Page 19 of The Detective's Secret Santa

“Yes.”

“Are you staying?”

“Do you want me to?”

I look up at him through wet eyelashes. The tears are still falling, but now they’re happy ones. “Yes.”

I cup his cheek and draw him in for a kiss, not caring that Mom’s probably watching us from the kitchen. If she has any issues, she—like everyone else in Alpine Valley—will just have to get used to it. “I love you,” I whisper to him when our lips break apart.

“I love you more, Brook.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m never letting you go. I hope you’re okay with that.”

“If you two are done making out, there’s a feast in the kitchen.” Mom announces. “Why don’t we try eating family dinner again?”

I hug Bash a little tighter, loving how it all sounds. Bash a part of our family? A part of my family? Yes please!

Guess Santa likes the naughty list more than he’s let on.

EPILOGUE

ONE CHRISTMAS LATER…

BROOKLYN

“You ready to go?” Bash calls into our combined home office, poking his head through the doorway.

“Almost.” I finish the last of the coding for my client’s website upgrade and hit save. I remove my blue blocker glasses and set them next to my laptop, still amazed how much my life has changed in a year.

I smile at the framed Die Hard poster hanging on the wall. The one with the caption: Definitely a Christmas movie. Fight me. I found it at the gift shop downtown and knew it was the perfect Secret Santa gift for Bash. Though I may have broken a couple rules when I gave it to him, Wilma didn’t seem to mind. She still waived my rent.

Since last Christmas, Bash took over as the local detective. Filling Dad’s old position. He bought a house, but he let me pick it out. We moved in together right away because why wait to start a scandal in a small town? The diamond on my left hand sparkles under the glow of white Christmas lights I leave strung along the ceiling of our home office year round.

Bash steps into the office, his hands dropping onto my shoulders. His fingers knead into my tight muscles. I’ve been working long hours today so I can take off the rest of the holiday season to spend with my husband. He’s on call, but otherwise, off duty. “Your Mom’s expecting us soon.”

“Better get going, huh?” Apparently, Mom’s decided Bash and I decorating her Christmas tree is a new family tradition. I slip out of my chair, but my husband blocks my exit. I pretend to try to maneuver around him just so I can feign giving up and falling into his arms.

Bash’s hands slide down my back and settle on my ass. I arch my hips against his, unsurprised to find the Hammer of Thor at full strength. It’s a miracle we’re able to leave our clothes on as much as we do. “She won’t mind if we’re a few minutes late.”

He lifts me onto the desk, shoving aside a stack of case files carefully. The top one is ready to be filed away for good. It’s for my old boss in Houston who’s now serving a nice, long sentence for multiple counts of sexual assault.

The file reminds me of Bash’s overprotectiveness, making me instantly wetter.

He peels away my black leggings and pushes up my red skirt—a favorite holiday outfit of his. He kneels between my legs, taking his time savoring my pussy. His tongue slowly maneuvers between my legs. I comb my fingers through his hair as he takes me over the edge with methodical execution.

My body trembles from an intense orgasm as he unzips his jeans and frees his cock. He gently pushes me down until my back is flat on the desk. He lifts my legs, flattening them against him until my ankles dangle on either side of his ears. With hands on my upper thighs, Bash pushes into my wet and ready channel.

I hold onto the edges of the desk, too lost in pleasure to care what’s falling from the surface and crashing to the floor.

“Fuck, I love that skirt,” Bash growl, reaching a hand to my clit.

Another orgasm slams through me and I cry out his name. I don’t know if it’s the white twinkling lights above or stars from another dimension I’m seeing. Only that the wave of pleasure has completely taken over my body. Everything tingles wonderfully.

Bash pummels into me, once, twice, three times. Finally, he buries himself deep inside as he fills me with his seed. We haven’t talked about kids yet, but the thought of him putting a baby in me nearly makes me come a third time.

“Merry Christmas, Brook,” Bash says, cock still buried inside me, his lips turned up into a sexy smile that promises this is only the beginning of our holiday break.

“Merry Christmas, Bash.” I wipe the hair from my forehead, unable and unwilling to hide my sated grin. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

THE END

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