Chapter 22
Ava
For one perfect, sleepy moment, I almost forget where I am.
Warmth presses against my back. A heavy arm drapes over my waist.
Harrison.
My own personal lumberjack fantasy.
Trying to sneak back into bed after being gone for hours.
Smiling, I take in a deep breath and sigh. “You have the stealth of a grizzly.”
He grinds against me. “A horny grizzly.”
“Shh. Do you hear that?”
He goes completely still beside me, every inch of the hulking lumberjack shifting instantly into alert dad mode.
A beat later he whispers, “I don’t hear anything.”
“I do.” I wiggle my ass against him. “That’s the sound of opportunity knocking.”
His hand tightens on my hip. “Opportunity is about to fuck you into next week.”
“A Christmas quickie?” I whisper. “Before the children wake up and hijack Christmas.”
“They already hijacked Christmas. On a private jet like tiny criminals.” He nips at my neck, smiling against my skin. “It’s time I opened my present.”
I giggle as he rolls me onto my back, blankets tangling around our legs.
And then there’s that look.
The kind of look that says I’m about to get it good.
My stomach flutters as he slides the covers aside and slowly takes in my naked body.
“Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs roughly.
“What about me?” I blink at him, still in his flannel shirt and jeans. “Are you keeping your clothes on?” I giggle.
“If those little gremlins storm this room, I’ll deal with them.” His mouth curves against my skin. “And besides,” he murmurs before kissing my breast, “if my jeans come off, there’s zero chance I stop at a quickie.”
Heat unfurls low in my stomach. “I want them off.”
He huffs like it’s a burden. “If I must. It is Christmas after all.”
Then he peels his flannel shirt over his head in one slow pull, exposing masculine perfection.
My gaze drifts lower as he shoves his jeans down powerful thighs. The boxer briefs follow.
Dear Lord.
The man is all hard muscles, carved abs, and hung like a fucking horse.
“Spread your legs.”
The command sends a sharp pulse of heat straight between my legs.
I spread wide.
His gaze turns dark and hungry. “Good girl.”
A rough breath leaves him as his fingers glide between my legs.
“So wet for me.”
“Always,” I whisper breathlessly.
His eyes darken as he drops to his knees beside the bed. “God,” he says roughly, looking at me like he’s starving, “I’ve missed this pussy.”
With anyone else, I never could’ve done this. Never let a man just look at me.
I was much more of a lights out, girl. Fade too black, already.
But Harrison ruins me for every other man.
The way he tastes me, worships me, slows down for me like there’s nowhere else on earth he’d rather be… I can’t get enough of him.
The man kisses every scar, every insecurity, every hidden piece of me… until I unravel in his hands.
My back arches off the mattress as helpless sounds spill from my throat.
Like Harrison knows every secret my body has. How to drag me right to the edge and keep me trembling there.
Pleasure ripples through me so hard my legs shake beneath his hands.
The man is a god.
He slides a finger in, then two, working me until my body chases a slow rhythm.
“Look at me,” he demands.
So bossy.
Our eyes lock, and the intimacy of it nearly wrecks me. Watching him lap me up.
So good.
And then, he does it. That deep, devastating stroke of his tongue he knows absolutely wrecks me.
My entire body shudders as my fingers tangle in his hair and I hold on and ride his face for dear life.
Pleasure crashes through me in brutal, perfect waves, powerful enough to steal the breath right out of my lungs.
“Harrison!”
My back arches off the mattress as I come apart beneath him, trembling as he slowly, devastatingly, laps me back down to earth.
The next thing I know, he’s flipping me onto my knees, one rough hand sliding up my spine as he positions me exactly where he wants me.
Because apparently that was just the opening act.
And when the sex god in flannel gets behind the wheel?
There is no mercy.
He fists my hair. “Are you ready for this big dick?”
Fuck, yeah I am.
I bite my lip instead, and make him wait.
The crack on my ass is delicious. “Answer me.”
And God. I nearly come undone again from the command in his voice.
“Yes,” I whimper.
He presses in just enough to remind me exactly what I’m dealing with.
Big.
Like “ma’am, are you absolutely sure about this?” big.
A shaky breath leaves me as he eases in slowly, deliberately, stretching me inch by inch as the sting melts to ecstasy.
Slick sounds fill the room with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he groans, gripping my hips harder.
The pace builds.
Harder.
Deeper.
Relentless in that devastating Harrison way that has me barely able to hold myself up.
I know I’m making entirely too much noise. But when a six-foot-four battering ram is wrecking my lady parts, silence is no longer an option.
“Quiet,” he demands, sliding two fingers against my lips.
I take them into my mouth instantly, sucking softly as his pace turns rough and desperate.
“Fuck, yes,” he grunts against my skin.
God, I love this.
Love him.
Just like this.
The way he completely loses himself with me.
The pressure builds fast now, like a wire stretched too tight, ready to break.
I break apart with a cry.
“Harrison—”
“That’s it, baby. Yes!” He comes apart so hard, I’m spiraling all over again.
We collapse onto the bed in a tangled heap of limbs and stolen breaths, Harrison immediately hauling me back against his chest like he physically can’t stand an inch of distance between us.
And neither can I.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. We just lie there wrapped around each other while the first soft light of morning stretches across the bed.
The world is waking up around us.
And all I want to do is stay right here and steal one more hour before reality comes crashing back in.
Why can’t life have a snooze button?
“I missed you, Pix,” he whispers finally, his voice sleep deprived and rough with sex and something softer that tugs painfully at my chest.
My throat tightens.
Because he doesn’t know.
Doesn’t know I’ll be leaving soon. Doesn’t know this perfect little bubble we’re lying in already has an expiration date hanging over it.
And it’s Christmas.
I can’t ruin Christmas.
The moment feels impossibly fragile after that.
Like if either of us says one wrong thing, it’ll splinter apart completely, and the little piece of heaven we just stole for ourselves will disappear with it.
So all I say is, “I missed you, too.”