My Favorite Holidate: A Standalone Holiday Romance

Wilder

It’s never a bad time hanging out with Leo and enjoying a glass of scotch as the stars wink on and off in the inky night sky. You can see forever here in Evergreen Falls, far away from the city. But when the telltale signs of snow—a pinkish-orange tint to the night—burn brighter, I start to wonder if Fable is back in the room and if the bachelorette party has ended. The answer comes when Leo looks at his phone then turns to me with a grin. “I’ve been summoned.”

And that answers that. “Then you should go.” I glance at the empty tumblers. “I’ll take them in.”

With a quick thanks, he’s practically off and running.

I take the glasses, bring them inside and leave them in the sink, then head down the hall, the day playing on a loop in my head, from the tense morning phone call that threw me for a loop, to making seven-layer bars with my daughter, to decorating a tree with Fable and Mac in an afternoon that was lovelier than any afternoon had a right to be.

That afternoon is making me rethink if I might be wrong. If something that started with a lie could actually turn into something good.

Even in spite of all the evidence I’ve seen. Even in spite of my mother’s happiness without romance. Of my father’s self-destructive ways. Of my own track record that has sent me here today. I’m nearly forty, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever been in love.

Except…I think I might be now. The way my heart thunders around Fable scares the hell out of me, but I also can’t stay away from her. When I reach the door, I stop then spin around and return to the kitchen. My Fable likes to have fun in bed. She likes to play. And she loves mint so I swing open the refrigerator door and grab a fresh canister of peppermint whipped cream. When I’ve returned to the suite I rap once on the door. Sultry music plays, its own telltale sign.

“Come in,” she calls out.

When I swing it open, I hiss out a breath. She’s spread out on the bed like the most gorgeous gift. “Merry fucking Christmas to me,” I say awed at the sight.

She smiles, the kind that says she’s pulled this off. She fucking did. “I thought we could have our own Christmas-tree-decorating contest. Do I look like a tree?”

“The sexiest tree I’ve ever seen,” I say as my gaze travels up and down my naughty Christmas elf. She’s wrapped a string of Christmas lights around her shoulders, across her breasts, over her stomach, and then around her hips. Red, purple, pink, green, and blue lights flash on and off against her pale flesh in the soft lighting of the room. Outside, snow is falling.

Inside, I am.

I advance toward her, mesmerized by the soft haze of lights dancing on her skin. Lucky lights. “Do you know that the pinks and the purples and the blues reflect on your skin?”

Fable glances down at the light show on the canvas of her body. “I do like to find new ways to use things,” she says, reminding me of something else I adore about her—her mind, the way she sees the world, and how she creates new ways of using things.

“Your mind is a beautifully filthy and creative place, and I fucking love it,” I say and I’m one step closer to uttering words I can’t take back. Words I’m not sure I should say. But words that pound in my head and heart.

When I reach her, though, I swallow those emotions and focus on the practical—her pleasure. I set the peppermint whipped cream canister on the foot of the bed and run my hands from her ankles up to her knees.

She arches her hips ever so subtly as she glances at the canister. “I see you’re into Christmas kink too, Mr. Blaine.”

Those two words—Mr. Blaine—crank me up. Maybe I do enjoy power games…or perhaps I simply enjoy everything with her. “I’m into you.” That’s a small start, and her eyes brighten at those two words. Then I add, “You like mint and I like to give you everything you want.”

“You’re very good at it,” she says as I draw circles with my thumb along the outside of her knee.

“What exactly are your plans for that mint?”

I gaze at the sensual light show playing on her body. “Who knows anymore? Your lights trump my mint,” I say, running one hand farther up her thigh.

She gasps, then shudders.

My god, it’s such an unparalleled thrill to watch her reaction. To witness her getting turned on as she’s wrapped up in lights. With each move I make she parts her legs a little wider.

“You’re an overachiever, Mr. Blaine. Pretty sure we could do both,” she says.

That’s clear. She wants the mint and what Fable wants she gets—because I like to give it to her. “We can do everything,” I say.

For a long time. For well past the holidays. Do you want that too?

But I don’t ask that yet. That’s far too vulnerable. And besides, she’s shifting gears quickly, nodding to the big arched window with a view of the mountains—a view that’s starting to turn white. “It’s snowing.”

I glance at the windows, but even the view of falling snow—one of my favorite sights in the world—has nothing on her. “It is,” I say, touching her thighs, then running a finger along a pink light that’s perilously close to her perfect pussy.

“The first time we went to dinner, I’m betting you were already imagining fucking me while it snowed.”

A laugh bursts from me. “Am I that transparent?”

She bobs a naked shoulder, a pleased smile curving her lips. “Maybe.”

“Guilty as charged then,” I say, dropping my face to kiss her thighs. What did I ever do to deserve even a brief romance with this naughty angel? She ignites something carnal in me. Something greedy. My voice comes out in a low rumble as I rise up and reach for the end of the strand of lights resting on her hips. “Fable, I need to take these lights off you. I need to kiss every inch of your skin. I need to make you come countless times. Because this”—I nod toward the window and the white flakes floating down—“is a fantasy, but you are my real fantasy.”

Her breath seems to come faster. “Take them off right now.”

In seconds, I unwrap her, and once she’s free of the lights, she throws her arms around me and whispers, “You’ve become mine too.”

There’s a vulnerability in her eyes that I’m not sure I deserve, but one I still desperately want. I can’t let her be the only one to say the hard thing, though, so I cup her cheek. “I meant everything I said last night right here in this bed. I have wanted you for so long. For more than a year. You’ve been front and center in my mind. I’ve been thinking of you, and craving you, and wanting you. You’ve been like a dream I didn’t think I could ever catch.”

Her breath halts, then comes in a soft stutter. “You’re not dreaming,” she says, her fingers playing with the ends of my hair. “You’re awake and I’m all real. All yours, Wilder.”

My chest is so hot. My skin is like the surface of Mercury, but it’s because my heart is on fire. I can’t take it anymore. I claim her mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. I pour all my feelings into it—all the emotions that I’m terrified to say, but I’m even more terrified of not saying them soon.

And soon I will.

When I break the kiss, she tugs at my shirt.

I take the hint and strip it off, then grab a big towel from the en suite. “Lie down on this,” I say as I return to the bed, then move the towel under her.

I settle into my favorite place—between her legs. “This afternoon you showed off your tree-decorating skills. Now I’ll show off mine.”

Her lips part in naughty delight. “Will you now?”

“Yes, even though I already have an advantage. My tree is the sexiest tree ever.” I take the canister from the foot of the bed and point it toward the hollow of her throat, spraying a dollop of cream there. She shudders. I dip my face and lick it off with a throaty groan.

She gasps softly. I kiss her throat once more, making sure I get every last drop.

I spray some whipped cream on her tits, a generous dollop for each nipple. Pulling back, I take a good, long look at the gorgeous woman naked before me. “You are the perfect holiday treat,” I say.

She gives me a saucy smile. “Better taste me and make sure.”

“Quality control and all,” I say dryly.

I flick my tongue across her gorgeous breasts, licking the treat off her, savoring every single taste till she’s moaning, “That feels so good.”

“And I’m not even close to being done.”

“I never think you are, Wilder. Never. You’re insatiable,” she says.

I raise my face and look her straight in the eyes I love. “You make me insatiable.”

Then I decorate her stomach with swirls and lines all the way down to her belly button, and I take my sweet time licking it all off. When I’m done, I climb over her and gaze down at the redheaded beauty who’s become the center of my world. Who makes my heart thunder and my mind spark. And who makes my soul feel settled. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

It’s not quite saying I’ve fallen in love with you but it’s close. So close.

“Everything,” she answers decisively, then her gaze strays to the Christmas tree in the room.

As it flashes on and off, I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me sooner, but I’m glad it’s occurred to me now. “Do you know what good girls get for Christmas?”

“What do they get?”

“They get fucked under the tree.”

The look in her eyes is wild anticipation, and I have half a mind to carry her off the bed and sit her down under the tree right now, but first things first. In the en suite, I grab another towel and wipe the remnants of the whipped cream off her.

When that’s done, she gathers the fleece blanket from the bed and spreads it underneath the tree, then lies down on her side, giving me the sexiest come hither look ever. “Mr. Blaine, why don’t you tell Santa I’ve been very, very good?”

If there has ever been a better gift for anyone on earth than this woman lying naked, waiting for me, I won’t believe it. “Ohh, he knows. He already told me to give you multiple orgasms tonight.”

“He must have read my Christmas list.”

Heat floods every damn cell in my body, and I give her a long, lingering look as I grab a condom. “I did, honey. I did.”

I snag some extra pillows from the bed then join her on the floor, positioning the pillows under her back so it’s comfy for my woman.

I take a beat to stare at the beauty in front of me, here for me, opening up for me in every way. I want to deserve her. I want to earn her. Most of all, I don’t want to hurt her by saying something too soon that I can’t back up. But I think I can try with her. I think I can toss out all my old beliefs and embrace new ones.

But I need to be sure I won’t fail.

First, though, I need to fuck her good. I line up my hips flush against her and sink inside. My brain scrambles, my nerves firing with incandescent pleasure.

She’s tight and hot and all mine. And when she whispers my name in a shuddery breath, I nearly say fuck I love you.

I grit my teeth and swallow down the dangerous words.

Then she’s quiet, and I am too as I ease out, then slide back in, letting her feel every inch of me.

Her breath catches, and her eyes go a little glossy. “It’s so good with you, Wilder. Everything’s so good with you.” It sounds like a confession, like she’s on the verge of something. Of falling too? Could she be? That would be too wonderful. I can barely let myself entertain the possibility that all these feelings could be returned the same way.

But I have a job to do—making her come—and I won’t fail at this one either. “Wrap your legs tight around me. I need to fuck you deep. Need to take you hard. Need to show you how much you mean to me.”

She complies, hooking her ankles around my ass, and then demands, “Show me.”

I fuck her slow, and deep, and passionately. I kiss her as I swivel my hips. I whisper sweet everythings as I thrust. I tell her she’s beautiful, incredible, absolutely amazing as I touch her.

I’m almost saying it. Almost, but not quite.

Still, I want her to feel it—the strength of this connection between us. I want her to believe it can last well beyond the holidays. Right now, I want her to lose control for me. I rise up on my knees, slide my hand between her thighs, and play with her clit till she’s coming hard and fast then begging for another one.

All too happy to oblige, I hook her ankles over my shoulders so she can barely move. Her arms loop around my neck and her wild eyes say she’s holding on tight. In no time, I find a rhythm that has her moaning and begging.

Our bodies slide together. Her fingers tangle in my hair. Her eyes hold mine with such intensity and desire that words nearly burst from me. I can hardly believe that in a few short nights I’ve done the thing I swore I wouldn’t do. I’ve fallen completely in love with her, with no hope for coming out.

Pleasure seizes my body, and I’m lost.

“Give it to me,” she urges and she’s taking all the control, arching up, rocking against me, dragging her nails down my back and squeezing my ass.

I’m desperate to give her another, but my own climax has seized control of me. I’m shaking and shuddering, but then she’s crying out too. Like my pleasure has sent her over the edge again.

The world goes offline and I’m not sure I want to come back to it.

Not here, under the Christmas tree, as if the rest of the world has gone to sleep, and it’s only us.

A little later we’re in bed, under the covers, her fuzzy socks on as she rubs her feet against my leg. Snow falls gently beyond the cool glass of the window.

“Remember that first dinner?” she asks, her voice fond as she reminisces about an event that was only a few weeks ago.

“Of course,” I say. I remember everything about her.

“I can still hear what you said about snow when you look out the window,” she says.

“Tell me. Tell me what I said.” I remember it too, but I want to hear the words crossing her lips.

She turns to face me. “It’s romantic. When you look out the window and you see the flakes falling and everything goes hush, it makes you want to spend the day, and the night, with…that special someone.” Her voice catches on those last three words, and her mouth is soft.

My heart is beating so fast, so loud. She has to hear it.

“I feel it,” she adds in a bare whisper.

My brave woman takes the first step.

I cup her cheek, look her in the eyes, and say, “There’s nothing fake about us.”