Page 70 of Holding Out For A Holiday Hero

And I want them to love Christmas as much as their mother does.

“Jake?” True poked her head out of the bathroom. “You didn’t say you were ready.”

“Trust me, sweets, I can’t get more ready for you.”

She flashed her mega-watt smile at him. The one he felt driving right into his heart. Then she opened the bathroom door fully and stepped out to give him his present.

I was wrong. I can be more ready. Because he’d just leapt out of the bed and rushed for her.

True laughed as he lifted her into his arms. She wore the smallest, skimpiest bit of nothing panties he’d ever seen in his life. That—and a Santa hat. His dick could not wait to drive inside of her.

“The underwear is edible,” she revealed as she brushed a kiss over his neck. “Want to guess what flavor?”

“I have not been good enough for this.” No way.

“Strawberry.” She lightly licked him.

Yeah, he was done.

He took her back to the bed. Lowered her onto the mattress and helped her get rid of the underwear. He shoved her legs apart and his mouth feasted on her. Licking and stroking. Kissing. Devouring.

“Jake!”

He freaking loved it when she screamed for him. He didn’t stop with her first orgasm, though. After all, he did love strawberries.

And he loved eating her right up.

She twisted and heaved, and he enjoyed his favorite treat in the entire world and when neither of them could stand it for another moment, he sheathed his dick in a condom and drove straight into her straining core.

She clamped around him. Her nails sank into his arms.

He withdrew.

She arched against him and slammed up to meet him as he thrust back into her. Somewhere in the condo, Christmas music played.

He didn’t care about the music.

Didn’t care about anything but barreling toward the insane release that he knew waited for him. With the taste of True and strawberries on his tongue, he drove relentlessly toward his climax.

She came again for him, and the ripple of her inner muscles sent him over the edge. He erupted into her, and the orgasm was so powerful that he felt it in every cell of his body. It rocked through him. Consumed him. Pleasure swept them both away.

Merry Christmas to us.

Slowly, his lashes lifted. He stared down at True. Her breathing rushed out, red stained her cheeks, but she was smiling at him.

True Blakely. In his bed.

His.

Her smile flickered. “I’ve been meaning to ask…did you really carry an old picture of me around?”

He was still balls deep in her. “Sweets, I’ve carried you in my mind since you were sixteen years old.” But, yeah, he’d carried an actual picture, too. One he’d cut out of the yearbook. A reminder to him that there were good things in the world. Good people. No matter how dark things had seemed…how dangerous the battles had become…

Good people were out there.

People worth protecting. People worth fighting for.

Her hand rose and pressed to his cheek. “Tomorrow is Christmas Day.”

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