Chapter Six #2
I stripped fast—shirt, jeans, boxer briefs hitting the floor in quick succession. She made a soft sound low in her throat that went straight to my cock.
"Bed," I said. "Now."
She climbed onto the mattress, and I followed her down, settling between her thighs. But instead of rushing, I slowed down. Kissed her until we were both gasping. Let my hands explore—the dip of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the soft skin of her inner thighs.
"I want to try something," I murmured against her mouth.
"What?"
I reached over to the nightstand where we'd left Melody's gift basket. Grabbed the massage oil and one of the candy canes tucked inside.
Tinsley's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"
"Trust me?"
She nodded, and I unwrapped the candy cane, popping it into my mouth. The peppermint flooded my tongue, sharp and sweet.
Then I kissed my way down her body. Took my time about it. Learned which spots made her gasp, which made her arch into me. When I finally settled between her thighs, she was already breathing hard.
"TJ, what are you—oh my god."
The first touch of my peppermint-cooled tongue against her had her hips coming off the bed. I gripped her thighs, holding her steady, and got to work. The candy cane made everything more intense—cool mint against her heat, the flavor mixing with the taste of her.
"Jesus," she gasped, hands flying to my hair. "That feels—oh god, don't stop."
I had no intention of stopping. I worked her slow and thorough, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on her clit. Added two fingers, crooked them to find that spot inside that made her keen.
"There," she choked out. "Right there, please—"
I kept my rhythm steady, the candy cane long dissolved but the cool tingle still there. Felt her inner walls start to flutter, knew she was close.
"Come on, sweetheart," I murmured against her. "Let me feel it."
She shattered with a cry, thighs clamping around my head, whole body going taut as a bowstring. I worked her through it, gentling my touch as the aftershocks rolled through her.
When I finally kissed my way back up her body, she looked thoroughly wrecked. Lips parted, eyes glazed, chest heaving.
"That was..." She couldn't finish the sentence.
"We're just getting started." I grabbed the massage oil, warming it between my palms. "Roll over."
"Bossy."
"You like it."
She rolled onto her stomach with a laugh, and I straddled her thighs. Started working the oil into her shoulders, her back, taking my time. Her muscles went loose under my hands, small sounds of pleasure escaping her throat.
"That feels amazing," she murmured into the pillow.
"Good." I worked my way down her spine, thumbs pressing into the tight spots. When I reached her ass, I couldn't resist—gave her a light smack that made her yelp and laugh.
"Hey!"
"Couldn't help myself. You've got a great ass."
"Flatterer."
I smoothed the oil over her hips, her thighs, then helped her roll back over. Started working my way up—calves, knees, inner thighs. By the time I reached her breasts, she was squirming.
"TJ, please—"
"Patience," I said, but my own was wearing thin. Seeing her spread out like this, slick with oil and flushed with want, was testing every bit of my control.
I finally slid inside her, and we both groaned. She was hot and slick and perfect, her body welcoming me like I belonged there.
"Move," she demanded, nails digging into my shoulders.
"Bossy," I echoed her earlier word.
"You like it."
I did. I gave her what she wanted—deep, slow thrusts that had both of us gasping. The massage oil made everything slick, our bodies sliding together with barely any friction. I hooked her knee over my hip, changing the angle, going deeper.
"Yes," she breathed. "Just like that."
I lost track of time. Could've been minutes or hours, just the two of us moving together, finding a rhythm that felt like it'd been there all along. When I felt her start to tighten around me, I reached between us, working her clit in tight circles.
"Come with me," I said against her mouth. "Want to feel you."
She came with a broken cry, and I followed her over, burying my face in her neck as I spilled inside her.
We collapsed together, both gasping, skin slick with sweat and oil.
"Holy hell," she gasped.
"Yeah."
She laughed, the sound breathless. "We're not done yet, are we?"
I lifted my head to look at her. "Not even close."
I pulled out despite her protest, kissing away her complaints. Rolled off the bed and grabbed the gift basket again.
"What are you—" She stopped when she saw what I was holding. "TJ, you can't be serious."
The vibrator hummed to life in my hand. "You said you wanted this to be different from last night. I'm just getting creative."
"That's one word for it."
I climbed back onto the bed, running the vibrator over her collarbone, between her breasts, watching her nipples tighten. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don't you dare," she breathed.
I took my time with it. Traced the vibrator down her stomach, over her hip bones, along her inner thighs. Everywhere except where she wanted it most. She was squirming within minutes, trying to angle her hips to get more contact.
"TJ, please, I need—"
I pressed it against her clit, and she nearly came off the bed again.
"Fuck!"
"That's the idea." I worked her with it, paying attention to what made her gasp, what made her moan. When I slid two fingers inside her while keeping the vibrator on her clit, she screamed.
"Oh god, oh god, I'm gonna—"
"Do it. Give me another one."
She came hard, inner walls clamping down on my fingers, whole body shaking. I gentled the vibration, drawing it out until she was pushing my hand away, over-sensitive.
Then I tossed the toy aside and slid back inside her in one thrust.
"Jesus, TJ—"
"One more," I said, starting to move. "Give me one more, darlin’."
We moved together—urgent now, desperate. I hooked her legs over my shoulders, the angle letting me go deep enough that she cried out with every thrust.
"Yes, right there, don't stop—"
"Never stopping." I gripped her hips, pulling her into each thrust. "Never letting you go."
She came a third time, taking me with her. I buried myself as deep as I could go and let go, her name falling from my lips as my load shot out with enough force that I nearly blacked out.
We collapsed in a tangle of limbs, both of us shaking, completely spent.
"I think you killed me," I said eventually.
"Yeah?"
"In the best possible way."
I managed to roll to the side, pulling her with me so I wouldn't crush her. She curled against my chest, one leg thrown over mine, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my ribs.
"TJ?"
"Hmm?"
"I think I love you."
My breath caught. Hadn’t expected those words, even though I'd been feeling them all night.
"I think I love you too," I said, brushing a damp lock of hair off her face. "Exactly as you are."
Her eyes filled with tears. "You're not allowed to make me cry after sex. That's just mean."
I kissed her instead of answering. Poured everything I was feeling into it—the love, the hope, the bone-deep certainty that I'd found something worth taking a leap of faith.
When we finally broke apart, we were both smiling.
"We're going to make this work," I said. "I don't care how crazy it sounds."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
We fell asleep tangled together, the fire burning low, snow falling soft outside the windows.
SOMETHING WARM AND heavy landed on my chest, jolting me half-awake.
I pried my eyes open to find Twinkle standing on me, tail wagging, looking incredibly pleased with herself.
"How'd you get out?" I muttered.
She licked my chin.
"The door didn't latch all the way," Tinsley mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "She probably pushed it open."
"Smart girl."
"Too smart." But Tinsley was smiling, reaching out to scratch behind the puppy's ears. "Let her stay. She’s our baby."
I pulled the blanket over all three of us. Twinkle circled twice, then curled up between us with a contented sigh.
Outside, I could hear it—the absence of sound. No wind rattling the windows. No howling through the trees. Just silence.
The storm was ending.
Tomorrow, everything would change. But tonight, I had this—Tinsley warm against me, Twinkle's soft snoring, the knowledge that this wasn't ending when the sun came up.
It was just beginning.
SUNLIGHT WOKE ME.
Real, actual sunlight streaming through the windows, bright enough to make me squint. Not the dim gray of storm clouds, but brilliant winter sunshine sparkling off fresh snow.
The storm was over.
Tinsley was still asleep, her hair fanned across my chest, one arm draped over my ribs. At some point during the night, she'd stolen most of the blanket. I didn't mind. Twinkle had migrated to the foot of the bed, sprawled on her back with all four paws in the air, snoring like a chainsaw.
I didn't want to move. Didn't want this moment to end. Didn't want to face what came next.
But my phone was buzzing on the nightstand—had been for a while, actually. The sound finally penetrated my sleep-fogged brain.
I carefully reached for it, trying not to wake Tinsley.
The screen lit up with notifications. Six missed calls from Dad. Three from Mom. Two from Emily. Multiple texts from the ranch foreman. And finally—full bars of cell service.
The outside world had found us again.
I opened the weather app. Storm system moved east overnight. Highway 89 being plowed, expected to reopen by early afternoon. Current temperature: 19 degrees. Clear skies forecast through tomorrow.
My throat went tight.
"What time is it?" Tinsley's sleepy voice made me look down.
"Almost nine."
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, then noticed my phone. Saw my face. "Cell service is back."
"Yeah."
"Oh." The single syllable carried a world of meaning. She reached for her own phone on her nightstand, checked it. "Storm's over."