Chapter 20
Harrison
Isit on the chair in the bedroom.
Normally, this would be story time.
Me, the kids, at least one argument over who gets the good pillow.
But not tonight.
Tonight, they all wanted Pix.
And honestly, I don’t blame them.
While she’s been reading, I’ve been trying—and failing—to make everything right.
Find the ring.
And be the guy who pulls a Christmas miracle out his ass.
I’ve called in every favor I’ve got.
Which really means every favor Mark’s got.
Studio execs. Security teams. Diamond dealers. Sebastian twice.
Nothing.
No miracle text.
No we found it.
Just thick, suffocating silence.
Zac would probably say every disaster comes down to three choices:
Fix it. Fake it. Replace it.
I’d replace Pix’s ring in a heartbeat.
Just not tonight, apparently.
The upside is that in the midst of all this, my entire world is in this suite.
The presents, however, are very much not.
But I’m not completely out of moves.
But, since someone owes me for doing a certain bachelor auction, I called in my own favor.
Hannah-BananaHead
Operation Sleigh Ride is a go!!
We’ve got a special courier delivering the gifts.
You’ll need to meet the plane.
ETA to follow.
My saint of a sister even offered to pick up something extra special for Pix, but there was no need. It was the first thing I packed.
Not a ring.
A first edition of Pride and Prejudice sits in my bag. Her favorite book.
Because according to her, the best stories are where the guy royally screws everything up… and still gets the girl in the end.
A quiet laugh slips out of me.
My tiny little keep hope alive gift.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I let myself believe maybe Pix would come back with us.
At least, for a few days.
Or months.
Or… forever.
“Whatcha doing?”
I glance up.
Pix leans against the doorway, barefoot, drowning in one of my T-shirts and a pair of sweats she’s had to roll three times just to keep from tripping over them.
Then she pulls the scrunchie from her hair.
Black waves tumble over her shoulders, messy and perfect.
“We need to get you some clothes,” I say, dragging my attention back to my phone. “Those are ridiculously big. You should really take them off.”
“These?” She nudges the door shut behind her.
Then, slowly, she pushes the sweats down those long, lethal legs, bending just enough to give me a good, long look at her glorious ass.
I clear my throat, drag my eyes back to my phone, and pretend not to notice.
She steps closer.
“What’s got you so captivated, Lumberjack?”
You.
“I’m in the middle of something,” I say, signing off my text thread with Hannah like I haven’t just seen the gates of heaven.
Her mouth curves. “I need a shower. Is there any chance I can pull you away?”
I lean back against the chair, but I force my eyes on my phone. “I'm very busy.”
To that, she hooks her fingers under the hem of the T-shirt and peels it over her head, tossing it straight at my face.
I glance over my phone.
And there she is.
Sun-kissed skin. White bra and panties. Soft curves in all the places designed for my tongue.
My brain short-circuits.
The rest of me is very much paying attention.
Especially my dick.
I continue to ignore her, mostly because getting under Pix’s skin has a near-perfect success rate, but I shift just enough for her attention to drop to my very obvious erection.
“Busy?” the half-naked woman huffs, visibly offended. She plants both hands on her hips. “Doing what exactly?”
“Angry Birds tournament.”
“Is that why you’re wearing reading glasses?”
Shit.
I forgot I still had them on.
My eyes have been burning for hours. I’m about to take them off, but the second I look up, I catch her expression.
Interesting.
Her teeth drag across the edge of her thumbnail as her gaze slowly sweeps over me.
Well then.
I slide the glasses higher up my nose. “I really need to focus.”
Her lips part slightly. “Is that what you need? To focus?”
By this point, every nerve ending in my body thrums with anticipation.
She crosses the room and climbs straight into my lap while my eyes stay trained on my phone.
That is, until her fingers reach behind her back.
A soft flick of fabric.
And two perfect, voluptuous tits.
Fuck me.
She grinds down on my lap. “Are you really going to stay on that phone all night, Lumberjack?”
I grip her hips, guiding her against my hard length, all while schooling my expression. “It’s a very competitive tournament.”
“I bet it is.” Her lips brush mine, teasing instead of kissing. “Enjoy your game.”
I keep my expression neutral.
And not like she’s actively trying to kill me.
She slides off my lap like a slow match strike straight to my groin.
Then, taking her sweet damn time, she hooks her thumbs into the sides of her panties and drags them slowly to the floor.
With a wicked little smile, she dangles them in front of my face, making absolutely sure I see how soaked they are.
Jesus Christ.
“I’ll be in the shower,” she says lightly.
I bet she will. Cleaning all her dirty little parts.
The shower kicks on.
I remain in the chair…
For a full ten seconds.
Pix stands under the spray, head tipped back, water sliding down her body.
For a second, I just… watch.
Because this—
Her. Here. In my space. In my life…
Feels like maybe if I blink too hard, it all disappears again.
I strip out of my clothes and step into the shower beside her, hands gliding over warm, wet skin.
She sighs softly as my palms slide down her back, across her ass.
Then her arms wind around my shoulders and one leg hooks around my waist. The heat of her sex setting me on fucking fire.
“Angry Birds tournament over?” she asks.
“I dominated the fucking board.”
I take her nipple into my mouth, and her entire body trembles in my hands. “Ready for me to fuck you, dirty girl?”
A broken little sound leaves her lips, and it’s addictive.
I ease into her slowly, both of us shuddering at the feel of it. I brace one hand against the shower wall before whatever’s left of my restraint evaporates.
Fuck this careful, controlled version of myself I’ve been clinging to by a thread.
I shove in to the hilt.
“Look at you,” I rasp against her throat. “Taking my cock so fucking well.”
“More,” she begs softly against my mouth.
And that thin thread of control snaps.
I slide in. Out. In. Out.
So tight. So fucking good.
It’s ecstasy and torture swirled into one.
Every slow thrust, every drag back out, only makes me want more, more, more…
“Faster,” she moans, breathless and wrecked, clearly trying to be the death of me.
Every kiss, every shaky little sound wraps itself around something deep inside my chest.
I want to lose control.
Want to drive us both straight off the edge.
Instead, I slow down. “I will take my time.”
Her body moves with mine in slow, devastating surrender.
Every kiss finds a fracture.
Every touch fills it.
The steam curls around us while her fingers tighten in my hair, her panting ragged and uneven.
My name breaks apart on her lips, and the sound damn near undoes me.
“Harrison!”
Then she shatters against me, clutching tighter, trembling in my arms like she’s trying to hold onto every piece of this.
Of us.
Fuck.
If I wasn’t already gone for her before this moment…
I am now.
Completely.
Endlessly.
Hers.
So far gone for this woman there’s no version of my future that doesn’t have her in it.
By the time release tears through me, my forehead drops to her shoulder and I’m breathing hard enough to shake.
And pounding hard enough to cause structural damage to the marble wall.
We stay tangled together beneath the water for a long time after that.
Kissing.
Touching.
Loving each other in all the quiet ways that feel inevitable. Dangerous and tender all at once.
Pix laughs softly. “Better than Angry Birds?”
I brush my mouth against hers. “You just broke the fucking leaderboard.”
By the time we dry off and fall into bed, my body instinctively curls around hers.
Sleep drags at me almost immediately, heavy and warm, Pix tucked against my chest with damp hair spread across my arm.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
I groan and rub the sleep from my eyes as my phone vibrates across the nightstand.
Hannah-BananaHead
Where are you?
One glance at the screen has me cursing under my breath.
Shit.
I overslept.
Pix rolls over sleepily, eyes barely open. “What’s going on?”
I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Nothing,” I murmur, already pushing up onto an elbow. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Huh?”
I lean down and kiss her softly.
“Christmas is coming.”
That earns me a sleepy smile. “Do you need help?”
I brush my thumb along her cheek. “What I need,” I tell her quietly, “is for you to rest up. Because when I get back, there’s a very good chance you’re getting one hell of a candy cane.”
Her laugh is low and sleepy. “Doesn’t that thing need twenty-four hours to reload?”
I grin against her mouth.
“Not around you.”