Page 11 of A Holiday Lift
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Ilove this woman. This crazy, exciting, maddening woman who came into my life, obliterating everything around her.
I carry her into our room, lying her on the bed like the goddess she is. Some days, I look at her and wonder what god I made happy enough for me to cross paths with her. Two years with her has taught me so much about love and life.
Holly is in a pair of leggings and a large green sweater than hangs off her shoulder, and she’s never looked more beautiful. “You said something about clothes,” I remind her as I start to unbutton my dress shirt.
She sits up, pulling her top off, showing a white lacy bra thing that hooks around her neck. The person who invented lace was a fucking genius. I stand here, hand suspended on a button, forgetting how to move.
“You’re gorgeous.”
“You’re still dressed.” Holly stands, her fingers finishing what mine can’t. Each tug on my shirt does something to my heart. We never should’ve been, but fate stepped in and gave us a second chance.
One that I’ve vowed not to squander. There is no doubt in my mind that Holly is the answer to every prayer I’ve spoken. She’s the other half to my soul, and I want to spend the rest of my life making her as happy as she’s made me.
This Christmas is one she’ll never forget.
I push her hair back off her face, thumb grazing her cheek. “How the hell did I ever catch you?”
She smiles. “I wonder the same thing. If that storm didn’t happen, would we have each other?”
“I’d like to think so.”
Holly rises up so her nose grazes mine. “I think we were meant to be.”
I palm her breast and bring my lips to her neck. It doesn’t matter that we’ve done this countless times. Each time with her is special.
She pushes my shirt off, her hands moving up my chest. “I love you.”
“I love you,” I reassure her. “So fucking much.”
We move at the same time, fusing our lips together, giving ourselves over to the desire that pulses between us. I slide her leggings down, and she kicks them off before unbuttoning my pants.
As I watch her lie back on the bed, I take a second to appreciate what I’m lucky enough to have. I promised her that I would make her love Christmas again, and I’ve worked hard to give her happiness every day of the year, but this Christmas, I’m going all out.
I kiss down her neck and then her chest, sucking on her nipple the way she likes. Her fingers grip my hair as I go lower. I push her legs open, grazing the skin on her inner thigh.
“Dean,” she moans.
My tongue darts out, just barely touching her clit, and she tightens her grip on my hair, pulling me where she wants me.
I lick, suck, and savor every sound that escapes her lips. Holly lifts her hips, and I start to fuck her with my mouth, bringing her closer and closer. I reach down and wrap my hand around my cock, moving in time with my tongue.
Holly explodes, her cries filling the room and then she’s clawing at me to get near her.
“Please, Dean, I need you,” she begs.
I love her voice, how needy she is for me. I climb up, lining myself right where I want to be. Our gazes meet, and there’s desire swimming in her brown eyes, but there is also love. So much love that if I were standing, I’d knock me to my knees.
The words that I want to say hover on my lips, but I have a plan and that doesn’t include my saying it before making love to her.
Her hands cup my face as she studies me. “What is it?”
“You.”
“I feel the same way.”
She parts her legs a little more and shifts, urging me to enter her. “You’re mine, Holly.”
