First Christmas
Jess
“Isn’t it just the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” I stare up at the massive tree, the lights sparkling, the ginormous shiny ornaments reflecting back the scene of holiday perfection that surrounds us. When Nick doesn’t immediately answer with an awed affirmative, I turn my head, excited to watch him take in the magic.
“It’s…very big?” His gorgeous hazel eyes dart from me to the tree and back again. “Still the biggest tree I’ve ever seen.”
“And you love it, right? You can’t imagine a more perfect expression of the wonder of Christmas?” I poke at him, and even though we haven’t been together long, I already know that this is our love language. I want to see how far I can push him, this little Grinch of mine.
Nick has been valiantly pretending to be as into Christmas as I am—which, to be fair, is more than most people—but the man is lacking in skills when it comes to acting.
Luckily, he is very much not lacking in other skills, which is why I’m going to let his nonexistent love for my favorite time of the year slide.
“It’s very pretty,” Nick concedes. He squints up at the tree again as if he might be missing something.
I wiggle my way into his embrace, resting my head on his hard chest. He’s the perfect height for me, tall enough to snuggle into, not too tall that I can’t reach up and plant a kiss on him whenever I want. Which I do, right at that moment. “It’s okay if you don’t love Christmas, you know.”
“Oh thank god.” His arms come around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. “I’ve been trying really hard, and I swear, I want to care about the holidays because I know how much they mean to you, but I just don’t think I have it in me.”
“Hey.” I tilt my head back. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I could tell from the beginning that you weren’t really into all this Christmas stuff.”
He glares at me. “And you let me keep up the illusion for two months?”
I grin wickedly.
Christmas season begins on November 1, and for the past almost-two months, I’ve dragged Nick to every holiday-themed event or location I could think of. And this is New York, so there are plenty. We’ve been ice-skating at Central Park, Bryant Park, and Rockefeller Center, where we currently stand, looking up at the tree. We visited Santa at Macy’s and shopped for toys at FAO Schwarz and drank frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity. We saw the Rockettes and had dinner at Rolf’s. We’re basically living our own holiday rom-com, which is fitting, seeing as how we’re romance writers.
I’d never met a straight male romance writer before, and certainly not one as gorgeous as Nick, so I assumed he was interested in more of a working relationship with me, that someone as gorgeous and talented as he is would want to keep things platonic. We became critique partners and friends, and all the while I was harboring a desperate crush on him. Which he apparently returned, given the blazing hot kiss he planted on me just a couple of months ago. We’ve been together ever since, and while we’re definitely still early enough to be considered honeymoon stage, I can’t help but hope that this honeymoon stage might last.
“Come on.” I lace my fingers with his and tug him away from the crowds. “Let’s go back to my place and I’ll make it up to you.”
“You better have something good in mind, Carrington. My knee still hurts from all the ice-skating.”
I shoot him a wicked smile. “Trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.”
It’s Christmas Eve and the tree is surrounded by people so we have to fight our way through the crowds, but Nick never once drops my hand, not until we’ve made it back to the apartment I share with two other girls, both of whom have, luckily, gone home for the holidays.
When Nick told me he had no plans to return to Ohio for Christmas, I encouraged my parents to take the European cruise of their dreams, leaving me to spend the alone time with Nick I crave.
As soon as the door closes behind him, I press him against it, shoving his jacket off while he wrestles with mine, our mouths coming together in the desperate, wild kisses of new love. We eventually part on a laugh, realizing it will be much easier to remove our coats if our arms aren’t tangled up in each other.
Once my puffy jacket and scarf and gloves have been tossed into a heap on the floor, I work on freeing Nick from his clothes. He tugs his sweater over his head and crashes his lips down on mine, hot and demanding, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and my hands exploring the now-bare expanse of his chest and stomach.
The man is unfairly ripped for a guy who spends most of his day sitting in front of a computer.
His hands slip under the fabric of my long-sleeved T-shirt, skimming over my belly and around my back. We part for a breathless second so he can pull the shirt over my head. His eyes darken as they take in the red lace bra I wore especially for the occasion. His thumbs sweep over my nipples, already peaked and aching for his touch.
He leans down, sucking one bud into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the lace and bringing me just the barest hint of contact.
I moan, stumbling into him, our hips pressing together. He’s hard, so hard, and I palm him through the denim of his jeans. He thrusts into my hand as his mouth continues to work, dampening the lace of my bra and driving me to the brink of madness.
I fumble with the button of his pants, but he doesn’t stop his assault to help me. I finally get him free, my hand wrapping around the length of him before I drop to my knees.
“What are you doing?” His voice is guttural.
Instead of answering, I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip before running it up the underside of his cock.
He groans, his head falling back against the door, his hand lacing into my hair. He doesn’t push or pull, but his hold tightens when I swirl my tongue around the tip, gripping tighter still when I take him in my mouth.
“Jess, holy fuck.” His hips start to move, like he can’t control himself, and the thought that I could bring him to this place of abandon with just a few sucks is heady.
I increase my pace. I know him well enough to know he’s about to come, and I’m ready to taste him. But he pulls away before he loses it, hoisting me up and bringing me in for a kiss that knocks the wind out of me.
No one has ever kissed me like Nick Matthews. It’s the kind of kiss that I’ve always written about, but never truly experienced until I met him.
“My turn,” he growls, backing me down the hallway, his lips nipping at the sensitive spot on my neck, dancing along my collarbone.
I reach behind my back, unhooking my bra and freeing my breasts to press against his bare chest. He’s got just enough hair there to tease me, my nipples still sensitive.
I fall back on the bed and Nick hovers over me, his delicious weight and warmth like the best kind of blanket. Then he removes my jeans and underwear with one swift tug, his eyes tracing over the curves of my body.
He swallows thickly. “You’re so gorgeous, Jess.”
I fight the urge to deflect the compliment, instead reaching for his hand, pulling him down on top of me once again, our naked limbs intertwining.
Nick’s kisses turn slow and sultry, and they’re somehow even hotter than the frantic ones from before. He takes his time moving down to the curve of my shoulder, the swell of my breasts. He pays such attention to them, his tongue licking and swirling until I’m writhing underneath him and I can feel the orgasm building already.
His hand skirts down the bare expanse of my belly, stroking with the lightest of touches, everywhere except for where I need him. When his fingers dance over my hip bone, I gasp, my hips rising.
He grins at me, and it’s wicked. “You love this spot.” He leans down to run his tongue along the crease, and the moan that escapes me is unholy.
“You know I do.”
Finally, he drags a single finger up the center of me. “You’re so wet, Jess. God, I can barely stand it.”
I don’t even have time to think before he’s pushed my thighs apart and settled in between them. His tongue finds my clit as he slides two fingers inside me, and my hips buck against his face. His forearm presses down on my pelvis, keeping me at his mercy as his tongue flicks before he sucks with just the right amount of pressure. I come apart underneath him, and his mouth rides me through the wave, his strokes softening as I come down.
A minute later his mouth finds mine again, and I taste myself on his lips as he presses into me, slowly at first and then deep on one quick thrust. We just stopped using condoms a couple of weeks ago, after the all-important birth control and STI conversation, and I’m still relishing this new feeling of nothing between us.
Nick presses his forehead to mine, his breaths uneven and choppy. “How is it always so fucking good with you, Jess? I swear, it’s like your body was made ’specially for mine.”
My hands skate down over the muscles of his back, landing on the curves of his ass. I rock against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. “I was made for you. I love you so much.”
I freeze for half a second. Make that a full ten seconds. I can’t believe I just said that. We haven’t exchanged the L word yet and ohmygod I just blurted it out during sex like a total idiot.
Nick freezes too, and there goes any hope that he didn’t actually hear me.
I close my eyes, too embarrassed to look at him. “Shit.”
But then his hand cups my cheek. “Hey. Look at me, Jess.”
I open my eyes, but I don’t meet his gaze until his hand slips down to my chin, grasping it gently but firmly and forcing me to make eye contact.
“I love you too.” He smiles, and the light-green ring around his pupils brightens.
“You don’t have to say that just because I did. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that, not when—”
“Not when I’m this deep inside of you?” He grins, shifting his hips, pressing deeper.
I can’t hold back a gasp. “It’s just…it’s okay if you…it’s early and I would understand…” I try to get a complete thought out, but Nick’s hips continue to roll. His hand slips between us, his thumb stroking my clit, and suddenly I can’t see straight, let alone form a complete sentence.
“Come for me.”
I have no choice but to obey. I tighten around him as the orgasm breaks, rolling through me, wave after wave until Nick buries his face in the crook of my neck, shuddering out his own release. I hold him to me, not wanting it to end. My breaths are shaky, my skin covered in goose bumps.
“Holy shit.”
He laughs, his breath tickling my neck. “That about sums it up.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, threading my hands through the locks of his hair. “I’ve never come that hard before,” I tell him honestly.
He puts enough space between us so he can look me in the eye. “Neither have I. But then again, I’ve never been with someone I loved before either.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I really didn’t mean to blurt that out, you know.”
He presses a soft kiss on my lips. “I know. But I’m glad you did.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. I know it hasn’t been all that long, but I’m madly in love with you, Jessica Carrington.”
“Madly, huh? That’s a big word.” I pinch his butt cheek because I’m a child.
He reaches around, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together. He brings our joined hands over my head, trapping me in place. “I thought I was supposed to be the one who sucked at talking about my feelings.”
I know he’s joking, but I also can see the hints of trepidation in his eyes. “I’m madly in love with you too.”
He grins and swoops down with another searing kiss.
“Best Christmas ever?” I ask when our lips part and our eyes meet.
“Best Christmas ever,” he agrees.