by Jenna Reed
4
Jonas
All day and all night, I could only think about one thing. Hannah’s naked body. Her perky, fill-my-hand sized breasts, her small waist, and wide hips leading me right to the most important part nestled between her thighs.
Her pussy was bare besides a tiny groomed landing strip above her slit. I really want to touch it and see if it is as smooth and soft as it looked. Just the thought has my cock stirring in my pants.
“Jonas, could you hand me the butter, please,” Anita’s voice drags me out of my little fantasy. A place I shouldn’t have let my mind wander, to begin with. It’s only then that I realize I have been standing in the middle of the kitchen staring at the white wall. All while running naked pictures through my mind like one of those porn machines they had in the fifties.
“Ah, sure. How much do you need?” I ask, opening the fridge. Anita roped me into helping her get the dough ready as soon as I came downstairs. Almost everyone in the house, including Hannah, is still asleep. I’m kind of an early riser, so I wasn’t surprised.
“All of it,” she tells me, and I stare at the pile of butter. It’s filling the complete bottom shelf of the fridge. Holy butter…
“Mhm, all of it?” I need to confirm this is right. Does she know how much is in here?
“Yes,” she chuckles. “We’re making eight batches of cookie dough, and I need three sticks of butter for each.”
“If you say so.” I shrug and start to get the butter out, lining the sticks up as instructed by Anita.
“You’ve been sleeping well?” Anita asks out of the blue.
“Me? Yeah, of course. Why? I mean, why wouldn’t I?” I stumble over my words, probably sounding as guilty as I feel. Does she know about yesterday? Did Hannah tell her? No, she couldn’t have unless she snuck out last night, which I doubt since I was up most of the night thinking about her.
“Oh my god!” Anita yells in a high-pitched voice. I’m mentally preparing myself to go upstairs, pack my bag and drive home to spend Christmas by myself. Looking over at her, I get ready to explain myself when I realize she isn’t even looking at me. Instead, she’s looking out the window. I follow her gaze and immediately know what she is squealing about.
“It’s snowing,” I point out the obvious.
“Yes! Now it’s going to be a perfect Christmas,” she smiles widely, her happiness infectious. A warm feeling settles in my stomach as I watch the small crystal flakes fall from the sky and start to settle onto the ground outside.
Soft footfalls echo as someone comes down the stairs, and excitement grips onto me. It’s funny to think of how excited I am to simply see Hannah. Especially since I saw her right before I came downstairs. I turn around, expecting to find my brown-haired beauty with the spunky attitude, but I’m utterly disappointed when I see Darla instead.
“Ohhh, it’s snowing,” she says, clapping her hands together like a seal doing a trick at SeaWorld. Anita returns to her work, mixing ingredients together, and then kneading the dough.”
“Yeah, maybe it will snow enough today that we can go sledding tomorrow,” I suggest.
“Sledding?” Darla says the word like she’s never heard it before. “I can’t risk breaking a nail. I don’t even know where the nearest nail salon is.”
I have to fight both urges, to laugh and roll my eyes.
“Maybe we can relax in the hot tub instead,” she tells me, touching my arm right over my biceps. Of course, that’s the moment Hannah comes down the stairs. Her eyes immediately fall onto Darla’s hand that’s casually resting on my arm. At the sight, her face twists into a deep frown, and I step away and around the counter. I don’t want her to think something is going on with Darla even though it wouldn’t matter if there were.
Opening the refrigerator, I get out a small bottle of orange juice.
When I turn back around, Darla has sat down on a barstool at the end of the island, her attention on her long-manicured nails, the same ones she was so worried about a second ago.
“Good morning, Mom,” Hannah greets, ignoring her cousin and myself. She walks up to the fridge, averting her gaze, clearly trying to look anywhere but at me. I watch her pour herself a glass of milk before she takes a seat at the island as well. It’s the one on the other side, the furthest away from Darla.
“Why don’t you come sit with us?” Darla coos. I notice how she said us when she clearly meant me.
“Sure,” I fake smile. I walk around the island, cornering the side Darla is sitting on, but instead of taking the seat next to her, I pass the two empty seats and sit down on the one right next to Hannah. Neither says a word, and silence blankets the room.
Opening the bottle, I take a sip of the tangy liquid and peek over to my right. Darla’s staring at me, her nose tipped up, a permanent scowl on her face. I know what I’ve done, that I’ve made my choice between the two of them known. As if there would be any other option but Hannah. Without a word said, she gets up and walks out of the kitchen with her head held high as if she is too good for us.
Bye Felicia.
“Well, I guess she didn’t want to help make cookies.” Anita shrugs, clearly having not paid attention to what just took place. Hannah stares into her cup of milk like it holds all the answers, ignoring me completely. Am I that disinteresting?
“Will you two help? It’s a family tradition, and I have a ton of baking to do.” She turns to both of us, batting her eyelashes as if we could actually say no. This is what it’s all about, cookies, sledding, spending time together as a family. Even though my parents aren’t here, I still feel like I’m surrounded by family, minus the grump currently sitting beside me.
“Of course, Mom. I love making cookies. You know that.” Hannah finally looks up from the glass and at her mom. Her want to please her mom must be greater than her want to get away from me. Or maybe she thinks I’m going to back out? Think again, sweetheart.
“I’ll help too. I have nothing to do.” I smile and turn to Hannah, who is now staring at me like she is willing grenades from her eyes. I’m pretty sure if she could kill me and get away with it, she would.
“Yay! Okay, so here is the first batch of dough. The dough needs to be rolled out, and then you can use the cookie cutters to make shapes.” A rolling pin and every cookie cutter in the county is moved from the counter to right in front of us.
A second later, Anita plops a bowl of sugar cookie dough down in front of Hannah.
“Oh, and don’t forget the flour,” she grabs a canister of that from the cabinet and shoves it at me. “Always coat the dough with lots of flour, or it will stick to the pin and the table. Get to work, kids.” With a smile, she turns away from us and starts another batch, humming a Christmas carol as she mixes.
“I really, really don’t like you,” Hannah mutters under her breath as she grabs a handful of flour and sprinkles it over the countertop. Next, she takes the blob of dough and deposits it on top of the flour. Using her fist, she punches the dough to flatten it, I guess, or maybe just to get out some of her penned-up aggression toward me.
“Are you imagining the dough as my face?”
“Damn straight I am,” she shamelessly admits, giving it another good punch. Unable to resist, I take a pinch of flour between my fingers and throw it at her face. She freezes, then slowly turns her head so she can full-on glaring at me. Her cheek is covered in the white powdery substance, and I can’t help but grin from ear to ear.
Without ever breaking eye contact, she reaches for the flour container to grab the scoop inside. I barely have time to close my eyes before she catapults the entire scoop’s contents into my face. When I open my eyes again, I find her gaze has softened, and her lips are pulled up into a smile.
“You’re gonna regret that,” I warn, just before all flour-hell breaks loose. Like little kids we both start to grab handfuls of flour and throw them at each other, knocking over the whole container in the process. Within three seconds, the kitchen is engulfed in one big cloud
. You can’t see anything but white powder.
Both of us are smiling and laughing, and for the first time since we were little, I feel like we’re friends instead of enemies.
“Are you serious?” Anita yells through the chaos, causing both of us to pause mid-throw. “What in the world are you two thinking?”
Immediately, I feel bad. Like really, really bad. “I’m sorry, Anita.” I frown, letting my hands fall down to my sides.
“He started it!” Hannah defends herself.
“He started it?” Anita asks, her voice so high-pitched it almost hurts my ear. “What are you, five? You two are acting like children. I don’t care who started it. I want this cleaned up right now.”
Anita storms out of the kitchen, frustrated with us, and now I actually do feel like a child. The white cloud settles around us, and when I peek over at Hannah, she looks just as disappointed in herself as I am. Actually, she looks worse than that, she looks like she’s about to cry.
Oh, god, please, don’t cry.
“This is my mom’s favorite time of the year, and we’re ruining it,” she mumbles in a low voice, flour falling off of her gray-looking hair like fresh snow.
“Let’s clean this up,” I offer, “and then we’ll act like adults the rest of the week. I know you don’t want me to be here, but I am, and I’m not leaving to spend Christmas alone. So, can we just call it a truce, at least for the rest of the time that I’m here?”
Hannah stares at me for a long hard second. I hold my breath, thinking she is about to say no for sure, but after another minute, her shoulders sag, and she lets out a defeated sigh.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I do actually agree with you. Let’s call it a truce, and we’ll at least try to get along for the next few days. It’s Christmas after all,” she huffs, holding out her powdery hand. “Truce?”
“Truce,” I repeat, taking her tiny hand into mine. Now let’s just hope we can keep it that way.
5
Hannah
After we scrubbed the kitchen and apologized to my mom, the rest of the day actually went pretty well. We helped Mom bake cookies. Nana, Laura, and Jake all came and joined in while Darla and my dad only came by to eat the cookies.
“Those all are really good, but I seriously don’t think I can eat another one. I’m so stuffed,” Dad says, patting his belly.
“I know how you feel,” I grunt, touching my own stomach.
“That’s what Christmas is about. Getting stuffed with good food until you can’t walk and have to pop open the button on your pants,” Nana tells me while knitting a scarf. Sitting on the recliner with her reading glasses on, she couldn’t look more like a grandma. A sweet old lady knitting her grandbabies things to keep them warm. It’s hard to believe that this is the same woman who, on a regular basis, says things like, “That’s a fine piece of ass” or “I’d hit that.”
“Dave, honey. Can you put some more wood into the fireplace, please?” Mom yells from the kitchen. She is making eggnog right now. Seriously, I don’t know why she doesn’t pull a bed in there, so she doesn’t have to leave that room at all.
“Yes, dear,” Dad replies and gets up from his recliner with a grunt.
“Welcome to Park Place, brother, and thank you for staying at my hotel, Jonas,” Jake gloats. I look over to the dining room table, where Jake, Jonas, and Laura are playing Monopoly. I declined the invite to a board game, being much happier cuddled up on the couch with my kindle. Darla also opted out to paint her toenails instead.
“Great, I’m broke… unless you want to give me a sibling discount and let me stay for free?”
“Pfft, you can pay double if you want.”
“I was getting bored anyway,” Laura admits. “Let’s call it a game. I would rather go and soak in the hot tub for a while.”
“Hot tub?” Darla perks up from the other end of the couch. “I’d love to sit in the hot tub with you guys.”
“Why don’t you kids all go,” Nana says, looking directly at me. Darla is already up from her seat and hovering over her suitcase, digging around for her bikini.
“My nails are dry now. I’ll be ready in two minutes,” she says, almost shaking with excitement.
“Yeah, come on,” Laura chimes in, “Hannah, get your bathing suit on.”
For a moment longer, I stay wrapped up under my thick blanket, clutching onto my kindle a little bit harder. Do I really want to get undressed, walk out into the freezing cold just to sit in some hot bubbly water for a while?
The word no is sitting on the tip of my tongue, but then Jonas walks past me and out of the room. My eyes are glued to his muscular back, his muscles moving under his sweater as he walks. My insides tingle a little at the thought, and I’m reminded of how he looks with much less clothing on, and suddenly, I’m on my feet.
“Fine, I’ll come too.” I push up from the comfort of the couch and follow Jonas up to our room.
“I’ll change in the bathroom,” he tells me after he finds his swimming trunks. “You can change in here if you want. I’ll knock before I come back out.”
“Sounds good,” I agree and fish out my own bikini from my bag. He closes the door between us, and I quickly undress and slip into my swimwear. Luckily, I shaved last night, so I have one less thing to possibly be embarrassed about.
A moment later, Jonas knocks on the door, “You good?”
“Yeah, come in.” The bathroom door opens, and Jonas’s hunky body fills out the wooden frame. His eyes roam my body the second he steps back into the room. I can feel them on me, burning a path of fire over my skin and deep into my belly as he takes in every inch of me.
“You look… nice,” he finally says. I can’t shake the feeling that nice wasn’t the word he meant to say. What else was he thinking? Hot? Sexy? Fuckable? ’Cause those are all the words running loose in my mind as I let my gaze trace over all his perfectly sculpted muscles.
“You look nice too,” I grin. “There should be robes and slippers in the linen closet.”
Standing there for a second longer, he turns and returns back to the bathroom to retrieve them and hands me one of each. I slip into the fluffy robe and white slippers. Watching him do the same.
“I think Jake was more excited about the hot tub than anything else,” Jonas tells me on the walk down.
“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. Especially when it’s so cold outside. There is just something magical about sitting in the cool fresh air, but your body is all warm and cozy.”
Jonas just nods, and I don’t want to know what’s going on in his mind right now.
“Have fun, kids!” Mom yells from the kitchen as we pass, and I say a silent prayer, hoping that my grandma keeps her catcalls to herself as we walk outside.
Jonas opens the door for me, and a freezing cold gust of wind whips through my robe. Shit, this is cold. My nipples harden, and I start to shiver right away. Speed walking the five feet to the hot tub, I consider just jumping into the bubbly hot water but decide against it. I’d rather have a dry robe to return to the house in. As quickly as I can, I slip out of the robe and slippers and climb into the steaming tub.
As soon as I lower myself into the cozy water, every muscle in my body relaxes. Jonas is right behind me, and I have to force myself not to stare at him while he moves. All that hulking muscle and those perfect ridges.
“You’re staring again,” he points out with a sly grin.
“No, I’m not,” I blatantly lie. The door to the inside opens, and the rest of the gang floods outside to climb into the tub one by one. It’s a six-person tub. With two seats on three of the sides. Just like in the kitchen, Jonas chooses to take the seat next to me, leaving Darla to sit on her own.
Darla climbs in last, wearing a golden triangle bikini that barely covers all her bits and pieces. I catch Jonas glancing over at her, and even though I have no right, the nasty feeling of jealousy runs through me. In that moment, Jonas’s leg touches my thigh, and all those unwanted feelings
melt away, tuning into something else entirely.
Shoving the tingling feelings away, I have to remind myself that even though I’m being nice to him, we’re still technically enemies. I’m pretty sure I have my feelings under control when he lifts his arm and places it against the back of the hot tub, millimeters away from my own skin.
Darla openly gawks at Jonas, sending him so many signals he has to know she’s interested by now. Ignoring them, I stare down at the bubbling water. Maybe I should’ve stayed on the couch with my book? Laura cuddles deep into Jake’s side, whispering into his ear. I see her hand moving to his crotch under the water. Jake’s face heats, and I roll my eyes. Can they not stop having sex for this trip?
As if Laura could read my mind, she straightens up and clears her throat. “Sorry,” she giggles.
“Ugh, that couch is so uncomfortable.” Darla starts rubbing her neck. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can sleep on that again tonight. Maybe you could switch with me, Hannah?”
“I thought you couldn’t sleep without the TV running?” I ask, trying not to show my anger toward her.
“I could probably turn my phone on YouTube or something. I can figure it out,” she smiles and bats her eye-lashes. “So, you don’t mind, right? I can move my stuff after we get out.”
What the hell?
“I do mind, actually. I’m already settled in the room.”
Darla snorts, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She shoots Jonas a glance before getting out of the water, shaking her barely covered ass as she does. Ripping her robe from the hook, she pulls it on and storms inside, damn near slipping in the process.
“Okaaaaay,” Jake mumbles. “What the hell was that about?”
“I don’t know, baby, but I can’t take this anymore. Take me to our room,” Laura’s voice turns to silk as she damn near climbs onto Jake’s lap again.
Fake gagging, I grimace, “Eww, can’t you two stop?”
