Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
We’re here in the local community center, decorating it for the Santa’s workshop event. Normally, my parents decorate this with the help of staff from the ranch. But they were both feeling under the weather so I told them I would head it up. They looked doubtful I could do it until I reassured them that Cassie would be there.
She rolls her eyes at me, not aware of how much it makes my hand ache to swat her ass. Damn, I’d love to turn it just as red as that dress is.
I probably have a lot of fantasies for a virgin, but they all revolve around one person. One woman that I want to discover everything with. It’d take me years to explore them with her and that’s before you even get to her fantasies. Dammit, she’s not fantasizing about you.
“Where do you want these decorations, Cassie?” Michael asks, bringing up a cardboard box for her inspection.
I see the way his gaze travels down her figure as she tells him about her plans for the community center this year.
While she talks, I catch his eye. I shoot him a glare that promises him the greatest bodily pain of his life if he ever glances in her direction again. He got the memo because he quickly excuses himself to continue unloading the decorations.
The hours pass quickly with Cassie in charge. She’s a force of nature and fearless leader. She’s determined to make my parents proud with this latest workshop and it’s obvious from the way she fusses over every detail that she’s throwing herself into the task. Not for the first time I wonder what a Christmas season with her would be like. A real one where we’re together as a couple.
“What do you think?” She asks as she steps back from the makeshift stage where Santa and Mrs. Claus are supposed to greet the eager children.
“Looks…” My voice trails off and I nod at her decorations. She added fake garland and ribbons to the fake fireplace in the corner and updated the colors on the Christmas tree. They’re now silver and blue, colors that would make my dad smile.
She sighs at my lack of clear feedback and pulls out her phone, snapping several pictures. “I’ll show Mom and Dad when I get home.”
“I’ll warm up the truck,” I tell her. It’s easier for me to do stuff for Cassie than it is for me to say the things I’m thinking.
She drove herself here, but there’s a light accumulation of snow on the ground tonight. Since she hates to drive in the snow, I offered to take her home in my truck. I don’t know which of us was more surprised when she accepted.
As soon as I’m done, I hustle back to the community center. I pause long enough to stomp my boots on the rug inside the door before I move back into the cozy auditorium. Pride fills me when I think about how this is all Cassie.
She’s already back to fussing over the decorations. She’s on a ladder, trying to adjust the tree topper. It makes me smile to see the way she’s so obsessed with getting every detail just right for my parents.
“You about ready to go, little girl?” The term of endearment slips out before I can stop it. Dammit, this is why I keep my mouth shut around her because if I don’t, she’ll know the truth. See it written all over me.
She yelps in surprise and the rickety ladder she’s standing on wobbles. She loses her balance and lets go of the ladder.
I don’t even have time to think. My body moves on instinct, my hands going around her hips to pluck her from midair. I set her feet on the ground but still don’t let go of her. The air around us is charged and crackles with every breath I take.
There’s an old Christmas song on the radio. Some classic that my parents always dance to every time it plays. The only thing I can think about is how right it feels to have her in my arms. This is where she’s meant to be. She couldn’t see it a decade ago but maybe she can now.
For one beautiful moment, everything is exactly how it’s meant to be. She’s in my arms and letting me hold her close. Her vanilla scent teases me, the way it always does. Before the end of the night, I’ll be pumping my cock and whispering her name into the darkness.
Then she whispers, “Thank you.”
I love her. I want to tell her that. I want her to know that it’s been ten fuckin’ years without her and I’ve still saved myself like some lovesick fool. Does she ever think about me when she’s touching that pretty little pussy of hers? Is it my name she calls when she comes all tangled up in her bed sheets? Fuck, please let it be me. It has to be me.