Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

44. Jay

Chapter forty-four

Jay

J ay hunched his shoulders and ducked his head against the wind as he rounded the last corner, swinging the bike wide since their street was one-way and the traffic was light. He’d picked up seventeen routes today, and his legs yowled for a hot shower.

The glow down the block—that was their front window. He for sure hadn’t left the tree lights plugged in. They didn’t have a timer. Coming home to them was damn cheery, though. He should get—

Alice.

Alice had made it home.

His legs blasted out a fresh burst of speed. Nearly overshot the front door, and only a wild swerve saved him from the strange minivan parked out front. Holiday guests at the neighbor’s, probably. He leaped off the seat and rolled the bike up to the door. His hand couldn’t scoop the keys from his pocket. Two tries, three, and finally success. Cars and pockets and doors, freaking obstacles between him and his wife.

“Alice?” He shouted for her. The wall hooks held her winter coat like a prize. He unloaded the panniers, knocked them flat, and popped the front wheel of the bike up. Lifted it into the rack, hands shaking as he swiveled it against the wall. “Alice?”

“I’m here, stud.” A goddess with the tree lights glowing behind her in a fairy-tale halo, Alice stepped out of the living room and right into him, burying her face in his neck and wrapping her arms around him.

He swung the bags in his left hand clear and sank into her, fitting as close as he could, stumbling them a couple of steps forward. They didn’t usually do hugs right after work, not until he’d showered off the sweat and city grit. But she wasn’t letting go, and if she wasn’t complaining, he sure as fuck wasn’t. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. So much.” She patted the arm he wasn’t hugging with, her hand traveling down his bicep to his forearm, and tipped her head back. Those eyes, Jesus. Video from a thousand-something miles away couldn’t compare to her face inches from his. “What are you holding?”

“Oh!” He thrust his arm upward, spinning the bag to show the logo. An extra stop on the way home, but since he didn’t know when she’d be getting in and if she’d eaten— “I got us takeout.”

Her smile filled up her cheeks. She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “I got us takeout.”

He squinted past her. A bag with the same logo sat on the counter. Uncertainty teetered with a laugh in his gut. “I, uh, hope you’re hungry?”

“Oh, I am.” She drew him in, curling her hand around the back of his neck. Her tongue swipes teased his mouth, and when he whimpered for more, she powered past his lips and drove firm strokes along his tongue that had his dick bumping his shorts. “And two meals is perfect, because we’re about to work up an appetite.”

A tsunami of fire blazed through him.

Backing up, Alice hooked two fingers into his shirt collar. He slipped into an inspection posture on autopilot. The room faded into hazy unimportance. Only Alice mattered. Only what his mistress wanted of him.

She licked the center of her top lip, a tiny pink tongue tip at the point of the curve Henry called Cupid’s bow. “Don’t you have a post-work shower to take?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Sparks crackled in his head, flying up from the fiery wave. Alice had plans for him.

“Good man.” She tugged him forward, backing as he followed. “Put that food in the kitchen so you can come upstairs with me.”

She freed him, but he chased her hand, pressing it flat against his chest beneath his. He’d forgotten the feel of her fingers. If he could just make an imprint to stay on his skin, to mark him as hers. Every tight muscle in his body had loosened up except the one eager for her to need it. Alice was home, and he was hers. His throat closed up, choking on the relief. He shook his head, not trying to deny her, but struggling to push out the words. “Thank you, Alice.”

The bear hug reclaimed him. She rubbed his back, her hands magic knot-removers. “Hey, hey, you earned it, stud. This was an incredibly tough week. I see all the good work you’ve been doing. You are the heart of our home. I felt your love when I walked in the door.”

His heart had been missing for days, but now it beat like crazy. “I feel it too. Yours, I mean.”

“Good.” She whispered her approval right in his ear, alerting his whole body in the mix of relaxation and readiness where subby comfort lived. “Food down, stud. I want to show you more of my love before we eat, unless you’re too starving to enjoy it.”

Starving more for the love than the calories. He hustled to the kitchen and back, ditching his shoes by the bench. She’d started up the steps, her ass swaying in the hypnotic way of women. She didn’t need to entice him; his dick was ready to bust out of his shorts and serve her. But he couldn’t stop looking, and her soft laugh when she glanced over her shoulder at him said she didn’t mind. Maybe she wasn’t swaying for him. Maybe she just liked the feeling too.

She laid her arm full-length along the bedroom door and pushed it farther open, her fingers spread, her body long and lean and powerful. He kept clear of her feet, pacing his steps to hers, behind her right shoulder, trailing her the way he’d trailed Henry at the club in those first training weeks. Always nearby, never intrusive, ready and willing to serve. His dick throbbed, unhappy with the compression shorts, aching for the freedom to move. Preferably closer to Alice.

Duffel bags sat unzipped on the bed, piled high with clothes. They were going. Tonight. She’d made her promise come true, made his dreams come true. They would all spend the night together again, finally. Shivers rippled up and down his back.

She passed the bags and steered him into the bathroom, flicking the lights on. They’d had the best weekend here before the separation. The mirrors, fuck, Henry had made his dreams come true, too, taking Jay’s suggestion and turning it into an amazing play night together. Remembering the good was so much easier when he had his dominants with him. Left alone, his brain twisted the handlebars and sent him down darker paths.

Spinning around, Alice parked herself in front of him. He froze in place, his heart pumping so hard it kept going and rubberbanded back with a thumpity-thump in his chest.

She ticked the zipper down on his outer shell, the wind guard layer. “The tree is magnificent, Jay. You’ve been caring for it every day, I bet.”

That wasn’t a question, but he mm-hmm ed agreement. Sweeping her hands back up his abs and chest, she worked her fingers under the jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, trapping his arms. A jolt of hunger jerked his dick. He had cuffs now, in the playroom. Henry must’ve known he was ready for them. Ready to be restrained, ready for his lovers to use him. The way Henry had leashed him to Alice and watched them fuck for his pleasure. Next time maybe Jay would be the one on the bottom.

“You did the laundry last night after our call, didn’t you?” Alice didn’t say that like a question, either, finally dragging the sleeves down his arms and letting the jacket hit the tile behind him. “Such a smart choice, getting the house ready for us to leave it neat and tidy.”

His chest got bigger. From her praise; every piece he swallowed and stored behind his ribs, plenty protected and spreading and growing through him. From her petting; she peeled off his second layer, the fleece-lined vest so his arms had room to move and his body stayed warm—but not as warm as her touch made him.

The base layer came off last, over his head. Alice lingered on him, her hands everywhere at once. Fingers scratching through what little chest hair he had. Palms circling across his nipples. Finger and thumb pinching gently down his sides, tugging his muscles, giving his breathing a rhythmic hitch like the tick of gears shifting.

“I saw your gifts.” Her voice dipped low and foggy as her fingers slid under his leggings. She cupped his hips, his ass. The fabric stretched and rolled down as she moved. It snugged just under his ass. “Henry must be aching to put them on you. And you deserve them, stud.”

She palmed his dick through the shorts. He strained toward her, hissing through his teeth. Fuck, what if he couldn’t—

“You can come now,” she whispered, squeezing her hand inside and gripping him. “We’ll get there again before we’re done.”

Three strokes set him off, left him blinking through spots in his vision, the overhead lights dazzling. Five days since he’d had any hand on his dick but his own. And she knew him, knew what he needed, knew the pressure and the speed and—

His chest heaved; he sucked in deeper breaths to get his brain back. “Thank you, Mistress.”

She sent a sly smile up at him as she pushed his gear the rest of the way off, crouching at his feet, disentangling the socks, making him stand on one foot. Like he still had balance after that explosion. She took his hand to pull herself back up, and he regained his balance in a hurry.

Thrusting her breasts into his chest, she rocked against him. “It’s pretty gratifying, you know. How excited you get for my touch.” She winked at him, full-on winked, and joy zipped around inside him like the birds in spring, feasting on all the fresh treats after a harsh winter. “I think you’ll like this next part. Start the shower, Jay.”

Her fingers went to the buttons on her shirt. She took forever sliding each one loose. The water warmed before her shirt hit the floor. She wriggled out of her pants, bending all the way over and flashing her panty-covered ass at him as she plucked her socks from her feet and left her clothes heaped on his. She was wearing the peach set today, the bra and panty combo from the first gifts Henry had gotten her.

She walked straight into the shower and under the water. The thin fabric clung and disappeared, outlining her breasts. Their darker centers sloped into the hard points of her nipples. Dessert candies on a tray. Maybe if he was very good.

“Let’s get you wet.” Guiding him into the spray, she snatched up Henry’s bar soap. Eyes on his, she scrubbed the bar between her hands, every inch the evil mastermind dreaming up devious plans for him—except her giddy Alice smile. She couldn’t hide behind dominant-neutral. Still kept him guessing sometimes, but she and Henry had different personalities even when their thoughts rode the same train. “Arms out, please.”

He glided through her commands like steps in a dance. The frothy soap landed like a layer of clouds, fluffy and white, as she washed him clean. Washed away the week of fears and what-ifs. Washed away the doubts and loneliness. Henry’s scent surrounded them both. She praised Jay for not missing therapy, for starting the conversation about the wedding album, for calling her yesterday when he couldn’t take the emptiness anymore.

“You did so well, Jay. I know it maybe doesn’t feel like it. But you did.” She’d soaped every bit of him except the dick stirring for her again. “Me and Henry, we fell down on the job.”

They’d given him so much, though. Time they couldn’t spare, and he kept needing more. He was the one at home, with all the reminders of them around him, while they were alone. “No, but you—”

“Are you going to argue with your mistress, Jay, or are you going to accept her apology?” Hands on his shoulders, she pressed down; he sat on the built-in bench. The tile wasn’t even cold on his ass. They’d created a fog on the glass, rolling gently out into the rest of the bathroom. She held his cheek in her hand, her thumb zigzagging in little patterns. “I’m sorry for not being more consistent. I wish I’d defined our check-ins better so you wouldn’t be waiting and wondering.”

She didn’t owe him apologies. But her breasts were level with his eyes now. He tested the water, bringing his hands up slowly. She said nothing. Clasping her sides, he ran his fingers along the edge of the band.

Her lips quirked even as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, you can take that off me now.”

He one-handed the clasp almost before she stopped talking and peeled the bra away, setting it on the bench. She took his other hand in hers and led him down her stomach and into her underwear, cupping the heat of her. “Take these off too, sweetheart.”

The panties landed beside the bra.

“Wash me, Jay.”

Her whisper could’ve been a shout. He lathered his hands and laid them on her, touching her everywhere she’d touched him. Long, lazy strokes down her arms and between her fingers. Bending to reach her feet, lightly kissing the top of her pussy as she balanced a hand on his back.

“Daring,” she murmured, rolling her fingers into his hair and squeezing. The pull stiffened his cock to full-speed-ahead, ready to serve. “I’ve always said I love your initiative.”

Switching legs, he inhaled her musky Alice-ness and nudged with his nose, the pressure she praised him for when she allowed him to taste her. This angle would be awkward, but if she wanted to swap positions… “I could kneel for you, Mistress.”

“Mmm, you could.” She swirled his hair and lifted his head until their gazes lined up. “But I have something else in mind. Finish your task and I’ll show you.”

He soaped her stomach and hips, hugging her curves tighter than a winding road. Swept his arms around her back, starting at her shoulders and working without seeing, only feeling. Only watching her sway into his hands. Her breasts floated. Drops of water rolled down their slopes and splashed between them. No soap there yet. He dared again, closing his mouth over her nipple and sucking as he stroked her back.

She pulled him closer and held him there, silent permission. “Lower.”

Lower? Like the under-part of her breasts? He tried to draw back to ask.

She denied him, her laugh sweet and comforting. “Your hands, stud. Lower.”

The roundness of her ass rewarded him for following directions. He played with her other breast, rolling her nipple across his tongue, while his soapy hands squeezed and stroked and came damn close to her fiery heat.

“Pause there, please.” She nudged him back. Whatever she saw in his face, she shivered head to toe and grinned at him. Lifting a foot onto the bench, she reached past him toward the shampoo niche in the wall. “I brought something for us to play with.”

She came down with a small purple blob. Not a cock—she thumbed the top, and a low buzz started. A vibe.

Hissing, she palmed the vibe and pressed her hand between her legs. Her body shook, and she pulled her hand away. “Yup, uh-huh, this’ll get us there.”

“I’ll say.” Holy fuck, if she was gonna play with herself in front of him like she’d teased on the phone, he’d pop again in a heartbeat.

She climbed onto the bench and straddled him, rising up on her knees. More than a show. A reconnection. He trembled, waiting. As she gripped the back of his neck with her open hand, he laid his hands on the flare of her hips.

“Perfect. Keep me steady, stud.” Delight sparkled in her eyes, and her tongue peeked out between her lips. “Not sure how wild this ride is gonna be.”

Eleven out of ten, that’s how wild. She hovered above his dick, which jerked toward her about every half-second. The vibe brushed him as she held him still and slipped over the head of his cock.

Just the head.

“Wild.” Gasping, he tensed his whole body, trying to force the energy out anywhere but where it wanted to escape. The low whine, that came from him, the only thing he could do to ease the pressure without ending the game.

She fucked herself with him, riding the top of his dick, creating a wind current around the shaft outside of her and desperate to get in. She slid clutching heat over his ridge again and again.

The muscles in her neck strained. Moans came straight through her clenched teeth. Glints of purple showed through her fingers above his dick; the vibrations mingled with her rippling around him. No way would he fucking last. But fuck, he needed to be deeper, needed more, and not having it was agonizing and wonderful, keeping him hard for her.

Her jaw worked; she shook her head. “Sorry can’t talk.” Even her voice vibrated. “Meant to. So much—good Jay—best—love you.”

She shattered in slow motion, starbursts in her eyes and a sudden wash of heat over his dick, her vise grip at the tip. The vibe fell to the tile, still buzzing, and she dropped into his lap, accepting all of him in one thrust. Welding her hands to the back of his neck, she rode him full depth, impossibly fast, shaking with her climax. “Now, stud. Now, now —”

He came like a rocket. His thrust lifted them both off the bench and drove his shoulders into the wall. His feet stayed steady on the ground, that was a fucking savior, because the rest of him hit orbit and kept going, destined for the edge of the universe. Pretty sure he saw it, the beauty of the big bang, all those glowing stars erupting into being at once.

Alice laid her head on his shoulder. Her moans mixed with giggles. “Happy homecoming.”

He laughed full out, snuggling her to him, arms wrapped all the way around her back. “Did you just make a me joke? Home coming, really?”

Her giggles sang in his ears, and she nodded against him. “Twelve hours, stud. I’m sitting on the damn plane at five in the morning, with my boss’s boss in the seat next to me, and my brain is shouting homecoming, get it? and snorting like a teenager.”

He patted her back. “It was a very good joke.”

Scoffing, she kissed his mouth, slow and loving. “You were an excellent lay. Even if we didn’t do any lying down. And we should finish showering and turn it off before we exhaust the hot water.”

He shuddered. “I remember what a cold shower feels like. Not doing that again.”

“Oh my God, yes.” She carefully lifted off of him and stood under the spray. “You looked so pitiful, sweetheart. And when Henry held out that hot washcloth—”

“Best gift ever.”

After they rinsed off and toweled dry, Alice stuffed a few more bathroom things in pouches for the travel bags. “I asked Henry about clothes, so you just need to pick some pj’s. Your stuff for the drive is on the bed. Do you want to take your wish book? I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t grab it.”

“I’ll get it.” He swiveled around her, taking one last touch before she covered up. “I’m happy you’re home, Alice. Even if there hadn’t been coming. But that was amazing.”

By the time he’d fetched the wish book and dressed and carried the bags downstairs, she was warming up their dinner in the microwave. They ate fast, at the table but without the usual leisure. They had somewhere to be. The minivan out front was Alice’s, sort of—the rental agency had given her what they had, so that was what they were driving to Maine.

She shrugged. “I’ve never driven a minivan, so that’ll be an adventure. You ready to hit the road? I’ll text Henry that we’re leaving.”

“Ready.” Actually—he scooped up the rest of Henry’s calendar envelopes. The three of them had meant to go to Maine tomorrow anyway, and Henry would’ve figured on it when he organized his gifts. He wasn’t so stressed back then, because nothing had gone wrong yet. “I can drive if you want to nap.”

She’d been yawning through dinner. Plus, she’d been up since three in the morning. And he might’ve fucked all of the awakeness out of her. Or she had; she’d been the one moving.

The notch in her forehead showed up for a second, and then she let out a sigh that dropped her shoulders a good foot and a half. Well, maybe not that much. But a lot.

She tossed him the keys. “Thank you, sweetheart. I will gladly accept your offer of service. If you get tired of driving, tell me, and we’ll switch.”

That about summed up Alice. “Well, you are the very best switch I know.”

Laughing, they loaded the car, her handling the doors and him carrying the bags. It had taken a couple of weeks, but things were finally going right again.