Chapter Six #2
Everyone laughed and raised their glasses. The music swelled again, and couples returned to dancing, but I couldn't look away from the miracle in my arms.
"Dance with me?" I asked.
She nodded, and I led her to the floor as "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" played. We swayed together, and the crowd seemed to disappear—just her in my arms, right where she belonged.
"What happens now?" she murmured against my chest.
"Now we take it one day at a time." I kissed the top of her head. "Starting with tonight."
She looked up, heat in her eyes. "I'd like that."
"Good." I let my hand slide lower on her back. "Because I've been thinking about getting you out of those stockings all night."
Her laughter was wicked. "You're terrible."
"And you love it."
"Maybe I do."
WE BARELY MADE IT THROUGH her cabin door before my mouth was on hers. She tasted like wine and promise, and I couldn't get enough.
"Bedroom," she gasped between kisses.
I followed her down the short hallway, shedding clothes along the way. My shirt. Her dress—which she stepped out of promptly after I undid the zipper, leaving her in nothing but a sheer lace bra, matching panties, and those stocking-covered legs.
"Jesus," I breathed, stopping to look at her.
"What?" she asked, suddenly shy.
"You're so damn beautiful." I traced the edge of her bra, down to where the tights met her thighs. "And I've been fantasizing about these since you walked in."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh yeah." I hooked my fingers in the top of one. "Mind if I unwrap my Christmas present?"
She bit her lip, eyes dark with want. "Please."
I took my time rolling them down, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Her breath hitched when I reached her inner thigh, and by the time I had those stockings off, she was trembling.
"Deacon," she said, voice shaky. "I need you."
"I know, baby." I stood and shed the rest of my clothes, then pulled her down to the bed with me. "I've got you."
This time was different from the first night. Slower. More deliberate. I wanted to savor every moment, memorize every sound she made, every place that made her gasp my name.
I kissed my way down her body, removing her bra and panties and tossing them aside. When I settled between her thighs, she threaded her fingers through my hair.
"I want to taste you," I said. "Want to make you come on my tongue."
"God, yes."
I took my time, building her slowly with my mouth and fingers until she was writhing beneath me. When she came apart, crying my name, I felt it in my chest—this overwhelming rightness, like I'd finally found my way home.
"Inside me," she panted. "I need you inside me now."
I moved up her body, kissing her deeply so she could taste herself on my tongue, and slid into her in one smooth thrust. We both groaned.
"You feel so good," she breathed, her legs wrapping around my waist. "So perfect."
I moved slowly, watching her face in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her eyes stayed open, locked on mine, and the intimacy made my chest tight.
"I'm falling for you," I said, the words coming without thought. "So damn hard."
"Me too." She pulled me down for a kiss, deep and sweet. "This terrifies me."
"Me too."
"But it's honest."
"Yeah." I thrust deeper, and she moaned. "It's honest."
We moved together, building slowly, savoring every moment. I changed angles, hit that spot that made her gasp, and her nails dug into my back.
"Right there," she panted. "Don't stop."
"Not stopping." I reached between us, finding her clit and rubbing circles. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it."
She shattered beneath me, her body clenching around me in waves, my name on her lips. The sensation dragged me over with her, and I buried my face in her neck as I came, both of us trembling.
After, we lay tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing patterns on her bare shoulder.
"Stay," she whispered. "Tonight. Tomorrow. Don't go."
"Wasn't planning on it." I kissed her forehead. "I'm exactly where I want to be."
She tilted her head up to look at me. "What time is it?"
I checked my phone on the nightstand. "12:17. Merry Christmas, baby."
"Merry Christmas." She snuggled closer. "Best Christmas present ever."
"Agreed."
We dozed off wrapped around each other, and when I woke to pale dawn light, she was still there. Still mine.
CHRISTMAS MORNING ARRIVED quiet and soft. Snow had fallen overnight, covering everything in fresh powder. Through the window, I could see it blanketing the pines, making everything look new.
Eve stirred beside me, those green eyes opening slowly. "Morning."
"Morning." I kissed her, slow and lazy. "How'd you sleep?"
"Best I've slept in months." She stretched, the sheet slipping down, and I got distracted by bare skin. "What time is it?"
"Early. Maybe seven?"
"We should stay in bed all day."
"Tempting." I ran my hand down her side, making her shiver. "But I was thinking we could make breakfast. Drink coffee. Enjoy our first Christmas morning together."
She smiled, lighting up her whole face. "Our first."
"Hopefully of many."
"Hopefully."
We got up eventually, pulling on comfortable clothes—me in sweats, her in soft leggings and one of my flannels she'd claimed. In the kitchen, I found ingredients for French toast while she started coffee, and we moved around each other with surprising ease.
"I don't have any presents," she said, leaning against the counter watching me cook. "I wasn't planning on celebrating."
"Don't need presents." I plated the golden-brown slices of toast, while Eve grabbed a jar of syrup and se the table. "Already got what I wanted."
"Me too." She sat across from me, and we ate in comfortable silence, the tree lights twinkling in the corner.
After breakfast, we moved to the couch. She curled into my side, and I wrapped my arms around her, both of us staring at the tree we'd decorated together.
"So what now?" she asked. "I'm supposed to head back to Boulder in a couple days. Back to my life."
My heart kicked. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know yet." She tilted her head to look at me. "My lease is up in February. My job is remote. I could work from anywhere, really."
"Anywhere?"
"Anywhere." She bit her lip. "Even a tiny mountain town in the middle of nowhere."
My pulse raced. "You'd consider staying?"
"I'd consider it." She smiled. "I'm not making any promises yet. Let's just see how the next few days go. But yeah, I could see myself here. With you. If you want that."
"I want that." I kissed her temple. "Take all the time you need. No pressure."
"Thank you."
We sat there together as Christmas morning stretched out, soft and perfect. No schedules, no obligations, nowhere else to be. Just us, taking a chance on something that felt more real than anything either of us had known in years.
Outside, the world was blanketed in snow. Inside, the fire crackled, the tree glowed, and Eve's warmth pressed against my side felt like home.
"Merry Christmas," I said again, because I couldn't say it enough.
"Merry Christmas." She squeezed my hand. "Here's to new beginnings."
"To new beginnings," I agreed. "And to whatever comes next."
"As long as it's from the heart."
"Always."
We stayed like that for hours, talking about nothing and everything, making plans and changing them, laughing and kissing and just being together. The future was uncertain—she might stay, she might go, we might make it or we might not.
But today? Today was about miracles and hope and the joy of choosing love even when it's scary.
Today was Christmas. And I had everything I wanted.