I cup his jawline in my hands and tilt his face up. “Closer, Quinnie.”
He pushes to his feet. “You need closer, baby? I’ll give you so damn close, you won’t be able to tell where you end and I start.”
I tilt my head up now, looking into his darkened blues. “Good.”
“Careful what you wish for,” he groans, nipping at the soft spot beneath my ear.
I roll my head to the side with a low moan. “Quin?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s tinsel in the top drawer.”
He chuckles. “’Bout time I got to make use of that old canopy bed.”
Nerves fling electricity through my veins at the thought of being helpless to his whims. And when he kneels again and pushes my thighs apart, running his tongue through my center, I can’t fucking wait to be tethered to his gigantic bed.
Left after just one torturous sweep of his tongue, I’m gathered in his arms again before being splayed out on the bed. As he crawls over me, holding his weight above me with his hands, the clock ticks over.
12:01 a.m.
“Fuck . . .” he groans. “Merry Christmas, Celeste.”
The top drawer rattles a beat later. Lengths of shining, crinkly tinsel wrap around his fist. I close my eyes for just a moment, and when I open them, Quin has a Santa hat on. But the merry expression on his face has slipped to something much more feral.
I suck in a breath and tug at the tinsel in his hand. “Knock me off the nice list, sweet man.”
And he does.
Epilogue
QUINTON
Twelve months later . . . Christmas Morning.
Sleigh bells jingle as Maise chatters away to Caleb up on the driver’s bench seat. This year, she’s taken sleigh rides up a notch, insisting on being co-pilot. Co-driver?
Hell, I’m not complaining. I have a beautiful woman by my side, her head resting on my shoulder. Her smiles have been mine for twelve months, along with her soft touches and loving ways and words that have made the last year incredible. And I have a plan to make sure Maise and I get to keep her.
Hank has been doing so great in his new setting. The first two months were an adjustment, but he settled in, and his condition has been a little better. CC visits twice a week after her classes at the elementary school. After painting the backdrops for last year’s Christmas play, she was commissioned to run mixed media classes for the school.
And that studio of her mom’s? Well, I may have gone a little nuts with the renovation on that one...
“You’re quiet, Quinnie,” Celeste says softly, each syllable brushing past the shell of my ear as she looks up.
“Just thinking, baby.”
“Yeah, what about?” She glances to Maise, who is still talking to Caleb like he’s the one getting the rundown on Nickel’s new harness and how to guide a sleigh over the fields Caleb grew up on.
“Nothing much, just errands.”
“What errands do you have to run on Christmas Day, MacKelvie?” She raises one elegant eyebrow. Still calls me by my last name when she’s being a sassy woman.
I chuckle. “You’ll see.”
“Hmmm. What are you up to?” Her eyes narrow and she sits up. I slide my arm around her shoulders, dotting a kiss to her temple.
Wouldn’t you like to know, baby.
