Chapter 7
Celia
Thanksgiving with Aunt Griselda is a whirlwind. She seems to be in heaven, celebrating it with me and my fake fiancé. While we're eating, she points a fork at me.
"Celia dear, where is your engagement ring?"
I'm surprised that this is the first time she's brought it up, but I am prepared with my answer.
"Oh, it's being resized, Aunt Griselda, down at a jeweler in Corvid Valley. I just haven't had the time to go pick it up."
Soren gives me a knowingly wicked smile, which makes me shift in my seat with desire. I wiggle slightly, trying to force myself to focus on my sweet potatoes.
"Oh, well, don't leave it there for too long. You definitely want to show that bling off on your finger," my aunt says, and I stop myself from rolling my eyes. "And also, you two, what did I say last time? PDA does not bother me. You are newly engaged. You should be all over each other."
With that, Soren reaches across the table and places his rough hand against the back of my neck, giving me a light massage.
"This food is amazing," he says, looking at me with his warm brown eyes.
"Thank you, sweetie," I say, my cheeks warming from his touch. I look over at Griselda, who gives us an approving look.
Soren then slides his hand from the back of my neck to my chin, lifting it, and I feel his warm lips press against mine. He tastes of cranberry sauce and wine. When he pulls away, I realize I was holding my breath the entire time. My body is sizzling, and I feel exposed.
Later, when the three of us are cleaning up, Soren scoops me into his arms when Aunt Griselda is watching, and places another kiss on my mouth.
"You two are so in love. It's obvious," my aunt says knowingly.
"I'm going to do the dishes. You go relax with your aunt in the living room by the fire," Soren says when we separate.
"Are you sure?" I say, my hand on his chest, and I feel an unwillingness to remove it.
"Yes. Definitely. I'll clean up," he says, and gives me a wink that makes me want to throw him to the floor and ride him right here in this kitchen.
Following my aunt into the living room, I realize I am starting to experience actual feelings for Soren. I wonder how he feels about me. He's played his part beautifully, but he is also just a sweet man under his grumpy exterior.
The next morning, we help my aunt pack up her car before she gives us each a hug.
"That was a wonderful Thanksgiving, Celia. So wonderful that I'm coming for Christmas too," she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek before sliding into her driver's seat and rolling down the driveway.
When she disappears from sight, I blurt out, "I think she bought it."
I turn to Soren, whose eyebrows furrow, and he gives me a gruff nod.
"Well, I'll go get my stuff and head on out," he says curtly, turning as he walks back into the house.
When I enter the cabin, I see him coming down the stairs with his suitcase in hand.
"Thanks, Soren," I say, confused. "I guess we'll talk later?"
The mountain man grunts something that sounds like a yes, and within seconds, he leaves my cabin.
Standing in the hallway, I think about what just happened and feel embarrassed because I was starting to believe that he was forming feelings for me too. But this gruff, grumpy response distresses me. Trouble comes sauntering out of the living room, and I pick him up in my arms.
"I honestly thought maybe he was starting to like me," I say, burying my face into the cat's soft fur. "But if that were true, then why is he being such a freaking grump?"
All morning, I can't shake the worried feeling, and I feel upset about Soren's weird one-eighty attitude. I go out for a jog to try to shake the tenseness away. But even after a couple of miles, when I return, I still feel stressed.
After a quick shower, I dig out my trusty pink vibrator and flop down on the bed naked.
Turning it on, I let it do its magic on my clit, pinching my nipple with the other hand and fantasizing that Soren is standing above me dressed in his flannel shirt and jeans like he was every day when working in my house.
I continue to play with myself as I watch him unbuckle his pants and slide out his ready cock, stroking it while he watches me.
In my fantasy, he takes his firm hands and presses my thighs open, leaning down and sliding his thickness into me, stretching my pussy as he enters.
I grab his ass, helping him thrust into me, my tits bouncing underneath him.
The idea of this sends me careening over a cliff, and my body violently shatters when I come.
Thoughts of Soren continue to prick at my mind, but my body has finally released the tension I've been carrying around all day.
When I wake up in the morning, I send a quick text to the mountain man, still worried that I somehow offended him or angered him. I putter around the house until my Christmas tree delivery comes after lunch. I decide to let it warm in the house and decorate it tomorrow.
Walking back to the living room, I'm disappointed to see that Soren has yet to respond to my morning text.