Chapter Four #2
"I'm curious. Are they decorative or functional?"
"Oh my god, stop." But she was laughing harder now, tears streaming down her face. "This is so inappropriate."
"Your friend has good taste in alcohol, at least." I picked up the bottle of champagne. "This is the expensive stuff."
"I cannot believe this is happening." Tinsley was still laughing, wiping her eyes. "First I accuse you of being a stripper, then dog pee on the rug, now my best friend's pleasure basket shows up like some kind of cosmic joke."
"Could be worse."
"How?"
"Could be snowing harder."
She threw a pillow at me. I caught it, grinning.
"Want to open the champagne?" I asked.
"Might as well. This night can't get any weirder."
I opened the bottle—proper pop and everything—and poured us each a glass. We settled back on the couch, the basket sitting on the coffee table like an elephant in the room.
"So," Tinsley said after a long sip. "I guess Melody thought I needed... this."
"She's a good friend."
"She's insane."
"Can be both."
She laughed, shaking her head. "I told her not to send a stripper. Should've been more specific about the no-sex-toys thing."
"Would've saved some embarrassment."
"Some." She glanced at me. "You're handling this remarkably well."
"I've seen stranger things on a ranch."
"I highly doubt that."
"You'd be surprised what cattle get up to."
That earned me another laugh. God, I was starting to love that sound.
We drank champagne and talked—easier now, the awkwardness from the surprise delivery fading into something comfortable.
She told me about growing up in Kalispell, about her parents, about her brother studying engineering at Montana State.
I told her about my siblings scattered across the country, about my parents retiring, about what it meant to be the one who stayed.
"Do you ever regret it?" she asked. "Staying when everyone else left?"
"Never. This is where I belong."
"It’s good you already know that."
"You'll find your place, too."
"Maybe." She looked at the fire, then back at me. "I guess there’s still a little time left to ask Santa for one more wish.”
The way she said it—quiet, hopeful—made my heart beat faster.
I set my glass down. So did she.
We sat closer now.
"Tinsley—"
"There's mistletoe," she blurted.
"What?"
She pointed toward the doorway between the living room and kitchen. A sprig of mistletoe hung from the frame, probably put there by the property owner.
"Just..." she cleared her throat, “thought you should know it's there."
"That so?"
"Yeah." She bit her lip. "In case that's relevant."
"Could be relevant."
"Could be."
We stared at each other. The fire crackled. Outside, the storm raged.
"I should probably—" she started.
"Yeah, we should—" I said at the same time.
Neither of us moved.
She stared at my lips. When she looked back up, her eyes were darkened.
"TJ."
"Ma'am?"
"Are you going to kiss me or are we going to sit here talking about mistletoe all night?"
A laugh burst out of me. "Direct. I like that."
"Is that a yes?"
Instead of answering, I reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Let my hand linger against her jaw. She sucked in a breath.
"Been wanting to kiss you since you accused me of being a stripper," I admitted.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
I closed the distance between us.
Her lips were warm, tasting like champagne and chocolate. The kiss started slow—testing, questioning. She made a small sound in the back of her throat and leaned in, her hand coming up to grip my shoulder.
I deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. She opened for me, and suddenly slow wasn't enough. My hand slid into her hair. Hers fisted in my thermal shirt. The kiss turned hungry, desperate, like we were both starving for this.
When we finally broke apart, we were both gasping.
"Damn," she whispered.
"Yeah."
"That was—"
"Yeah."
She laughed, then kissed me again.
This time there was no hesitation. No testing. Just heat and want and the feeling that this was inevitable from the moment I knocked on her door.
I pulled her into my lap. She straddled me without hesitation, her hands in my hair, mine on her hips. The kiss deepened, turned filthy. She rolled her hips against me and I groaned.
"Tinsley." My voice came out rough. "We should probably—"
"Don't you dare say stop."
"Was going to say move this somewhere more comfortable."
"Oh." She pulled back, eyes dark with want. "Good. Yes. That."
We stumbled upstairs, stopping every few steps to kiss. At the second bedroom, I carefully transferred the sleeping puppy to her carrier, made sure she had water, closed the door gently.
Then Tinsley grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the master bedroom.
The room was stunning—king bed with a log frame, fireplace burning low, huge windows showing nothing but white. But I barely noticed any of it because Tinsley was kissing me again, backing me toward the bed.
My thermal shirt disappeared quickly, her hands pushing it up and over my head. Her sweater joined it on the floor.
She stood in front of me in a thin tank top, no bra, her curves on full display. I forgot how to breathe.
"You're staring," she said, but she didn't sound upset about it.
"Can't help it. You're fucking gorgeous."
"TJ—"
"Mean it." I reached for her, pulled her close. "Every inch of you is perfect."
I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring. Let my hands explore—the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the smooth skin of her back. She arched into my touch, making quiet sounds that went straight to my cock.
"Your turn," she said, and her hands went to my belt.
"You sure about this?"
"Very sure." She looked up at me, eyes clear despite the heat in them. "Unless you're not?"
"Oh, I'm sure, ma'am." I caught her hands, brought them to my lips. "Just wanted to check."
"Consider me checked." She resumed working on my belt. "Now less talking, more naked cowboy."
I laughed against her mouth. "Yes, ma'am."
The rest of our clothes disappeared quickly. When she stood before me in nothing but snowflake-covered panties, I took a moment to look. Curved hips. Full breasts with rosy nipples already tight. Soft stomach. Strong thighs.
She shifted, arms starting to come up to cover herself.
"Don't." I caught her hands. "You're beautiful. Let me see you."
"I'm not—"
"You are." I kissed her shoulder. Her collarbone. The swell of her breast. "Every inch. And I’m going to prove it."
When I took her nipple in my mouth, she gasped, her hands flying to my hair. I lavished attention on both breasts, learning what made her moan, what made her arch, what made her whisper my name.
"TJ." Her voice was breathy. "Bed. Now."
I picked her up—she squeaked in surprise—and laid her on the bed. She sprawled across the covers, hair fanned out, cheeks flushed, looking like every fantasy I'd never let myself have.
"Just so we're clear," she said as I climbed over her. "I'm on birth control."
"Clean test from six months ago," I replied. "Haven't been with anyone since."
"Good." She pulled me down for a kiss. "Now where were we?"
I kissed my way down her body, taking my time. When I reached the waistband of her panties, I looked up. "Can I?"
"God, yes."
I pulled them down slowly, revealing her completely. She tried to close her legs, suddenly shy.
"Let me see you," I said quietly.
She relaxed, letting her thighs fall open. She was already wet and glistening. My mouth watered.
I kissed the inside of her thigh. She jumped. Kissed higher. She whimpered. When I finally put my mouth on her, she cried out.
She tasted sweet and salty and perfect. I took my time, learning what she liked—flat tongue or pointed, slow or fast, gentle or firm. When I found her clit and sucked, her hips came off the bed.
"Oh god," she gasped. "TJ, I—"
I added a finger, then two, crooking them to find that spot. Her inner walls clamped down.
"That's it, ma'am," I murmured against her. "Come for me."
She shattered, crying out my name, her thighs trembling against my shoulders. I kept my mouth on her, drawing it out, then pressed kisses to her thighs as she came down.
When I crawled back up her body, she looked dazed. "That was..."
"Good?"
"Understatement." She grabbed my face and kissed me, tasting herself on my lips. Then her hand wrapped around my cock and I hissed.
"My turn," she said with a wicked smile.
She pushed me onto my back and kissed her way down my chest, my stomach. When she took me in her mouth, I groaned loud enough to wake the whole valley.
She worked me with enthusiasm, one hand wrapped around the base while her mouth moved over the head. When she took me deeper, swallowing around me, I had to grip the sheets to keep from losing control.
"Tinsley." My voice was wrecked. "Sweetheart, you have to stop or I'm going to—"
She pulled off with an obscene pop. "Not yet, cowboy. I want you inside me when you come."
"Jesus."
She climbed up my body, straddling my hips. My cock pressed against her slick heat. She rocked against me, teasing us both. Then she sank down slowly, taking me inch by inch. We both groaned as she seated herself fully, her body adjusting to the stretch.
"Okay?" I gripped her hips.
"So okay." She rolled her hips, testing. "So very okay."
We found a rhythm—her rising and falling, me thrusting up to meet her. The firelight played across her skin, making her glow. She braced her hands on my chest, her breasts bouncing with each movement.
"God, you're sexy," I said, unable to stop the words.
She smiled, leaned down to kiss me. "So are you, cowboy."
I flipped us suddenly, pinning her beneath me. She gasped, then laughed.
"Harder," she demanded. "I want to feel you."
I gave her what she wanted, driving into her with deep, powerful thrusts. She wrapped her legs around my waist, changing the angle, and we both moaned.
"Touch yourself," I said. "Want to feel you come on my cock."
Her hand slipped between us, finding her clit. Within seconds, her inner walls started fluttering.
"That's it. Come for me."
She did, crying out, her body arching off the bed. I slowed my thrusts, letting her ride it out, fighting my own release.
When she came down, she looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes. "Don't stop."
"Not done with you yet, ma'am."
I pulled out, and she made a sound of protest. Then I kissed my way down her body again. When I looked up at her from between her thighs, she moaned.
"That's a view I'll never forget," she said breathlessly.
"Good." I ran my tongue along her slit, and she gasped. "Want you to remember this."
I brought her close again with my mouth, then stopped before she could come. She whimpered in protest.
"Turn over," I said, voice rough. "On your hands and knees."
She scrambled to comply, presenting herself to me. The view was incredible—the curve of her spine, the swell of her ass, her pussy wet and ready.
Then I spotted my boots by the door where I'd kicked them off earlier.
"Hold on," I said.
"What?"
I grabbed the boots, brought them to the bed. "Put these on."
She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Your boots?"
"Yeah."
"TJ, they're huge. I'll look ridiculous."
"You'll look sexy as hell. Trust me."
She slid them on—they came up past her ankles, way too big, clunky and oversized on her petite frame. She knelt there on the bed, naked except for my boots, and I nearly came from the sight alone.
"Happy now?" she asked.
"Very." I positioned myself behind her, running my hands over her ass. "You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now."
"In your boots?"
"In nothing but my boots." I lined myself up at her entrance. "Now, do you want me to fuck you or keep talking about footwear?"
She laughed, then pushed back against me. "Fuck me, cowboy."
I drove into her in one thrust. She cried out, back arching, boots scrabbling for purchase on the bed.
"That's it," I groaned, gripping her hips. "Take it."
I set a hard pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with her moans and my grunts. The boots made her taller, changed the angle just enough that I was hitting somewhere that made her keen.
"Oh god, TJ, right there—"
"Right here?" I thrust harder.
"Yes! Fuck, yes—"
"Love hearing you say that." I reached around to find her clit. "Love hearing you beg."
"Please," she gasped. "Please don't stop—"
"Not stopping, ma'am. Not until you come all over my cock."
She was close—I could feel it in the way her pussy gripped me, in the way her sounds got higher and more desperate. I worked her clit in tight circles while I fucked her deep and hard.
"Come on," I growled. "Let me feel it."
She came with a scream, her whole body shaking, the boots nearly kicking me as her legs spasmed. I fucked her through it, chasing my own release.
"Where?" I asked.
"Inside," she gasped. "I want to feel you come inside me."
That did it. I thrust deep one more time and came hard, groaning her name, buried as deep as I could get.
We collapsed together, both of us gasping. I managed to roll to the side, pulling her with me. She curled against my chest, still wearing my boots, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin.
"So," she said after a while. "Still think I don't look ridiculous in these?"
I glanced down at the boots. "Those boots have never looked better."
She laughed, then reached down to pull them off. Naked, flushed, with her hair wild around her shoulders—she looked like sin and salvation wrapped into one.
We lay there for a while, trading lazy kisses, catching our breath.
"Hey," she said quietly. Then: "TJ?"
"Hmm?"
"No regrets?"
"Not a single one. You?"
"No." She kissed my chest. "Best Christmas Eve I've ever had."
"Same."
We fell into comfortable silence, listening to the storm outside and the fire crackling. Eventually, I felt her start to drift off.
"Tinsley?"
"Mm?"
"Merry Christmas, ma'am."
She smiled against my skin. "Merry Christmas, cowboy."
Within minutes, we were both asleep.