Chapter Ten
In Over My Antlers
Ryatt
“Okay,” Holly breathes out between giggles. “I didn’t quite expect you to hate Hallmark movies as much as you clearly do, but that laughter has made up for it.”
I’m still scowling at the screen as the credits roll. It was awful! Between the cheesy lines, the predictable plot, and the over-the-top drama, I can’t see what people like about these.
But I’d watch 100 of these if it meant being cuddled up on the Hollys couch with her fluffy socked feet dangling over my thighs as I massage her feet.
Listening to her laughter and watching her swoon over the guy plotting some grand gesture for the woman, makes the entire experience worth it.
I don’t need to understand why she loves them to love watching them with her.
It’s been five days since I saved her from the taxi, and with each new piece of information I learn about Holly, the more I fall in love with her.
We’ve been on countless dates, some ending with heated moments that we barely broke apart from, and some ending with her rushing back to work.
This is the first time we’ve spent the day laid up on her couch watching movies.
We’re on our third one of these Hallmark movies, and I’m pretty sure Chester is one movie away from taking out my eye.
Holly told me about their tradition of sharing cookies together, and I was more than willing not to get in the way.
Apparently, he also didn’t like that I took his spot on the couch.
Holly clears her throat as she pulls her legs back underneath her.
“I’ve got a tiny confession to make. It’s nothing too serious.
I mean…it’s serious to me. But you have to promise not to laugh at me.
I’m slightly concerned about how you’ll react after how you…
” She hooks her thumb towards the screen. “You know reacted to those movies.”
I lean over towards her, grabbing her hands with mine, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Holly, there’s nothing you can say that will ever make me laugh at you…well, maybe there’s something…”
She reaches over and smacks me with her gingerbread pillow. “Hey now!”
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’m just saying! It’s a possibility with all your rambling that I might laugh. But seriously, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
Her laughter subsides as she shakes out her hands. “Okay, so ever since I was a little girl and my ma first introduced me to Hallmark Christmas movies, I’ve dreamed of being a screenwriter for them. Specifically, their Christmas department.”
“Why would I laugh at that?” I turn towards her, laying my arm along the back of the couch as I run my fingers around one of her curls.
Her cheeks flushed, a rosy hue spreading across them. “Because you hated the movies.” She mumbles it, trembling as she waits for his response.
My other hand reaches over, hooking a thumb under her chin. “I can hate those movies and still support your dream. I don’t need to love something to love it for you.”
She nods slightly. “There’s something else.
” Before I know whats happening, she leaps off the couch, and bounds over to her dining room table where a thick manila envelope is sitting.
She grips it in both of her hands, seeming to contemplate something before she nods curtly and walks back over to the couch.
She holds it out for me before she sits down. “What is this?” I ask as the envelope crinkles in my hands. Something hard and heavy inside it.
“Just open it.” She says as she grabs her hot cocoa, focusing all her attention on it. I can feel the fear coursing through her veins. What has her so worried?
I open the flap and find a spiral-bound book inside. I pull it out and read the black font across the front.
The Christmas PrinceBy Holly Winters
“Holly, is this your own Christmas romance?”
She takes a long swig of her hot cocoa before she looks over at me. She won’t meet my eyes, and I can’t stand it. I scoot closer to her until she has no choice but to look up at me.
“Don’t be ashamed. This is wonderful! I can’t wait to read it.”
She gasps, grabs the book, and clings to it as if it’s her life vest and she doesn’t want to sink. I reach over and grip the corner of the book as I hook an eyebrow up.
Her shoulders slump, and she releases her hold. “Fine, you can read it. But if you laugh even once, that’s it! I’m never letting you read another.”
“Fair enough.” I cross my finger over my heart. “I solemnly swear I’ll never laugh at what you wrote unless that is the intended response to what is written.”
It doesn’t take me long to see the similarities in our very own story woven into this one in a way that only we would know it’s our story.
Granted, she’s missing some key details, like me being a reindeer shifter and all that, but it has our meet-cute and some very graphic descriptions of how she looked at me that first day.
It is possible that she dramatized it for the story.
I read through the first date and that moment on the steps.
The one I stepped back from and walked away.
How she just wished that I’d push her up against the front door, grinding into her until she was a mewling mess.
She’d fumbled for her keys as I kissed along her neck and we stumbled our way up the stairs, kissing, and feeling all over each other’s bodies.
My eyes slowly lift from the paper to find Holly nervously biting at her lower lip as she clutches the blanket to her chest as if it might shield her from what I’ll say.
I put the manuscript down on the coffee table as my pulse thrums in my ears. I might have been able to discard the descriptions of me, but her thoughts on what she wanted me to do that first night? Yeah, I’m not going to get those images out of my head.
“Berry,” I say slowly, the sound rumbling from deep within me.
“Yes?” she squeaks as she pulls the blanket up to her nose, sinking further into the couch.
“Did you write all the things you wished had happened on that first night?” My hand runs up her blanket-covered thigh, grabbing the blanket, and tugging gently.
Her eyes widen as panic flares through her. “It’s nothing. I wrote about the feelings of the characters. Not at all what I was thinking.”
I watch in fascination as her cheeks bloom the same color as the fruit I named her after.
Oh, she definitely wanted those things to happen.
She just doesn’t have the confidence to speak them aloud.
I lean closer, putting one hand on the armrest next to her, leaning over her as I continue to pull on the blanket.
Her eyes are round as she looks up at me, and I can feel the combination of excitement and fear coursing through her.
Such an intriguing reaction to what I’m doing.
“Has my tart little berry been dreaming about me touching her, hmm?” I ask with a final yank of her blanket, snatching it from her hands, and discarding it to the living room floor.
She squeals, her hands scrambling for the blanket as she sinks even lower into the couch. I reach down and hook my hand under her knee, pulling it up onto the couch. She lies down on the couch, and her legs naturally open, beckoning me closer.
“Because…” I say as I lower myself between her creamy, thick thighs.
“I’ve been dreaming of all the ways I could touch you…
” My finger trails down her neck as she sucks in a breath.
“Taste you…” Leaning down, I bite her nipple through her clothes as her back arches off the couch.
“Tease you…” She grinds up into me as my hand travels down her thigh and hooks underneath the flimsy material of her shorts.
“Ryatt, I…” She gasps as my fingers slide lower into her shorts, gripping her ass, and squeezing. “I’m not good…”
I lean down, running my nose along her neck, inhaling her scent. That frosted cranberries warmed in brown sugar and vanilla has me wanting to lick every single inch of her to see if she tastes as good as she smells. “Not good at what?” I whisper against her ear before nipping her lobe.
“Ah!” Her hands scramble for purchase, looking for something to grip. “Gods, it’s so hard to focus with everything you’re doing.”
“Hmm,” I murmur as I kiss along her jawline, one hand twisting into her amber curls, tightening my grip on them so I can direct her head where I want it. “In the name of whispered confessions, maybe I should give you one of my own? Don’t you think?”
I lift up, looking down into those melted caramel eyes as she blinks up at me, nodding her head slowly, as she pants. “My fantasy is covering your body in whipped cream and melted chocolate. So I can take my time enjoying two of my favorite desserts.”
A tiny crease forms between her eyebrows as she tilts her head. “Sundaes and you. Because even though I’ve never tasted you, I already know you’ll be my favorite.”
Her pupils dilate even more, her iris is a thin band around the pools of darkness as her eyes flick between my own. “Ryatt, surely you can’t be serious?” I can feel her walls coming back up. Fear of what I’ll think when I see her without clothes on or maybe it’s something deeper…
I grind my hardened dick into her, feeling the moisture from her even through our clothes. “Does this feel like I’m joking?”
Her mouth rounds into an O as I rock my hips a few times. “Nothing,” I thrust hard once. “I ever do when it comes to you is a joke.” I thrust again as she mewls. “Nothing, Berry. My world begins and ends with you.”
“Ryatt,” she gasps, her fingers searching for something to cling to before she settles on my shirt, jerking me down until our lips are a breath apart. “I need you. Every part of you. Show me how it feels to be loved by someone like you…even if this magical spell breaks, I want these memories.”
“Oh, there won’t be any spell breaking.” I say as my fingers slip past the hem of her shorts and slide along the band of her underwear, damp with her arousal.