Page 81 of If You Give a Grump a Christmas Tree Farm
“I suppose.”
“I get you like to plan, and that’s great, but sometimes the best things in life happen when you don’t plan them. Like tonight. This is something we’ll all remember for years.”
I grin, knowing I’ll always remember this night.
“Hey, Hammer, quit hitting on my woman,” JJ calls out.
Hammer dips his head and whispers in my ear. “Hear that? He called you his woman. I’ve never heard JJ call any chick his woman before.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
JJ—
I’ve been leaving Rebecca little Secret Santa gifts for the last couple of weeks.
Knowing how much she wanted to travel the world, I found her a tiny silver Eiffel Tower ornament for the second gift.
When I saw her curl up by the fire one night with a ball of yarn and knitting needles, I went to the craft store in town and got her a basket filled with yarns of different colors for the third gift.
For the fourth, I left her some expensive Christmas ribbon for wreath making.
And when we were in one of the shops in town, she picked up a small figurine of a little mouse by some artist and told the shopkeeper she collected them, so I went back and got her one.
Last night, I stuck it on the counter next to the plate of muffins she’d made.
I’m leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping my coffee when she shuffles out of bed in nothing but my faded denim shirt. When I see there’s only one pearl snap fastened, all I can think about is grabbing her by the waist and lifting her ass up onto the counter, then ripping that shirt open to find her luscious breasts bare underneath.
She stops when she sees the little mouse, and her eyes flick to me.
I watch them fill with a shimmering sheen, then she walks to me and hugs me, resting her head on my chest.
“Thank you.”
Setting my coffee aside, I lift her to the counter and do what I imagined, popping that snap to reveal heaven. “How ‘bout you thank me proper?”
She giggles, and I take one beautiful bare breast in my big palm and squeeze, then guide her taut, eager nipple to my lips.
She moans at the first touch of my wet mouth. When I suck hard, her back arches and her head tilts.
“Oh, yes.”
She thrusts her chest toward me, urging me on. I lift my head and gaze at her panties. Sliding one palm along her quivering belly, I dip my fingers under the elastic edge to cup her hot, wet pussy. A second later, I slip one finger inside her, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
My thumb swirls in a circle until her clit is revealed, and then I give it all my attention.
She strokes my shoulders and threads her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. She pulls my attention from watching myself play with her pussy, and my eyes lock with hers.
I give her a kiss, but I will not be deterred from that prize between her thighs. Slowly, I peel her panties off and toss them aside.
“Can’t tell you how many nights I’ve lain in bed, thinking about you and imagining what that sweet pussy would taste like.”
At my words, her breathing shallows and her skin flushes.
I dip my head for a sweet lick with my tongue, my beard skating along her inner thighs, and she shivers. Dropping to my knees, I settle in for a good long stay between her legs, licking and sucking and lapping her until she’s writhing against me and dripping wet.
Locking eyes with half-lidded ones, I see the heat reflected back at me. “I could stay right here all day, baby. Watch you come again and again and be content.”
I let my thumb take up where my mouth leaves off, and soon, she’s panting. I love watching it all play across her face. I can see she’s climbing closer and closer to the summit.
