“He does,” I agreed. We both admired it while Matt, with way less effort than me, hefted the tree on top of the little Volkswagen Beetle. The car was so small that the tree hung off the front and the back.
“You would keep that one. There’s a smart girl.”
“You needto use the larger colorful lights,” I instructed Matt as we walked back toward my shop.
His mouth twisted in a scowl. “I don’t want something that looks like it was vomited from the nineteen fifties in my penthouse.”
Just when I thought Matt couldn’t get any sexier, seeing him sling Christmas trees had really awakened all my Christmas fantasies. Now he was carrying the tree I had picked out for him down the street.
“I have some extra-special glass-blown snowmen ornaments,” I told him.
He grabbed my hand, enveloping my smaller one in his larger one.
“If you absolutely refuse to have the most perfect lights in existence, then the glass ornaments will look nice with the small white lights,” I chattered.
“Maybe you’ll have to come over and help me trim my tree.”
“You make it sound so dirty,” I said with a snort-giggle as I unlocked my shop.
Matt pretended to be offended. “Me? I was just offering a wholesome evening with holiday classics, Christmas cookies, and decorating a tree. You’re the one with your mind in the gutter. Though,” he added, leaning in to brush kisses like snowflakes on the back of my neck, “I might lick the frosting off your Christmas cookies if you let me.”
My cookies were getting pretty good and frosted.
It was probably a bad idea to let him in the shop. I knew where it would lead.
But this wasn’t Halloween, when you shouldn’t invite the big, scary, sexy vampire inside. This was Christmas, when you left out cookies and milk to convince a strange man to break into your house and make all your Christmas dreams come true.
Matt dropped the tree outside and took two steps over the threshold. Then he was on me. He smelled faintly of pine. His body was hard, and his mouth was soft as he kissed me hungrily.
He wasn't the only one who was hungry. I sucked on his tongue as if I were starving for it and let out a little moan as he pressed into me, the hard length of his body pressed up against my own. His hands rested on my hips, but the touch did not stay chaste for long. As the kiss deepened, and my breath sped up, his hands skimmed under the hem of my sweater, leaving tingles behind as he pushed it up.
I backed a step, not to get away from him but so I could get some leverage on the situation.
If he was going to unwrap me like a Christmas present, he was going to do it properly. I pulled him along, and within a couple of steps, the edge of my ass hit the countertop.
Matt stepped right into my space, hiking up my skirt in one hand, bunching the fabric so that it rode up and exposed the length of my leg.
Our eyes met, his blue ones seeming to bore through me with his hunger. I nodded, and he ducked his head, his hand leaving the fabric of my skirt to return to where he had pushed up my sweater. His mouth fell on one of my nipples, and I sucked in a breath. My own hands fell to his platinum white hair, tangling in it as he sucked on my tits like he was trying to win an award.
“Matt…” I murmured, and I felt his lips stretch slightly as he grinned.
I wanted more air, more freedom to move, and I pulled off my sweater, gasping as the cool air hit my skin. Now that the dratted sweater was gone, he returned his attention down below. His free hand moved up from my knee to my thigh to slip over the fabric of my panties.
I gasped anew as he rubbed my clit through the soft fabric.
Matt pulled himself off my tits long enough to say, “You're so wet for me.”
“You really frost my Christmas cookies,” I panted.
He smirked then bent his head to continue his good work, this time taking my other nipple between his lips and laving around it in slow delicious circles.
Down below, his hand matched the movement, teasing me with aching slowness. I whimpered, stepping to the side slightly to spread my knees to give him access and permission.
To hell with this teasing. I wanted to be touched, to be fucked.
“Are you just playing around with me, or am I going to finish things off myself?” I gasped, though I would totally rather have his cock than try to take care of things myself.
But then his hand shifted and found the top part of my panties to slide down, skin against my wet pussy.
