Chapter 9 Teagan
Teagan
“Ican’t believe Christmas is in two days.
” My voice comes out all high and squeaky, a mix of disbelief and excitement.
In the past two weeks, the intruder hasn’t made an appearance or done anything to my dream café.
My little slice of heaven is decorated to the max with fresh holiday flowers from the flower shop next door.
It’s festive, yet quiet—no notes, no threats, just the soft hum of the coffee machine and the warm glow of fairy lights twinkling above.
“Me either.” Axel’s eyes, bright and alive like holiday lights, send a flutter of energy through me, light and electric. His grin deepens, equal parts proud and playful, drawing a smile to my lips before I can think twice. “I hope you like your gift.”
“Axel Pembroke, you didn’t need to get me anything.” The words tumble out, but my heart races at the thought of what he might have gotten me.
“Don’t act like you didn’t get me something,” he teases, leaning against the counter.
The way his form fills the space, all lean muscle and confidence, makes it hard to focus.
My eyes trace the ridges of his six-pack, and I feel a blush creep up my cheeks.
God, it should be a sin to look that good. I’m just so glad he’s mine.
“Mine was made with love,” I shoot back, a grin tugging at my lips.
“And you’re saying mine wasn’t?” His voice is low, a spirited challenge dancing in his eyes.
“Well…” I stutter, caught off guard. “No. I don’t know.”
Sensing my uncertainty, he saunters closer, each step a deliberate tease.
“Everything I do is done in love.” He enunciates each word, his tone smooth and velvety.
My tongue instinctively wets my lips, the air intensifying around us.
His pupils flare slightly, a spark of mischief promises an explosion of bliss.
The café is alive, infused with the scents of freshly baked pastries and the faintest hint of pine from the little tree we’ve set up in the corner. The holiday spirit swarms around us, and for a moment, it’s as if the world outside fades away, leaving just us in our own little bubble.
“Do you really mean that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability slipping through the cracks of my bravado.
“Every word,” he replies, and the sincerity in his eyes confirms his words.
I take a step closer, raking my eyes over his god-like physique. “You always know how to make me feel special.”
He grins, that same charming smile that makes my heart skip. “That’s because I love you.”
Holy crap! Did he just say that out loud? “You what?” Stunned, I halt in my tracks. I can’t believe he just admitted to loving me. Out loud. He said those three little words.
When he makes it to me, he lowers his head to my neck trailing his velvety tongue along my throbbing pulse. “I love you,” he murmurs.
My knees buckle, and I throw my arms around his neck, holding on so I don’t collapse.
“I love you too.” My voice is shaky, breathless.
I’ve always loved him. I thought I’d be the first to say it, but here I am, stunned because he beat me to it.
And now I’ve said it... and now my mind is spinning, a million thoughts racing through me.
But he knows. He actually knows. He pulls me from my whirlwind of thoughts with a nip at my collarbone, and a soft, throaty moan escapes before I can stop it.
“You keep making sounds like that, I’ll have dessert before breakfast.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” I pant, throwing his words back at him.
“Don’t tempt me.” He growls while lifting me with speed and dexterity a man shouldn’t be able to possess this early in the morning.
Plopping me on the counter, he spreads my legs and presses his stiff erection to my center.
I can feel how hard he is through both of our clothing.
As he tangles his fingers into my hair, tugging my head back, giving him easier access to my throat, my folds pulse with need.
“I know you said upstairs is off limits, but…” I can’t form complete sentences. “But I can’t do what I want to do to you where people can see us through the window.”
Wrapping my legs around his waist, he takes the stairs two at a time.
When he flings the door open the tiny pin pings on the floor indicating no one’s been in here since the last break-in.
Once we’re inside, my eyes search the area and I notice the police have all the broken things removed and all the stuff that was strewn about is in a pile in the corner.
As Axel strides toward the now-stripped bed, I hop down.
“Wait. I think there are some sheets in the bottom drawer if they're still there.” Pulling the drawer open, I find some clean linens and throw them on the mattress quickly. “Okay, now where were we?”
In one fell swoop, he has me secure under him on the bed.
My pert breasts strain against the thin fabric.
“This off.” He lifts my shirt over my head and tosses it somewhere.
As I begin to unbutton his pants his lips find my nipple and when he sucks a long pull my entire body responds arching into him deeper.
“You like that?” His teeth nibble and bite lightly which causes a flood in my panties.
My trembling hands can’t shimmy his pants down fast enough.
Releasing my bud from his lips a popping sound fills the air getting a giggle out of me.
When we’re both bare he disappears under the sheet trailing his nose up my leg until he finds my labia drenched.
“You smell so fucking good.” I hear him before I feel him.
He plunges his silky tongue into my soaked center while his hands knead my breasts.
He twists and twirls them mixing pinching and pulling eliciting another guttural sound from me.
When he bites my soft folds, my bottom lifts and he thrusts his tongue deep inside again.
“Let…” I gasp. “Let me taste you.”
Understanding what I mean, he twists his body so that his thick length is level with my lips.
As he lowers himself, his tip barely grazes my mouth.
My tongue swirls around his head and salty pre-come dances on my taste buds.
I take my hands and massage his cheeks while bringing him deeper into my mouth.
As I deep-throat him, he continues to do miraculous things to my throbbing center.
He picks up his pace as I suck and pull, but suddenly he stills his movements causing me to whimper.
“I don’t want to come like this,” he admits, pulling out of my mouth.
A vulnerability fills his expression when he says, “I need to do it like this.” In seconds his entire body flips and his tip spreads my entrance.
He’s big but also kind. He’s not so eager to thrust inside me, potentially hurting me.
Slowly, he drives in allowing me to adjust. Once he knows I’m good, he picks up his pace.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him down perhaps a bit too forcefully into a bruising kiss. Our lips find a rhythm only we know all too well, while a tight tension builds within me.
I pant, “Faster.” I'm close, the pressure is mounting. He responds, driving deeper, his movements steady and relentless, hitting that spot with exact precision.
“Axel.” I gasp. “I’m… almost there.” His pace quickens and that tension snaps, flooding over me. “Axel!”
“I love hearing my name on your lips when you come.” His gaze locks with mine, intense and tender. As my walls pulse around him, he pushes into me one last time before giving in to his own release.
Weak and spent, he collapses gently on top of me. Our breathing steadies, hearts beating together.
When we finally gather the strength to move, we take a quick shower before heading back downstairs. Whew, that’s how to get the day started!
Now that the café is open it’s buzzing with a wonderful Christmas crowd full of excitement, and the air is full of fresh pastries and rich espresso.
Each order brings a new wave of cheer with people ready to pick up treats for their loved ones, wrapping them in crisp red and white boxes adorned with cute little bows.
It fills my heart such with joy that I know beyond the shadow of a doubt I’m doing exactly what I was put on this earth to do.
“I’d like a box full of your gingerbread snaps.”
A dejected voice pulls me from my thoughts, and my stomach drops when I glance up. My heart races, cold dread pools in my chest as I watch Stella drum her fingers on the pastry glass, her expression a mix of impatience and disdain.
“Stella.” I swallow thickly, forcing the words out through my tight throat. “How are you?” I brace myself, unsure how to navigate this encounter with the girl who has made it abundantly clear that she wants Axel for herself.
“I’m great! Looks like France was good to you.
” Her judgmental gaze drags over me like a harsh winter wind, chilling me to the bone.
“Your girl-like figure has framed out nicely. Who’d have ever thought you’d have curves like those?
” Jealousy seeps through her voice, cruel and caustic trying her best to cause any wound she can.
But Eleanor Roosevelt said it best: “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
This sorry excuse for a human being sure has an odd way of giving compliments. What’s it going to take for her to get it through her thick skull that I’m not going anywhere, for her to understand she will never have what’s mine?
“Stella. I see you’ve met Bayfront Beans’ newest owner?” Axel’s voice is smooth and reassuring as he steps in, sensing my discomfort.
“I have. And it looks like you’re mixing business with pleasure.” Stella’s remark drips with sarcasm, and I can’t help but feel the heat rise in my cheeks.
“And it looks like you’re done here.” Axel nods toward the door, an unyielding firmness in his tone that brooks no argument.
I try not to watch her sashay away, but when she pauses at the door and lets out a forced laugh, I can’t help but look up. Grady Stewart stands there, a familiar face from high school that I thought I’d never see again.
Stella places her hand on his chest, leaning in as if to share a secret, glancing over her shoulder with a sly smile. “You’ll go get coffee somewhere else if you want to be treated like a person.” Her words hang in the air like a bitter aftertaste as she exits.
“What was that about?” Grady asks, stepping up to the counter, his brow wrinkling with curiosity.
“Just someone showing their true colors,” I reply, trying to shake off the lingering unease as Axel makes his way to the tables, cleaning up the remnants of the morning rush.
“Grady. How have you been?” I ask, forcing a bright smile as I grab a sleeve to write his coffee order.
He puffs out his chest, a cigar poking out of his shirt pocket, giving him an air of forced maturity. “Can’t complain. You looking forward to the holiday?”
Beaming, I seize the change of subject, my heart lifting just a little. “I am! And you?”
“Mostly. Can I get a cup of black coffee, a blueberry muffin, and some English Butter Toffee for my mom?”
“Coming right up.” I move efficiently, my hands gliding over the familiar motions of preparing his order.
As I hand him his items, he fumbles in the same pocket as the cigar and pulls out some cash.
A smirk curves my lips when I see him stuff the change back in with the cigar, a small, goofy moment that lightens my mood.
He settles at a nearby table, picking up a newspaper someone left behind, the faint rustle of the pages mix with the holiday music.
“Have a wonderful Christmas!” I call out as he waves goodbye, feeling a small sense of normalcy wash over me.
The day slips by in a blur of ringing registers and happy chatter. I clean off tables, lost in the rhythm of it all, until I spot a crumpled piece of paper on one in the back. My heart sinks as I approach it, the familiar feeling of dread creeping in.
As I unfold it, the words leap out at me, cold and harsh: Your little café is charming, but charm won’t protect you. You have no idea what you’re getting into. I suggest you reconsider your place in this town.
A lump lodges in my throat, panic surging through me.
Axel’s gaze sharpens as he scans the note, his brow furrowing in a storm of frustration.
“Damn it. The bastard was here. Right under our noses.” His voice is low, fierce with anger as he crumples the paper in his fist and hurls it against the wall.
The thud of it hitting the surface breaks the tense silence between us.
He shoves a hand through his tousled hair, his fingers trembling with a mix of fury and confusion, as he tries to make sense of who the hell this is.
In the next breath, his posture softens. Without a word, he pulls me into him, his arms wrapping around me like a shield. The steady beat of his heart comforts me chasing away the chill of fear that has settled in my bones.
“There were so many people in here, there’s no way to know who left it.” It’s true. Anyone could have inconspicuously left it behind.
“We’ll give it to the officer posted outside so he can pass it on to the detective for evidence,” he says, his voice steady, but I can hear the underlying tension. He reluctantly bends down to snatch the balled-up paper from the floor, his expression grim.
As I finish closing up shop, the weight of the day settles on my shoulders, and I can’t believe I’m relieved to be closed for the rest of the week. The sight of the café fades as I try to forget about the threat, but Axel’s presence beside me provides some semblance of comfort.
With Christmas only two days away, I refuse to let an unseen threat take away my joy.
I picture cozy evenings spent with Axel, laughter ringing out as we bake cookies and wrap gifts together.
No matter the challenges we face, I’m determined to create new memories that will make this season truly special.