Never Sleigh Never, page 17
She looks up. “Oh, hi. Brie, right?”
Oh my God, she remembers me. “Yes! Fancy seeing you here.”
“Likewise. Especially at a bed and breakfast.”
“I occasionally come here for the breakfast.”
“Isn’t it customary to have a bed too?”
“Yessss,” I draw out. “Sometimes I like a staycation, to get out of the house, go somewhere new for a night.” She nods. I hope she buys it. “If you’re not busy, perhaps we could sit down, and I can tell you all about the Holly Jolly Festival.”
Her brows lift, amused. “Well, sure. Sit down.” She waves to the chair across from her. “Tell me about the Holly Jolly Festival.”
“The Holly Jolly Festival is a tradition that spans decades here in Mount Holly. The entire town joins in the Christmas celebration. Over the years, it’s evolved into something bigger, grander. And this year, especially, will be the biggest festival of them all.”
“Do you find it difficult competing with another Christmas carnival?”
“Not at all.” Because I’m going to kick Logan’s ass. He wouldn’t know a Christmas carnival or festival if it smacked him across the face. This is my territory. He may have won the battle with a hockey tournament, but I will win the Christmas war. “The townspeople of Mount Holly have grown to love the Holly Jolly Festival, and every year, their support grows more and more. I know they will do the same this year. The carnival is new. They don’t know what the town wants or needs in a Christmas celebration.”
She leans forward. “Is it true you and Logan have a history?”
What’s with the Logan questions? This is supposed to be about the Holly Jolly Festival. “Yes. We’ve known each other for quite a while. Since we were kids, actually.”
“And how has that affected your festival?”
Finally, back to the festival. “Well, if I had to say so, I don’t think it’s affected it one bit.” Unless you count that every time I see him, I want to strangle him… or kiss him. Hard.
“Do you think he’ll draw a crowd?”
“Of course. He’s a local hockey legend. He is charming, charismatic, and oddly thoughtful. And he’s a wonderful dad. So sweet to his daughter. It would be hard for people not to like him.” Shit. Shit. That’s too much. “However, the Holly Jolly Festival should have an amazing turnout. We’re projecting a thousand more visitors than in previous years.”
“That’s wonderful. It’s reassuring to hear that small-town festivals haven’t lost their charm.”
“Yes! My sentiments exactly. I plan on doing everything in my power to not only keep the tradition going but to make it bigger and better each year.”
Val strolls by, shooting me a subtle are you done yet? look. I shake my head.
Emma peers over her shoulder and waves her over. “Excuse me? Can I order breakfast? The lemon ricotta blueberry pancakes sound divine.”
“Yes. Certainly. I’ll get those going for you right away.” Val scribbles the order, throws me an apologetic glance, and retreats.
Emma directs her attention to me. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”
“Thank you for sitting down with me to chat about the Holly Jolly Festival. I hope it’s inspiring enough to make it onto your blog. The townsfolk would love it. They’d think they were famous.”
“Yes. It’s a wonderful story. It was nice to meet you again, Brie.” She holds out her hand for me to shake.
“Same.” She loosens her grip and exits the room.
Once she’s out of sight, Val slides back in, soft-eyed. “Sorry, Brie. I didn’t want her thinking we were slow on service in case she mentions the inn on her blog.”
“It’s fine.” I sigh. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
“I hope you get the article you want.”
“Me too.” I might get something, but I don’t know how much of it will be with regard to the festival since my big mouth can’t stop turning every conversation into one about Logan. And if I’m not careful, my heart’s about to follow.
Twenty-Two
Naughty or Nice
Logan
To say the hockey tournament was a success is an understatement. All weekend from midafternoon until well past dusk, the stands were packed with people cheering on every team in the tournament. The entire town of Mount Holly shut down and came out for a weekend of hockey. I couldn’t have asked for a better kickoff to the carnival. To my surprise, Brie was even in the stands. It was hard to keep my eyes off her as I skated around the rink. Normally, I’m not the guy who gets distracted while on the ice, but there she was in the winter sun, brown hair loose over her shoulders, laughing at something Willa said, and my chest went warm in a way that felt… dangerous. We locked eyes for half a second. It hit me like a clean check. God, I’d missed that feeling.
After we won our first game, I scanned the crowd for her, but she was gone. When I caught up with Willa, she told me Brie left to talk to the Christmas blogger, and an unfamiliar hollow ache settled in my chest. I was hoping to see her and talk to her. Hell, I would have even argued with her if it got me near her. Maybe that’s karma for slipping away after the Holly Jolly tree lighting—Brooke’s favorite tradition at home—but seeing her on stage knocked the air out of me. I had to leave.
We played one more game before the tournament came to an end. It was a close one, but we squeaked out a win with a top-shelf rip from Carson at the buzzer. Back at my truck, I’m tossing my hockey equipment into the back when something black shoved under the seat draws my attention. Reaching under, I pull out a black top hat. Brie’s snowman. It’s naked without it. And Mount Holly doesn’t need naked snowmen.
I hop in my truck and drive past her house, but all the lights are off. As I drive past the Crooked Reindeer, her SUV isn’t in the parking lot. I decide to check one more place. I pull onto the festival grounds, and everything is dark. Off in the distance, a soft glow illuminates a window in one of the buildings. As I drive closer, Brie’s SUV comes into view. Parking next to her vehicle, I grab the top hat from my passenger seat and climb out. Christmas music plays softly from inside the building marked Santa’s Workshop. Snowflakes flutter down from the sky, calmer than my erratic pulse. Lifting my hand, I rap my knuckles against the wood. I don’t know why I’m here or why I have to give the top hat to Brie now, but I just want to see her. Even if it’s for a second before she slams the door in my face. I want to inhale her sweet lavender scent so I can go home and dream about it.
The door opens a few seconds later. Brie’s whiskey-colored eyes light up. “Logan. What are you doing here?”
Relief washes over me. No bitter words spewed my way. But she asked me a question, and I need to answer. “Well, when I went to exchange the stolen goods that you failed to come to, I forgot this.” I hold up the black top hat.
“Oh. Um. Thanks.” She plucks the hat from my grasp.
“So why didn’t you show up that night?”
A gust of wind sends snowflakes swirling around us. Her shoulders scrunch as she fights a shiver. “Come in. It’s a little too cold to heat the outdoors.” She opens the door wider and motions for me to come inside. Once I get through the doorway, the door closes with a soft click.
Inside, a small portable heater sits in the corner of the one-room wooden building. Along one wall sits a fake fireplace with stockings on the mantel. A big red high-back chair sits in another corner next to a fully decorated Christmas tree. Wrapping paper and ribbons cover the floor and table. She sets the top hat on the table next to a wrapped present and bites her lip. “Would you believe I was washing my hair?”
I shake my head. “Cut the bullshit. For once, I actually thought we were moving past all this. Whatever our history is, it was years ago. It’s time to get over it.”
She throws her hands up in the air. “Easy for you to say, Mr. Gets Everything He Wants With the Snap of His Fingers.”
“Not everything,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
“Not everything,” I say, steadier. “So… why didn’t you come?”
She turns, then faces me again like she’d changed her mind mid-spin. “Because I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“About your festival and my carnival?”
“No.” Her gaze searches mine, raw and unguarded. “About hating you. I’ve held onto it so long it felt like truth. But lately?” She swallows. “Lately all I want to do is—”
“What?” I stepped closer, heat from the little heater brushing my back. “Say it.”
“Kiss you.”
All the air is sucked from my lungs. I can’t say anything. I can’t breathe. The only telltale sign I’m alive is the thumping in my chest.
“Please say something,” she whispers.
I step closer so we’re chest to chest. Reaching out, I clasp my hands around her cheeks and crash my lips to hers. My chest swells with something that feels like the sun’s first rays bursting over the horizon. No shocks of electricity or dramatic crescendos, but something softer, more intimate—like finding your favorite song again after years of forgetting it. Her hands slide up my chest. I’m convinced she’s going to push me away, call me an asshole. Instead, she fists the fabric, holding on like a lifeline. At least it’s true for one of us. I pull back a breath, resting my forehead against hers. “I wish I had kissed you the night after the bar.”
“Me too.” This time she tugs me to her and presses her lips to mine. It’s soft, then hungry. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you forget your own name. Fuck, I need her. More than ever right now. She tears apart the buttons of my fleece jacket and slides her hands over my shoulders until it hits the floor with a thud. With desperate fingers, my hands roam across her back, playing with the hem of her sweater. Walking backward, we knock into a table. Glancing over her shoulder I spot wrapping paper, ribbon, tape, and scissors on the surface. With a swoop of my arm, I shove everything off, and it scatters all over the floor like confetti. I hoist her onto the empty table.
“Hey, that’s my—”
I silence her with a kiss, my hands sliding to her waist as I nestle between her thighs. “Worth it,” I mutter against her lips.
Her legs hook around my hips, pulling me flush against her. I groan at the contact, burying my face against her neck as she grinds against me.
“You think you’re going on Santa’s nice or naughty list?” I mutter against her heated skin.
“Definitely naughty.” My gaze lifts to hers and she pushes her lips to mine in a ravenous kiss. She’s as desperate as I am, and it’s never made me feel more alive.
We’re nothing but frantic hands and limbs, tearing at each other’s clothes. Our lips fuse together, only breaking apart so I can lift her shirt over her head. Her fingers curl around the hem of my hoodie and pull it up, taking my shirt with it. Since her arms aren’t long enough, I help her the rest of the way. I cup her breast over her red lace bra, and she moans into my mouth.
I want this. God, I want her. I’ve been craving Brie for weeks, and yet—I need to be sure. Pulling back just enough, I whisper against her lips, “If this is too much, tell me and I’ll stop.”
Her answer is immediate. Fingers sliding into my hair, tugging me closer. “Don’t you dare stop.”
That’s all the permission I need. Heat pounds through me as my mouth trails down her neck, across her collarbone, tasting her skin. She grinds against me like she can’t get close enough.
“Logan,” she breathes, her voice half warning, half plea.
My control snaps like a brittle candy cane. I curl my fingers around the cup of her bra and tug down, exposing her hard nipple to the cool air. She inches closer to me, rocking her denim-covered pussy over my straining cock. Now it’s my turn to moan. I’ve dreamed of touching her like this, and hands down, the reality is much better. I brush my thumb over her stiff peak, and she arches into my touch. My dick twitches at how responsive she is. Breaking away, I drop my head to her chest, placing kisses over her soft, smooth skin. I swirl my tongue over her stiff nipple, and she sucks in a sharp breath. She leans back on her hands as I continue to nip and suck on one tit while my hand plays with the other.
She moans. “It feels so good. You’re supposed to be my enemy.”
I grin against her skin. “Then I’m the worst kind of enemy. Because I want to worship you with my mouth. One place in particular.” When I look up, her gaze is locked on mine, wide and expectant. Slowly, I drag my hands down her stomach, every inch leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When I reach the button of her jeans, I pause, silently asking. Her mouth parts, her breath catches, and then she nods.
That’s all I need.
I pop the button and tug the denim down her hips. She lifts herself off the table, helping me shove them the rest of the way until they hit the floor. My cock jumps when I see her panties—red, the same ones from Sip and Sleigh. Like she planned this, though I know she didn’t.
“Fucking gorgeous,” I rasp, my gaze roaming over her. She bites her lip, fighting a smile, but I see the flush creeping up her throat.
I press my thumb to the fabric covering her, circling slowly. It darkens with each pass. “Already so wet for me.” Reaching down, I undo the button of my jeans to give my straining dick more room.
“Yes,” she moans, head tipping back.
Bending over, I hook my finger around the fabric and tug it to the side, exposing her glistening pussy. With my hand on her other thigh, I open her up wider. I lower myself to her spread legs and press my lips to her inner thigh, tasting her skin as I move closer. Licking, sucking, teasing until her breath comes in shallow gasps. Her scent wraps around me, thick and heady. “You want me to lick your pussy?”
“Yes.” Her response comes out breathy.
I trail my nose along her thigh, stopping just shy of her center, then repeat the torture on the other side. Drawing it out. Savoring her. Melting the Ice Queen, I think with a wicked grin.
“Logan, please.” She bucks her hips, begging me to lick her.
“I love that you’re just as frantic as I am.” I spread her open, exposing her clit. Using the flat of my tongue, I run it up her center.
“Oh yes!” she gasps, her entire body shivering.
From between her legs, my gaze wanders up her torso, watching her tits rise and fall with every ragged breath, until I meet her eyes. They’re wild, pleading.
“Shhh. You have to be quiet. Someone walking by could hear you.”
I continue to lap at her pussy, making sure not an inch of her goes untouched. Her fingers clench in my hair, guiding me exactly where she wants me. My dick is suffocating in the confines of my jeans.
“Oh god! Logan!” she moans. “Fuck me with your tongue.”
I pull away and stand.
“Hey!” she protests, propping herself on her elbows, flushed and panting. “I was enjoying that.”
“Yeah, and I told you to be quiet.” I lift a brow.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip before slowly sliding it free. “What are you going to do about it?”
I glance around the room, searching for something—anything—that’ll keep her quiet. My gaze lands on a bag of plush toys in the corner. Perfect. I pluck a reindeer from the top and carry it back to where Brie waits, her chest heaving, eyes dark with want.
“Open up and bite down on this.”
Her brows pinch together. “But that’s for the kids who visit Santa.”
I shake the reindeer, and its legs flop back and forth. “Do you want me to lick your pussy, or would you rather argue with me?” She stares at me for a beat before her gaze drifts to the reindeer. As each second ticks away, I’m convinced she’s going to tell me to go to hell and kick me out. “Do you trust me?” Her gaze flicks to me, and my heart thunders in my chest. Maybe I’ve gone too far. Slowly, her lips part.
Relief and heat flood me at once. My mouth curves into a grin. “Good girl.”
I slide the toy between her teeth, the plush legs resting against her flushed cheeks, and then I drop to my knees. My palms brace her thighs, pushing them wider, and I lower my head, continuing my exploration of her pussy with my tongue. Using the tip, I circle the edge of her opening before shoving inside her.
Her muffled moan sounds behind the cotton stuffing. Her hand goes between her legs, and she rubs her clit while I fuck her with my tongue. “Mmm.”
Her hips buck, and I do it again. Glancing up, her back is arched, and her other hand pinches her nipple. Fuck, I love she’s giving herself pleasure while I’m doing the same. My cock strains painfully in my jeans. With my free hand, I shove them down enough to free myself, pre-cum already leaking. Using it as lube, I slowly stroke myself.
“Hold these. I want your clit.” I guide her hand to her panties, and she holds them aside while I take over. With my lips sealed around her clit, I suck. Hard. Her muffled moans vibrate through the room as she writhes under my tongue. With a shudder, her orgasm tears through her as she cries out against the plush reindeer. Her chest heaves as she props up on her elbows, staring down at me with glazed eyes. I don’t stop, licking her through every aftershock, savoring the way she trembles under my mouth.
She rips the reindeer from between her teeth. Her voice is hoarse but sure. “I want to see you.”
I rise slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. She scoots closer to the edge of the table, her legs parting as I stand to my full height. My cock is hard and aching in my fist as I stroke myself. Her gaze drops instantly, and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
“I want to touch you,” she whispers, nudging my hand away, replacing it with hers.
My dick throbs the second her delicate fingers close around me, and I groan. “Fuck, Brie.” I clutch the table for balance. “Spit in your hand.”
She obeys before going back to stroking me. Her thumb sweeps across the crown. The friction makes me hiss through my teeth. “God, you feel so good jacking me off.” Leaning in, I kiss her hungrily, her moans spilling into my mouth as we touch each other.
