joe?” I purposely drop his name in the most nonchalant way I can muster, right as I step up to the register and give my order to the cute teenaged girl who’s working. “Vanilla latte, please.”
“Skinny,” Stella adds for me.
I shake my head. “Regular, please.” Turning to Stella, I say, “I feel like living on the edge today.”
“With a regular vanilla latte?” Stella frowns. She looks so confused it’s almost comical. “Whoa there, sister. Calm down.”
“Shut up,” I say good naturedly as I pay for my drink and offer my punch card so I can get one step closer to earning a free purchase. I take my receipt and card and mosey over to the pickup counter, Stella keeping pace with me.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she says.
“I’m not back together with Joe,” I say firmly.
She gapes at me. “You just said his name. Twice.”
“You guys are the ones with the problem about saying his name,” I remind her.
Stella bursts out laughing. “Only because you had the problem first! What’s going on with you, Amelia? Seriously! You’re acting so…”
“So what?” I prompt.
“Weird!” she says. “Weirdly…happy?”
I just watch her, my brain scrambling to come up with the proper explanation without it sounding crude.
Had the best sex of my life last night. He made me come four times!
I swallowed like a champ for the very first time!
We fucked all night long!
Yeah. None of those options are polite. And we are in public after all.
“Amelia.”
“Stella,” I say in the same tone. “You keep saying my name.”
“I’m trying to make sure I’m talking to who I think I am. You’re not acting like yourself.”
“You keep saying that. And wouldn’t you say I’m acting…better?” I raise my brows in question.
“Come on, be real with me right now. What happened? You have to tell me. Something happened, I just know it.” Realization dawns on Stella’s face and she points at me. “That guy. The dude from the wedding.”
I press my lips to contain my joy that wants to shine through. “What about him?”
“You saw him again, am I right? Oh my God.” Stella takes a step closer, her voice lowering. “I bet you even had sex with him.”
She says those last few words a little too loudly and I clap my hand over her mouth, silencing her. “Maybe.”
She bats my hand away. “You did! Oooh, you sly dog. You look so happy because you got some!”
“Stella! Keep it down,” I whisper urgently.
She starts to laugh, shaking her head. “Oh wow, this is such a relief! I really thought you were going to say you got back together with the ex.”
I wrinkle my nose just thinking about that. “Ew. No. Not interested.”
“Yeah, because you’ve got someone else to keep you warm,” she teases.
“Is there something wrong with moving on?” I ask, sounding offended. Maybe because I am a little offended. This is what they all wanted from me, right? To move on? Forget Joe once and for all?
I remember all the times I said I was done with him, only to go back. The disappointment I would see in my friends’ gazes when I’d admit I went back. The matching disappointment I would feel when I’d tell them. I hated letting them down. Worse, I knew I was letting myself down. I was settling because I was scared to go anywhere else, and that is the most awful thing.
There was no reason for me to be scared, though I couldn’t see it then.
Look at me now. Surviving.
Thriving.
“Not at all,” Stella says firmly, her gaze locked with mine. “I’m so glad to hear you’ve found someone new. We all need a good rebound in our lives after we’ve gone through such a serious relationship.”
I nod and agree, but deep down, I stumble over that word.
Rebound.
Isaac doesn’t feel like that to me. But how can I admit that to Stella? She’d tell me I’m crazy. She’d probably be right too. I barely know this guy.
Yet he makes me feel like I’m walking on air. Floating on a cloud. And that is such a wonderful feeling. One I’ve never really experienced before.
“He’s really great,” I admit, my voice soft. As is my heart. Just thinking about him makes me feel all mushy inside.
“Someone’s got a crush,” Stella singsongs.
“Shush,” I tell her, though I’m still smiling.
“It’s nice to see. Funny how someone can walk into our lives and make us so happy just by existing,” Stella says thoughtfully.
“I feel that way about all of you,” I say without hesitation. “You guys are what got me through this breakup in the first place.”
Stella yanks me into a bone-crushing hug and I squeeze her back, suddenly fighting the tears that want to spring into my eyes. “We will always be there for you, you know.”
I smile at her in return when we each pull away slightly. “Right back at you.”
She studies me for a moment, our arms still wrapped around each other, two good friends sharing a moment. “You are fucking glowing,” she tells me, right as she seizes me into another giant hug. “He must have given you multiple orgasms.”
This last statement she murmurs close to my ear.
I pull out of her arms with a laugh, going to grab my cup, which was just set on the counter. “I’ll never tell,” I say as I head for the front door.
“Tease!” Stella calls after me.
I offer her an exaggerated wave in response.
And can’t keep the smile off my face the entire walk back to the jewelry store.
Eighteen
Isaac
I’m whistling along with the cheery Christmas song playing on the speakers throughout the farm as I haul yet another tree over my shoulder and lug it toward a customer’s car. The woman is fretting, literally wringing her hands. Worried that somehow during the drive home the tree will get damaged, and I do my best to reassure her.
“I’ll tie it down real good,” I tell her with a faint smile. My gaze goes to the two kids standing behind her, both of them watching me shyly as they suck on candy canes. “The tree will be in perfect condition when you get it home.”
“If you say so,” the woman draws out skeptically.
“Honey, stop,” her husband chastises before sending me an apologetic smile. “Last time we got a real Christmas tree a couple of years ago, it fell off the top of our car on the drive home. We were able to salvage it, but the tree took a beating thanks to rolling along the highway.”
“I want this Christmas to be perfect,” she stresses, glancing over her shoulder to smile at her children. “Santa will be here soon and they can’t wait.”
She’s worried for the kids. How can I complain about that? “I’ll make sure it’s tied down tight,” I reassure her. “That baby will be going nowhere. Trust me.”
Once I strap the tree down with so much twine it’ll take them hours to undo it all, I send them on their way, waving at them as they pull out of the lot.
“You’ve sure got a way with the customers, Jonesie,” I hear someone say from behind me. I turn to see my boss standing there, his hands on his hi
ps and a grin on his face.
Yeah. An actual grin. Can’t lie, it’s startling to see. Charlie doesn’t smile much. Though he’s been doing it pretty much nonstop since returning from his honeymoon. We figured we were in for a major grump upon his return. He never leaves during this time of year. Ever. We did our damnedest to make sure everything ran smoothly at the farm while he was gone, and I feel like we did a good job.
Apparently, we must’ve. Charlie hasn’t complained once upon his return. He constantly smiles and says the place looks great. He’s impressed with the daily sales totals. He compliments his sister, Victoria, on keeping everything in working order while he was gone, which caused a fight because she told him it was insulting that he didn’t believe she could manage it in the first place.
Ah, family-run businesses. They’re pretty great most of the time—though the family has no qualms with arguing.
I know I’ve always been on Charlie’s good side, and he’s been pretty pleased with what I do around here, but he doesn’t compliment me on a job well done. Not verbally. I get raises every year. I get a lot of thank-yous when I help him out. He’s not one to lavish on the praise, not that I need it.
It’s kind of weird then, that he’s complimenting me right now, but I’m going along with it like it’s no big deal.
“Thanks,” I tell him, kicking at a few stray rocks that came from the nearby pebbled parking lot. “I just want to make them happy.”
“You do a good job of it.” He falls into step beside me as we make our way back toward the farm. It’s bustling with people. Roaming through the rows of trees. Clustered around the wreath booth. Standing in line for a cup of hot chocolate or spilling out of the retail store. The farm comes alive for about thirty days every year, and so many people stream in and out of here—and the crowds grow every single year too. “Candice made a suggestion.”
“What did she suggest?” I nod at a family I spoke to earlier, and they smile and wave at me in return.
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