Stocking Stuffers: A Five Story Christmas Anthology

by E. J. Darling

  Knowing in a few short hours their interlude would be over hurt so much more than walking in on her ex. The weekend was intended to help her forget the asshole, and it succeeded in a way that made her remember to be careful what she wished for. There was a brand new, and far more acute, pain to contend with.

  She gave up on rationalizing it, telling herself it was impossible to fall hard and fast, that he was a rebound and she wasn’t in her right frame of mind.

  But she knew differently.

  For years she knew him, his habits, and his priorities. As much as she teased him for it, he was active in children’s charities, visited schools throughout the holidays to present them with much needed equipment or books. He read a book at each school, a tradition he held for almost a decade.

  The ethical consistency in his business dealings, something she couldn’t say for a lot of other sharks in the infested waters he swam in, spoke to his character arguably more than the charity work. Not to mention, it was a guilty pleasure seeing the pictures of him with all the kids, usually with a few on his lap or climbing up his back as he sat on the floor with them. Every picture with a broad smile. She always knew he’d be an amazing father.

  In that moment, she wanted to make him one.

  Then there was his insistence on helping her with her coat, walking her to her car every night since the day she started working there. They were small things, but when piled with everything else only proved her feelings likely started long before this weekend. She may not have ever thought of him romantically before, but the natural shift over the past several days would be impossible to shift back from.

  Instead, she had to see him five days a week, his door a physical and metaphorical barrier between them. She’d live for the seconds of contact when he helped her with her coat, lingering for just a few precious seconds before taking the elevator ride to her car.

  Unless she gave in to what they both wanted, acknowledged what they had went far deeper than a superficial weekend, their relationship spanned far more than a handful of days. It didn’t have to be the end. He made it more than clear he wanted more with her. He wanted more than Christmas, more than a weekend.

  More than she was ready to give.

  After the holidays she’d think about it. Away from Aspen, away from the magical getaway he provided her. Away from private reef dives, and dancing in the kitchen. From movie nights spent in his arms, and afternoons spent in his bed.

  Away from everything that might be affecting her judgement in the aftermath of ending a long term relationship. If she still wanted it after a week away from him, she’d know it was more than the magic of Christmas.

  “You ready for bed?”

  She focused on the TV again and realized the credits were rolling. She pushed off the couch and looked down at him, his hands trailing up her ribs beneath her shirt, holding her just beneath her breasts. “Yeah.”

  They stared, resignation mirrored in his eyes. “My bed tonight.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. It would be their last time, perhaps forever. She took his hands when he shifted out from under her and reached to help her stand, and went willingly when he tugged her against him to press his mouth to hers. It was a chaste kiss, slow, gentle, and not breaching the border of her lips.

  He pressed his forehead to hers, their noses bumping as he held her tight. “I’m going to savor you, Val, worship you. Like you deserve to be.”

  “Jaime,” the confession sat on the tip of her tongue, but she pulled it back at the last second. Telling him before she was sure wasn’t fair to either of them. She wouldn’t give him hope until she knew.

  “What?” He hooked his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up and meet his eyes.

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Come with me.” He released her just enough to allow them to walk, still holding her to his side.

  She laughed as she snuggled into him while they climbed the stairs. “You haven’t disappointed yet.”

  When they crossed the threshold into his room, he turned her and captured her mouth with his. He explored her slowly, no demands, no conquering. Just a lazy perusal she returned as she laced her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer, holding tight and wishing she never had to let go. Already her body was ready for him, her breaths coming faster, a dampness in her panties she couldn’t deny.

  All because of a kiss.

  He broke away, fisting her hair and tugging gently until she made eye contact. “Val, I need to ask you.” There was a slight shake of his head as his heavy gaze held hers captive. “Say no if you don’t want it.”

  She knew. It was as if she could read his mind, and she wanted it, too. “I’m on the pill. I never had sex with him without a condom, I’m clean.”

  “Are you sure?” His grip tightened and he closed his eyes nuzzling her neck with his nose.

  “I want to feel you. I want to feel everything.”

  A low growl emitted from deep in his chest as he feasted on her neck, the heat and rumble combining with the familiar sensation of his teeth against her skin sending her senses into overdrive. She craved the pain, the feel of his teeth bruising her, leaving her mementos to remind her for days to come.

  He released her to slide his hands beneath her shirt, lifting it over her head slowly, his eyes following it up until they met hers again. After tossing it away, he bent to press his lips to the swell of her breasts as he reached around and deftly unclasped her bra, drawing his fingertips achingly slow down her arms as he slid it off.

  Every touch, every brush of clothing against her skin, was felt everywhere. He bit down hard on her breast, drawing a gasp from her as he slipped his hands into the waistband of her pants and shoved them down. He tugged his own shirt over his head as she stepped out of her pants and reached for his, sliding them down over his thighs.

  A sharp intake of breath, and his hands fisted as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Get in the bed.”

  Knowing she could elicit such a reaction, knowing she affected him as much as he did her, gave her a confidence she never felt before.

  She did as he commanded, sitting on the edge and sliding backward, watching him as he stepped out of his pants and stalked her toward the bed. There was no doubt of his arousal, it stood hard and demanding as he moved up over her. She ran her fingers over his chest, gliding over his shoulders and clasping them behind his neck.

  He lifted one thigh and wrapped it around his waist before easing into her. The feel of him, no barrier between them, was more exquisite than she imagined. The slow pace with which he entered and retreated, the sweetest torture.

  He adjusted his angle, tilting her hips, his cock gliding over the tiny bundle of nerves demanding attention from him. At her low moan, he took advantage of her arched neck, kissing along it, down to her shoulder, sucking gently on her skin.

  “Harder, Jaime.” The command was a gasp, gripping his hair and tugging, pressing him further into her neck.

  The next time he entered her it was forcefully, his pace increasing as he hiked her thigh higher.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Here.” When she tugged his hair, he laughed softly into her neck.

  “You want me to mark you?” He scraped his teeth along her skin, teasing as he gave gentle nips. Nothing to satisfy, nowhere near enough to sate the need for him to claim her in the most primal way. “Ask me, Val.”

  “I need your teeth on me, hard, bite my shoulder, Jaime. Bruise me. Please.”

  He moved faster still, rubbing against her, carrying her to the edge.

  Lips over her skin, his punishing pace increasing the friction against her, hitting that spot inside of her it seemed only he could reach. It all whirled together and combined, pushing her to the edge, bringing her so close. When his teeth sank deep into her shoulder it sent her over the edge. She cried his name as she arched into him, holding him tight as he held still, emptying himself inside of her. Scattered kisses over the spot on her sh
oulder she knew would be a visual reminder for days felt sinful, dirty, delicious.

  “I am never going to let you go.” He whispered the words in her ear, brushing his lips over her neck, his heavy breaths hot on her skin. Curling his arm around her waist, he turned her until she was on top of him, her head tucked under his chin.

  A claim on her, a demand she give in to him. It brought home how unsure she was, how impulsive the weekend was. Aspen wasn’t real, none of it was real. It was magic, just like he said, and magic never lasted. It would stay in the cabin in the mountains long after they left it. Once they were home, she would need time. Time away from him, time to make her decision objectively.

  In the meantime, she needed him.

  “I don’t want to sleep.” She settled her legs between his, feeling exhaustion steal over her despite her efforts to fight it.

  He chuckled, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. “Why not?”

  “Because that means tomorrow will come, and we leave tomorrow.”

  He tightened his other arm around her, kissed the top of her head. “Then let’s keep each other up all night, figure out what the world record is for orgasms and beat it. Deal?”

  She turned into his chest, burying her nose into it and inhaling deep. “Deal.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Despite making a decent showing at the Guinness World Record attempt, they didn’t quite break the one hundred and thirty-four orgasm record.

  Fuck, but he’d had a good time trying. He was tempted to wake her and continue their efforts, but she hadn’t had more than an hour or so of sleep all night.

  The thought of letting her go, having to see her every day, being close enough to touch her but unable to, would be a hell he’d never escape. The closer it came to the time to leave, the more he found he couldn’t touch her enough, feel her enough.

  The clock on the wall struck eight, and it was a stark reminder of how little time they had left. He wanted to leave by ten. The drive home was going to be brutal, and that was the latest he wanted to go while ensuring they both survived the trek. Especially as sleep deprived as he was.

  She stirred in the bed, her brow furrowed as she reached out to his side of the bed, finding it empty.

  He brushed his fingers along her face, and her expression settled as she turned toward him, and pushed her cheek further into his hand. It was those moments that gave him hope, the signs her subconscious wanted him as much as he wanted her. He just needed to convince the logical side of her brain to give in.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and a frown crossed her lips as she looked at him. “You’re dressed.”

  As much as he wanted to join her back in bed, he knew they wouldn’t leave if he did. The worst conundrum he’d faced in his life. Responsibility won, as it always did. “We should start packing.”

  “Yeah.” There was no motivation to let her go, not when he knew it was one step closer to losing her. But, there was little choice. They couldn’t stay in Aspen forever, as much as he wanted to. Real life beckoned, and it refused to be ignored.

  They were both sluggish and silent as they packed their things and loaded the car. He shut the trunk, turning to her, wishing he could find the words to convey his thoughts, wishing there was some way he could make it possible to keep her.

  Her withdrawal made it clear she intended to leave Aspen in Aspen.

  Not getting what he set his mind to achieve was a foreign feeling, and unpleasant as it was, he’d give up so many other things if it meant he could somehow have her. It was useless musing, useless wishing, there was no choice but to settle for a chaste kiss and opening her car door, closing it behind her.

  The one benefit of their drive home was the last chance to watch her sleep. The last several hours of the drive she passed out in the seat next to him, and he took the opportunity to watch her as much as he safely could. Their fingers were laced together, his grip on her hand tight as he knew it would be his last chance to linger while touching her.

  The trip home was hell, the minutes ticking away faster than he liked, taunting him. Pulling into her driveway was even harder. Like when they arrived in Aspen, a lifetime ago, he pushed her hair away from her face and brushed his fingers over her skin.

  Warm and soft skin he’d never feel again.

  Hair he’d never again run his fingers through.

  Her eyes blinked open and that sexy sleepy smile crossed her features, but immediately fell once she realized where they were. She sat up in the car and looked out the windshield, confirming their weekend was over. “We’re home.”

  “Yeah. I’ll help you carry your stuff in.”

  She shook her head hard. “No, that’s okay. I’ve got it.” She slipped from the car, without even a backward glance.

  He popped the trunk and got out, he wasn’t going to let her leave like that. Without one last attempt to convince her.

  “Don’t, Jamie. Don’t make this any harder.”

  He reached out and traced his thumb over her chin. “Consider it.”

  She looked up, the tears in her eyes stabbing him in the chest. “I will. I promise you, I will. But I need to look at this away from everything, with a cold and clinical eye. I need to be back in real life when I decide this. Back in my empty apartment, in the aftermath of the cheating ex. I need to pick up the pieces and move forward before I can forge a new start. No baggage from this year, I’m leaving every bit of it behind. When the clock turns over next week, this will all be behind me. Over. Out of my head. Then I’ll make a decision about us. You can give me a week.”

  “Are you going to the New Year’s party?” He never went, found the entire thing ridiculous, but everyone else loved it. If it meant he could see her, though, he’d suffer through it. If it meant he could keep himself in her thoughts, increase his chances of her relenting, he’d take it without question.

  She shook her head hard and fast.

  “You always go.”

  “I don’t want questions or pity, I don’t want anything that will take away from the celebration that will be the end of the nightmare of this year. I’ve never gone alone, and I just don’t want the reminder.”

  “It’s just a silly superstition. The whole kiss at midnight thing. The timing of a kiss doesn’t mean a thing.” He enjoyed more meaningful kisses in the past three days than there could ever be at some arbitrary time some romantic fool made up.

  She tilted her head back, offering her lips to him. “I used to think it did.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t.” He bent and took her lips with his, threading both hands into her hair as he explored her mouth. She tasted so fucking good, reminiscent of the cinnamon chocolate chip cookies they finished in the car, but also a taste that was her. A taste he couldn’t describe and would never forget. It was laced with a desperation, the same he felt as he moved closer, kissed her deeper, held her tighter.

  But, the moment had to end. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t fuck her against an exterior door. He pulled away, breathing heavy as he released her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Driving away from you will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I’ll do it because you need it. When you’re deciding, trying to figure out how much of it was real and wasn’t. Know how much I want to stay. How walking away right now is going to kill me.”

  She nodded, eyes shimmering as she curled her arms around her waist.

  He forced his body to turn and walk back to the car, to not look back, to not meet what he knew would be sad eyes watching him go. The pressure in his chest threatened to crack it open from the inside, the tightness suffocating him. Despite it all, he opened the car door and got in, shutting it and looking up to see her watching him.

  They stared across the darkness for what felt like hours, but in reality was only seconds, before she went inside and shut the door behind her. He exhaled hard, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, hating how right she was.

  She needed to come to this decision on he
r own, away from him, away from everything that made their magical getaway magical. She needed to want him in the real world.

  He didn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Val wandered through the room, cursing herself for changing her mind. She knew better than to come, knew she would be miserable. But her friend Michelle, PA to one of Jaime’s business partners and her closest work friend, talked her into it. Showed up at her house and demanded she get dressed, was more like it.

  She’d spend the week packing, fruitlessly hunting for new apartments, and dreaming about Aspen. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him, every time she fell asleep she was back in his arms. The first few days it made sense, by day five she knew it wouldn’t let up. No matter how she tried to occupy her mind, he wouldn’t leave it. The previous night, as she sat mindlessly watching a Claymation Christmas movie for the fifth time that week, she realized she hadn’t thought of her ex since she got home.

  Not once.

  It was all Jaime.

  That’s when Michelle stormed her apartment, rummaging through her closet and demanding she put on makeup. Michelle was the only one who knew what happened that weekend, the only one who knew she’d fallen hard for the one man she never should have touched. The man she was equally dreading and dreaming of seeing again.

  But not tonight.

  She wouldn’t be able to handle that. There wasn’t enough liquor in the building to allow her to deal with that. She was still wondering how bad it would look if she called out Tuesday.

  Coming up with the courage to tell your boss you loved him was even harder than admitting it to yourself.

  A hand reached out and took hers, and she knew immediately whose it was. Only he could affect her so much with a simple touch. A deep steadying breath filled her lungs as she braced herself to face him. Slowly, she turned, fighting back her emotions as she looked up at him. "Why are you here?"