Chapter 24
Magnolia
I’m lost in the rhythm of my work, when I glance at the calendar on my iPad and freeze.
December first.
How in the fuck did it become December already? It feels like I just got here at Levi’s, even though I know realistically it’s been a few weeks. They’ve been the craziest weeks of my life, and I feel more at home here than I ever felt at the house I shared with Cody.
I look around the house, really seeing it for the first time in days. There’s no Christmas tree, no decorations, no hint of the holiday season. Levi mentioned he moved in last year but didn’t have time to really decorate. Maybe he’ll let us do it together, then.
An idea takes root, and before I can second-guess myself, I’m texting him.
Me: We haven’t decorated for Christmas. Want to?
The response comes quickly.
L: Be home in a couple hours. Let’s do it.
The way he calls it home? It makes me feel good every single time.
I finish the orders I’m working on, carefully packaging chocolate-covered strawberries and pretzels, my mind running with possibilities of how to decorate.
When I hear Levi’s truck in the driveway, I’m practically bouncing with excitement.
He comes through the door carrying a huge box, a grin on his face. “Figured we’d need a tree.”
“You bought a tree?”
“Had to. Never had one before when I was renting, and last year I just…didn’t.” He sets the box down, then goes back to the truck for more. “Got ornaments, too. Lights. The whole nine yards. We’re going to do this right.”
“Levi Harrison, are you excited about Christmas?”
His grin widens, and he looks much younger than he is in this moment. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just excited about decorating with you.”
We spend the next hour putting up the tree, and arguing over where to put ornaments.
“That’s too big to be at the bottom,” I argue. “See how it’s sagging dow?”
“I like it there though,” he argues back.
“But no one can see it!”
He blows out a breath and puts it where I’m pointing. Finally. Levi puts on Christmas music, and we fall into an easy rhythm, working around each other, laughing and talking and stealing glances at each other.
“Hand me that star?” I ask, gesturing to the tree topper.
He passes it to me, and as I reach up to place it, his hands come to my waist, steadying me. His cologne smells good, and it makes my nipples peak. “Careful.”
The star is placed, and I turn in his arms, suddenly very aware of how close we are. How his hands are still on my waist. How his eyes have gone dark.
“Magnolia Grace,” he murmurs, his voice deep and strained.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.”
My breath catches, body starting to heat up. “Have you?”
“Yeah.” His thumb strokes along my ribcage. “Is that okay?”
Instead of answering, I lean in and kiss him.
It starts slow, but quickly deepens. His hands tighten on my waist, pulling me flush against him. I wrap my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair.
We stumble backward, and suddenly we’re on the floor, the Christmas tree lights twinkling above us, and Levi’s looking at me like I’m his whole fucking world. His body over mine is warm, hard, and hot as hell.
“You’re sure?” he asks, his voice rough.
“I’m sure.”
What happens next is everything I’ve wanted and didn’t know I needed. Levi’s hands map my body, his lips following the path his fingers trace.
“I’ve never done this under a Christmas tree,” I pant as his rough palm travels up my stomach, until it encounters the lace of my bra.
Removing his lips from my neck nibbling slightly with his teeth, he whispers in my ear. “Can I?”
It takes me much longer than I care to admit, to figure out he’s asking for permission to move the lace down.
He’s more of a gentleman than I’ve encountered.
“Oh, please.” I tilt my head back giving him complete control over where he wants to put those lips of his.
Exposing my neck, and any other part he wishes to gorge on.
“God this feels good,” he moans as he moves one of his forearms under my thigh, lifting it to give him room to grind into me.
Oh Jesus, he’s really grinding into me now.
I breathe out a short pant, grasp his shoulders with my nails, and wish we were in bed, but also appreciating the way the floor digs into my back.
“Yes it fucking does.” I wrap that leg around his waist, digging my heel into his ass, needing the friction of our bodies rubbing together.
He abandons my neck, moving down to where my hard nipple is pressing against the fabric of my shirt. I want to lift it, expose my entire body to his eyes, look down and see his lips wrapped around my flesh. But he stops my hands as I go to lift my shirt.
“Let me do this first,” he growls as he takes the turgid tip through the material, swirling his tongue around it.
The move is hot as hell. I can feel the motion, but not the wetness of his saliva for a few moments as it soaks through the cotton. “Oh yes!” I grasp his hair in my fingers, thrusting up into his mouth, shivering when I feel the scrape of his teeth.
There’s a flurry of activity where in the space of a few minutes, our clothes are kicked off and gotten rid of.
When I feel the velvet hardness of his cock against my thigh, I reach down, circling my fingers around the girth.
He’s hot and hard, the skin stretched tightly along the crest of his head.
Both of us moan loudly. I use my palm to jack the length.
“Don’t go too fast.” His voice is guttural, like he’s swallowed gravel or right here on the edge.
“No such thing as too fast.” I open my eyes, watching him, watching me as I continue pumping his erection.
“Yeah there is, Magnolia Grace. It’ll be when I spill all over that smooth thigh of yours, because you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
My eyes widen as he licks the palm of his hand and slaps it against my pussy. My body jumps, vibrates, as I feel the shock all the way through my system and into my core. “I’m sufficiently wet,” I assure him, needing him to hurry this up, needing him to get rid of the ache.
“So you are.” He takes his index and middle fingers, pushing them in, stretching me. I pull them into my channel, no problem, all I want is more. More of anything and everything he wants to give me.
When I feel a trail of precum on my thigh, I lift my eyes to his. “Unless you want to lose it before you get it in me, again, now might be the perfect time.” I tease.
His eyes flair with desire as he levers himself off of me, his forearm flexes as he holds his hard length. When he thrusts home, a cry erupts from the back of my throat.
As we push and pull against each other, as my nails dig into his forearms, as his sweat drips off his face onto me, I’m aware that what we’re sharing isn’t something people share every day.
There’s something hanging in the air, something I’m not ready to put a label on, but it’s not just a quick affair that’s going to be over in a few weeks.
“Magnolia Grace, you grip me so good.” He digs his fingers into the globes of my ass, pulling me tighter against him, adding a grind when he pushes all the way in.
He rubs against my clit, and my eyes roll back in my head as I let myself experience this.
I don’t question it, don’t let my mind take me away from it. I feel it.
“Fuck me, Levi, just fuck me.”
And as I give myself over to him, I let it wash over me. I let the orgasm take me like the sunrise in the morning. It brightens up the day as it leaves darkness in its wake.
It’s a beautiful mess as we come and he groans into my neck, I wonder how I’m going to let my walls down, how I’m going to recover from opening myself up so wide to this man.
This man, who I’ve known most of my life, has just given me the most body-depleting orgasm of my life. Afterward, we lie tangled under the Christmas tree, the lights casting shadows across our skin, and I’ve never felt more at home.
“Magnolia Grace,” Levi murmurs, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“This isn’t just physical for me,” he says lowly.
I turn to look at him, my heart in my throat. “It’s not for me either.”
“Good.” He pulls me closer, and I let myself sink into his warmth. “Because I’m falling for you. Have been for a while now.”
Tears prick at my eyes, and my throat tightens. “I’m still married.”
“I know.”
“And I’m a mess.”
“No more of a mess than I am. You’re perfect.”
“Levi…” I try to stop him.
“No,” he says firmly. “You’re perfect for me. Exactly as you are.”
Outside, rain starts to fall, clicking against the metal roof. We watch it through the window, wrapped up in each other, and I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be okay.
“Merry Christmas, Magnolia Grace,” Levi whispers.
“Merry Christmas, hotshot,” I whisper back.
And under the twinkling lights of our Christmas tree, I finally let myself hope for a future that includes this man, this safe feeling, and the life we’re starting to build together.