Chapter 8
Niko
Together we get the tree assembled so it can settle into place, and then I send her off for her shower.
I pull the chicken from the refrigerator, sear it, place it in a pan with lemon, onion, potatoes—just like my mother taught me—before sliding it into the oven to finish. The rest of the vegetables will be added later.
My mother was the visionary. My father, ever practical, simply followed her lead, picking up the dropped pieces of her puzzles and fitting them neatly back into place.
They started as a business arrangement, he the accountant, she the chef.
He always said he loved her from the very first moment they met.
It just took him a while to convince her.
Because he’s quiet and content to stand beside or behind her, some have called him pussy-whipped. She insists he’s her tower, her strength, and she’d be nothing without him.
I’ve had fame. I’ve had the hollow praise, the kind of praise for things that never really mattered.
I will gladly be Wynter’s support system—her fallback net, her steady hands to catch whatever falls.
Maybe one day, if our hearts allow it, I’ll be her everything.
For now, I’m exactly where I want to be. Beside her.
“Umm, something smells really good,” she says, walking in wearing a soft blue sweatshirt and pants. Dark-blue fluffy socks cover her feet.
“A real meal instead of coffee, donuts and deli sandwiches?”
“Yes! I get so tired of fast food, but don’t have the interest to cook just for myself.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll cook. Go relax on the couch. I’ll pour you a glass of wine. You rest while I shower, and by then dinner will be done. You’ve been pushing too hard. No more work night. We’ll have a nice meal by the fire and an early evening.”
“But…”
“No buts. There are two of us now. We can get this done.”
I put on soft music, hand her the wine, and kiss the top of her head. “Rest. I’ll be right back.”
When I return, she’s ignored me completely and decorated the tree with lights. The tiny white bulbs cast a warm glow over the dimmed room.
“You couldn’t rest?”
She glances at me from where she’s curled on the couch. “The lights are my favorite. With a good fire they’re all I really need to feel the season.”
“I agree.”
When she starts to rise, I wave her off. “We’ll eat by the fire. I’ll plate everything.”
I bring her diner and top off her wine before getting my own plate and joining her. The flames are peaceful, almost hypnotic, and the silence between us feels full, comfortable, companionable. After we’ve eaten, I clear the plates and refill our glasses.
When I return, she has her laptop open.
“Aha, no more work tonight.”
“It was the candy shop. She said the extra candy is no problem and thanked me for the business. Nico, this town… the people are amazing. We’ve always been about locally owned.
We don’t need big box stores. We need to support what we already have.
Mass produced chocolate can’t touch what she makes. We just need better promotion.”
“We’ll do what we can now. Get through the town Christmas party and you keep looking for other ideas. I believe in you, Wynter. You can save this town, and I’ll help. Small steps.”
I settle into the corner of the couch and tug her gently to rest against my chest. She melts into me, and it doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep.
I sip my wine, more content than I’ve ever been. This—this is peace. Fulfillment. Happiness. When I chose to hide from my past, I never thought I’d find my future.
An hour later, I brush her shoulder. “Time for bed, Thisavre mou. Come, I’ll take you to the bathroom.”
“My turn, dishes,” she mumbles.
“Already done. Time for sleep.”
I lift off the blanket I’d tucked around her earlier when I prepared the cabin and fire for the night.
“You’re too good to me. I need to take care of myself.”
“No. We take care of each other.”
I walk my sleepy girl to the bathroom, wait for her, then settle her into bed before taking care of myself and sliding in on the other side of her.
“Cold, Niko. Warm me,” she mumbles. Lying on my side, I urge her into the cradle of my body, wrapping a leg over hers and holding her to my chest with one arm over hers. Yes, love. Always ask me for what you need and I will give it to you.
She clasps my hand, snuggling it between her breasts. We fit perfectly. My body reacts, but I tamp it down. Now is for sleep. Soon, I promise myself. Soon.
I wake on my back with a warm softness draped over me. My rod is already up and ready to play. I will myself to wait, to be patient, to give her time.
She lifts her head from my chest, meets my gaze and lowers her lips to mine. Tentative, almost shy, her kiss is both innocent and erotic. Damn, she is tempting. I try to give her control but as her tongue duels with mine, the need threatens to explode within me.
Her touch is gentle but unwavering. Her flavor is sweet, threaded with longing. Her hunger contained, though it aches to be unleashed.
“Yes, Wynter. Take it. Take what you want. I want it too.”
Shifting, she pushes off her sweatpants. I push and kick mine off at the same time. Crossing her arms over her chest, she pulls off her shirt and rolls back on top of me straddling my hips.
“Yes,” I hiss when her sweet pussy settles on my shaft. “Clean. No sex since tested ten months ago.”
“I’m also clean and on the shots.” She meets my gaze. “I want you, Niko. Just you. The man you are. Nothing else.”
“I know my kardiá mou. I know. I want only you.”
Sliding my hands up her soft thighs, then over her hips, I palm and gently plump her breasts. They fit perfectly in the cup of my palm. Her hard nipples press against me. I flick the hard little buds with my thumb.
Sucking two fingers into my mouth, getting them nice and wet, I reach between us. Gliding them over her nub she arches against me. Her whimper is so erotic. “Play with those sweet breasts while I get you ready to take me. Show me how you cup them and tease them when you’re alone.”
“Ho-how do you know?”
“Because you’re innately sensual. It’s how you move, in your eyes. Your shyness may confuse some. I see you. The real you.”
My cock is aching with need. She rises just enough I . slick my fingers in her juices and press my fingers into her. In and out I pump, priming her to take me, watching her.
“You are so perfect, so beautiful. Ride my hand, sweetheart.”
“Niko, make me come. Please make me come.” Her gasps tell me I’ve found the spot and rhythm to satisfy her. “Now, sweet. Ride my hand and come for me.”
She gasps. “Nico!”
“Yes, now.” Her sweet mewl of honest pleasure fills me. More important than my own need, I’ve just satisfied my woman.