Page 36 of Stocking Stuffers
“Apple cider.”
He smiled. “You got it.”
When he returned, two mugs of hot cider in hand, both garnished with a cinnamon stick and slices of blood orange like something straight out of a Pinterest post, she couldn’t hold in her smile. Damn these people and their Christmas spirit. At least she was getting incredible food out of this nightmare.
Perry settled onto the floor next to her, close enough to the hearth that he could shake the chestnut roaster every few minutes. Everything was so warm—her hands wrapped around a mug of the most magical cider in the history of the world, her toes that were close to the fire, her body wrapped in a chunky blanket. Her cheeks that were full-on blushing as Perry scooted closer to her.
Oh, geez.They were cuddling in front of a fireplace while chestnuts roasted over an open flame, sizzling and popping and sending sweet nutty smells through the room. The whole scene was picture perfect. She wanted to lean back into his body but couldn’t allow herself that type of pleasure. It was ephemeral. It wouldn’t last. She wouldn’t let it.
Perry got up on his knees to shake the chestnut roaster again, and she checked him out. He was still in gray sweats and a soft, flannel shirt. The sweatpants framed his firm, round butt. She wanted to smack it.
The thought made her laugh and a different kind of warmth bubble up in her. He settled back down beside her.
She leaned into him and put her mouth against the shell of his ear. “You have a rocking ass. Has anyone ever told you that?” she whispered.
Rosiness spread over the apples of his cheeks. He shook his head and bit his bottom lip on a grin.
“Your other attributes aren’t half bad either.”
“Good to know,” he whispered back. “Your butt is pretty spectacular too. I want to do all kinds of things to it.”
She felt as if they were in their own world. Everyone else was chattering away, leaving them alone.
It was easier to flirt and talk about sex than emotions. Easier to let herself get carried away with Perry’s unbearable sexiness than to confront the fact that he made her heart clench and stutter for a million reasons that had nothing to do with fucking.
“I’d let you,” she said.
“Would you now?”
“I think I’ve proven I am totally down, Perry.”
He bumped his shoulder against hers. “And what else do you have in that Santa’s big red bag of debauchery? Anything that might prove helpful?”
“Ho, ho, ho.” She winked.
He laughed loudly, genuine joy etched in every line of his face. His laughter drew glances from a few people around the room.
Sasha took a hasty sip of cider to hide her own delight. She let happiness rush through her. One more night of this.
She’d allow herself one more night of this.
Soon, the chestnuts were done and Perry pulled them off the fire. Valerie passed him two bowls, and after letting them cool, he started peeling them, discarding the shells and skin into one bowl and the meaty nut into another that was full of cinnamon sugar. Perry and Valerie moved around each other through this process seamlessly.
Perry parceled some of the treat into a little bowl for him and Sasha.
He lifted up the bowl. “Okay, Sasha. You ready to try these nuts?”
Chapter Seven
Sasha fell back onto Perry’s bed, her stomach full of laughter. Perry kneeled next to her and popped a chestnut past her lips. She nipped his fingers lightly, then chewed the sweet nut.
She’d never had chestnuts before, and she had no idea if they were always so amazing or if it was because Perry was feeding them to her.
He followed his fingers with his lips, kissing her mouth, her chin, down to her throat before sitting up and eating a chestnut of his own.
They’d managed to socialize with the other Winterberry guests for about twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of feverish, festive eye-fucking. Now, they finished their bowl of chestnuts, sharing kisses and laughter over nothing at all.
Perry’s room was similar to hers, except it was on the corner of the house, so it had double the windows. His canopy bed had rainbow-colored Christmas lights wrapped around the posts. The Christmas tree in the corner of his room was huge with thick branches full of spindly needles. His whole room smelled of clean, bitter evergreen, and his skin smelled like smoky cedar.
