by Penny Wylder
“You should,” Trevor says, “but Brad says it’s not your way.”
“Oh really?” I give Brad a look. “And what else did Brad say?”
Brad starts laughing. “Only good things, I promise.”
“You told him about the tree, didn’t you?” I narrow my eyes. “Don’t lie.”
It’s Trevor’s face that gives it away. He’s trying desperately to hold in laughter, but it’s not working. “Fine, he told me. But believe me, it doesn’t change the way I think about you. It’s a great mental picture, though.”
“Perfect,” I say.
When Brad was ten I got a tree that was way too big for the house. I thought it would fit—I insisted that it would fit. It didn’t fit. It ended up falling on me in a very comical, cartoon way. Wiley Coyote would be proud.
“Well,” I say, “two can play at that game.”
“Mom, no.”
I turn to Trevor. “Has Brad ever told you about the Christmas broken arm?”
“No.” His eyes light up and he leans in. “Please tell me.”
Brad groans and mumbles under his breath.
“Brad decided he wanted to decorate his tree house for Christmas. Only, he didn’t tell me he was going to try to decorate it, so he didn’t use a ladder, or any of the right tools. He ended up hanging from the tree house by a string of lights. I guess you can imagine the rest.”
“Man.” Trevor looks at Brad. “That sucks. Also, how did I not know you had a tree house?”
Brad makes a face at him. “My uncle built it for me.”
“Is it still there?”
“Sure is.” I say, “Though it has holes in the roof now.”
Trevor takes another bite of his Chinese food. “I must see this deadly tree house when we get back.”
I laugh. “Fine.”
We finish our food and trek to the car. Once home and unloaded, there’s nothing I would like to do more than take a nap, but Trevor hasn’t forgotten about the tree house. Brad leads the way, and Trevor manages to sneak in a kiss on my cheek as we walk outside. That place inside my chest warms up, even though it’s freezing outside.
The tree house is in the back corner of our yard, and it’s pretty great as far as tree houses go. Bradley really out did himself. It’s huge and sturdy. Brad spent many a summer night holed up in there with friends. We climb the ladder into it, and even though we have to duck down a little, it’s still spacious. Like I said, there’s a couple holes in the ceiling and a little snow on the floor, but otherwise it’s in great shape.
“Here it is,” Brad says.
Trevor is pacing up and down the length of it. “This is fantastic. I can’t believe I never knew this was back here.”
“Yeah,” Brad says a little sheepishly, “I used it less in high school.”
“I would have totally used this in high school,” Trevor laughs. “It’s a built-in bachelor pad.”
I nod. “He tried that once.”
Brad ducks his head. “The grounding was epic.”
I sigh, thinking about everything I just bought. “Speaking of epic, the wrapping session I’m about to have will be epic.”
“Oh crap,” Brad says.
“What?”
“I forgot my white elephant gift.”
I frown. “For who?”
“The team. We’re having a funny gift exchange right when we get back,” he says.
“Well,” I say, checking the time, “you’ve got plenty of time to go back if you want to. But you don’t go back to school for a while if you want to wait.”
“I think I want to get it over with so I don’t forget. Can I have the keys?”
I nod. “They’re on the counter.”
“Great. I’ll be back,” Brad says. “Don’t fall out of the tree house while I’m gone.”
“We won’t,” I say, laughing and moving to climb down.
Trevor catches me by the waist. “Stay,” he says softly.
He sits on the floor, crossing his legs. I sit across from him. “Did you get all the presents you needed?” I ask. “You get something for your parents?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, moving so our knees are touching. He laughs softly. “You know, I wanted to tell you, I’m having such a good time. I’m glad everything fell through.”
“What happened?”
“My parents,” he says, looking down. “They decided to go away on a cruise for Christmas, and they forgot to tell me until they had already left for the port. They said they’d feel more comfortable if I didn’t stay in the house alone.”
“It’s good that they didn’t want you to be alone.”
“More like they don’t trust me in the house.”
I reach out, put my hand on his knee. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is,” he says simply. “If they didn’t want me to be or feel alone, they would have called me on my birthday. They didn’t. I don’t know if they remembered.”
There’s a pang in my chest and I want to hug the sadness out of him, but I haven’t known him sad. I don’t know how he likes to be comforted. He takes my hand and squeezes. “But, even without the sex, this has been one of the best Christmas vacations I’ve had so far.”
I try to pull my hand away. “One of the best?”
“You can’t beat Christmas when I was nine. I got an Xbox and a scooter. That’s every boy’s dream.”
“But with the sex?”
He smiles, uses my hand to tug me toward him. “Hands down best vacation ever.”
“It better be,” I say as he kisses me.
“You think he’s gone by now?”
“Brad? Yes.”
Trevor pulls me to my knees. “And your brother’s family is out doing who-knows-what.”
“That’s right,” I laugh.
“For the moment, we’re totally alone?”
Tingles start in my chest and flutter downward. Totally alone. “Yes.”
“In that case,” he says, “I intend to make you scream.”
He tugs open the buttons on my coat, and I grab at his hands. “Here?”
“Here.”
“Trevor, it’s freezing.”
His grin is wicked, “You’ll be warm when I’m finished with you. Now don’t move.” He opens my coat, and tugs my shirt upward. Not far, but enough to expose a strip of skin to the open air. My belt is next, falling open along with the button on my jeans. He shoves my jeans down my hips, and my panties follow. Again, not far, just far enough for him to reach, and reach he does. He swirls his fingers through my folds, testing how wet I am for him. I shudder on his fingers, their cold touch sending goosebumps across my skin.
“I love how wet you always are for me,” he says, dipping a finger inside my entrance and using the wetness to smooth over my clit. I arch into him, loving the feel of his hands on me. I’ll lay in the snow naked if he wants, as long as he doesn’t stop touching me. His thumb circles my clit, faster and faster, overloading the nerves and sending me over into a quick and bright orgasm. It’s short and fierce, gone in a flash. But now, Trevor has a finger inside me, gently pushing in and out. “We’re alone,” he says. “You can let go.”
He slides a second finger into me, and I gasp. His fingers are still cold and my pussy is hot. The contrast is adding to how quickly I’m moving towards a second orgasm. He fucks me with his hand—doesn’t slow down, doesn’t relent. He curls his fingers inside me, and suddenly he’s scraping across that spot deep inside that makes me see stars. I moan, and the sound urges him on. He flicks his thumb across my clit, and I go over the edge. His fingers stay deep inside me, pressing against that spot and wringing pleasure from me. I cry out and my voice in the space sounds loud.
I open my eyes to find Trevor smiling. “I like the way you sound.” His words make me flush, and I’m determined to repay the favor. I reach for him, and he grabs my wrist. Removing his hand from my pussy, he grabs my other hand, pulling them gently behind my back and holding them there.
“What are you doing?”
“Removing temptation,” he says. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
“But—” He slips his fingers back into my pussy, and my words turn into a moan. I’m far too sensitive now, every touch resonating through my body. “Trevor.”
“Yes?” He slides a third finger inside me and I lose all train of thought. His movements are slow and steady, giving me a chance to feel every inch of fingers in me. “Stella?”
I take a shaky breath, try to find my words through the haze. “It’s too much.”
“Do you like having my fingers deep inside you? Making you come?” My pussy contracts around his hand and he laughs softy. “It feels like you do.” He pushes his fingers all the way in, and I feel deliciously stretched. He moves them back and forth, and my body shudders, unused to the sensations coming from inside me. He pulls his hand out, using fingers to coat the edge of my pussy with my own juices. I’m about to ask him why, but I don’t have the chance. He pushes into me again, and there are four. He has four fingers inside me.
My breath comes in huffs, the air clouding in front of me. His fingers are still inside, letting me adjust. His hand tightens on my wrists, and I’m overwhelmed by the sensation of being held here, impaled on his hand. I know that if I ask, he’ll stop. I don’t want to stop. He slides out a little and I moan. This feels so different from his cock, full in an entirely different way. He’s moving so slowly. It’s at once agonizing and amazing.
Sliding back in sets my whole body on fire. Trevor was right, I’m not even remotely cold anymore. He starts a slow rhythm with his fingers, and my head falls back. I hear myself saying yes, over and over. I hadn’t even realized I was doing that. His fingers move faster and it feels like I’m already coming, my entire body filled with pleasure. But he doesn’t stop, and I’m not sure I can take any more. He fucks me, and the knowledge of just how much of his hand is in me, how much of him I’m taking sends me to the edge.
I’m still telling him yes, and suddenly everything changes. He twists his hand, and my entire world goes white. I scream, I know I do. I can hear it somewhere through the bliss I’m floating in. My orgasm doesn’t come just once. He continues to fuck me and I come twice, splashing over his hand and running down my legs. I don’t know that I have a body anymore. Everything is pleasure and I never want it to end.
I think my eyes are closed. Why are they closed? I open them and see snow. I come back to myself in pieces. I’m in the tree fort, with Trevor. He has his hand inside me. I had the best orgasm of my life. I can feel my clothes are back in place, underwear soaking wet. I’m lying in Trevor’s lap, and he’s looking at me with a kind of awe. “I would have carried you inside,” he says, “but we promised Brad we wouldn’t fall, and I didn’t think I could guarantee your safety down the ladder.”
“That’s sweet of you,” I say, still dazed, still not quite present.
He runs a hand through my hair. “You, Stella, are fucking perfect.”
“I’m not.”
“What I just saw was nothing short of perfect. Nothing.”
I blush, look away. He runs his hand through my hair again. I don’t want to admit how nice those words are to hear, how they fill a space in me I didn’t really know was empty. I wasn’t looking for this kind of feeling. But I know one thing—I can make him feel just as good.
“I bet I can make you scream just as loud,” I say.
“Later,” he says. He sees my face fall, and smiles at me. “If you think I don’t want to, you’re crazy. But if you think I didn’t enjoy the hell out of what just happened, you’re crazier.” Slowly, he helps me to my feet.
My legs still feel like jelly, and I have a sense they might for a while. Not all of it entirely from the orgasms.
10
Saturday comes, and I turn the tables on Trevor. I wake up before him, and I see the opportunity for payback. He’s woken up before me every morning, and it’s my turn.
Moving slowly, I crawl under the blankets covering the two of us. Even in the dark, it’s not hard to find his cock, already hard with his morning erection. I take him in my hand, stroking softly, and I feel his body stir. He’s not awake yet, but he will be. Placing my lips on the tip of his cock, I suck him in slowly. I feel it as he comes awake, his cock already deep in my mouth. He pushes the blankets off, staring at me. I choose that moment to pull back, running my teeth along his length, and I’m treated to a sleepy moan.
I take my time with him, teasing him with my tongue. I make a point of covering every bit of him with my tongue—down to the very base of his cock—before sucking him down again. His breath comes in short little gasps, and I feel his muscles tense. With a sigh, he comes in my mouth, shuddering, still half-awake.
But two can play at his game. I haven’t forgotten the tree house, and I don’t waste any time licking him back to hardness. He bragged about his stamina, and I’m going to take advantage of it. This time there is no teasing. I seal my mouth on him and take him as far as I can go, holding my breath, pressing down and working him into my throat. Trevor is cursing, and I see his fingers grasping at the sheets. I drag my mouth back, taking a breath before taking him again. I swallow him, tightening and releasing. I flick my tongue along the underside of him, and he stiffens.
When he comes again, he’s looking right at me. I open my mouth to him, letting him come, showing it to him before I swallow it all.
I’m debating trying to make him come a third time when he catches me by the arms, hauling me up to him. “You’re going to kill me if you do that again,” he says, voice scratchy with pleasure and morning.
“But at least you’d die happy,” I say, smiling.
He leans over me, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. “Yes, I would.” His lips continue to tease my neck and chest, and I relax into the feeling of laying skin-to-skin with him.
“I wish we were alone,” I say.
He murmurs his words against my skin. “We are alone.”
“I mean today, alone in the house. We could stay in bed and I could take further advantage of that stamina you keep talking about.”
A kiss on my lips. “That sounds like the perfect day.”
I sigh, “I should get up and start on the turkey.”
Trevor wraps his arms around me. “Not yet.”
“Do you want to eat today?” I say, trying to wiggle out of his arms.
“Of course I do.”
I laugh, “Then let me go.”
A sly grin moves across his face. “You didn’t ask me what I wanted to eat.”
He dives down the bed, grabbing my legs and pressing them towards my chest. I’m totally open for him, still naked from the night before. He kisses my thighs, slowly working his way inward with light touches, never more than a brush of skin. He circles, getting closer, his kisses and licks more deliberate, avoiding where I want him to touch until I’m crazy for it. I’m seconds away from trying to force him to touch me when his mouth connects with my clit.
“Oh god.” It comes out of my mouth like a prayer, and I wonder if I would ever get tired of the way he makes me feel. I don’t think so.
He works me with his tongue, relentlessly bringing me to the edge. He seals his mouth over me, sucking deep, and my orgasm shatters open. It’s bright and fierce and wild and for a few moments I’m soaring over myself.
When I come back, breathless, Trevor’s grinning at me. “Now you can go make the turkey.”
I can’t remember the time I’ve actually put this much thought into my clothes. I like to look good, professional for my job, but I’ve never dressed knowing someone would be looking. I know Trevor will be looking. So after I put the turkey in the marinade and take a shower, I dig through my closet for something that’s going to make me feel sexy. Appropriate but sexy.
I finally find something, a deep blue sweater that’s been hiding in the back of my closet. I generally avoid wearing it because it clings to my skin and I don’t want the attent
ion. I want that attention today. I pair the sweater with soft gray pants, and I feel good. Pretty.
The doorbell rings, and I hear Brad answer it. I come into the living room as Maria, Anna, and Richard all come inside.
“Has hell frozen over?” Maria asks loudly.
“What?”
She points at me. “You’re wearing color. Without being forced.”
“It felt like a colorful kind of day.” I give a nervous laugh, heading into the kitchen.
My sisters follow me. “Seriously, Stella,” Anna says, finding a stool, “What’s the occasion.”
I give her a look. “Is it really such a surprise that I chose to wear a sweater that was in my closet?”
Maria unloads a bag of food that she brought with her. “When you choose to wear something that blue? Yeah.”
“Maybe she’s finally found someone she wants to impress,” Anna says.
“Really Anna?” I take the turkey carefully out of the marinade and slip it into its pan as the oven beeps that it’s hot enough. “I just wanted to wear this.”
“Well,” Maria says, “you look good.”
“Thanks.” I shut the oven door and check the time. It’ll be a few hours before it’s ready. It’s a small turkey. I’ve learned that cooking one of the giant ones just usually means a lot of leftovers in my fridge.
“But,” Anna says, “have you met someone?”
I groan, and make sure they see me rolling my eyes. “You two are ridiculous. It’s a sweater. Can we stop with the grand inquisition?”
“That’s not a no,” she says.
“It’s time to open presents,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Let’s get everyone into the living room.”
I have met someone, and that’s great. But it’s frustrating to no end that they think I wasn’t happy before. I was happy. I was fine. I don’t need to be married to feel completed. The boys have transformed the living room so everyone has room to sit. The couch has been pushed back against my bedroom doors, chairs from the dining room brought in so that there’s a giant circle.
I take the armchair that’s been pressed up against the window, and I notice that Trevor takes the space across from me in the circle. It’s the first time he’s seen me dressed today, and I watch his gaze slide slowly down my body and return. He gives me a slow nod and a smile, and a warm glow takes up residence in my stomach, all my annoyance at my sisters disappearing.
