by Piper Rayne
Spinning, I head toward where I keep all my pans and where I’ll find my cookie press. I’m making double my usual batch, knowing Luke will eat most of them before I can store them in festive tins, so I bring out extra pans. Not able to balance everything, I drop the press into my apron pocket. He must see my struggle, because just as a pan is about to fall, Luke is there, taking the pans from me gracefully.
“Thanks.”
He places them down on the far side of the counter, knowing from past experience that we’ll need room for ingredient mixing. “Before we start,” Luke says, wrapping me up in his arms, “give me some sugar.”
What a dork. But I love it. Rising to my tiptoes, I give him a kiss, pressing deep to explore every inch of his mouth. “Is that a cookie gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” he asks against my lips. My chin falls to my chest as laughter overtakes me.
“Idiot,” I reply playfully, pushing away from him. Reaching into my pocket, I place the forgotten cookie press beside my mixing bowl. “You ready to do this?”
“You lead and I’ll follow, baby.”
“Then let’s get cracking—”
“Some eggs,” he finishes for me.
Twenty minutes later I don’t know if I want to break down in laughter or frustration. I knew going into this that Luke wouldn’t be a big help in making the cookies, but he was driving me crazy with the light touches he was giving me and the way he kept licking his goddamn fingers every time he got dough on them. It was a sanitary blessing that I gave him his own bowl but geez, the man was testing me.
“You know what? How about you start pressing the cookies out?”
“Sure,” he replies, not taking his eyes off my ass.
“Luke.” I try to make my voice stern, but it comes out more of a chuckle. The idiot just smiles, giving me a playful wink before he picks up the cookie gun. He’s seen me and Babcia load the sphere before, so I don’t have to give him directions as he begins to spoon in the dough.
“I’m thinking the tree design first,” I hear Luke say to himself as he slides the metal plate on the cookie gun’s head. I press my lips together, finding it incredibly cute. Luke is hunched over the kitchen table, a look of pure concentration on his face as he slowly presses out dough. When enough dough is on the pan, he pulls the gun away with a flourish, nodding at his masterpiece before moving on.
Two pans are full before he catches me watching him. “Like the view?”
“I love the view. You really know how to handle your equipment.” I pause, eyebrows pumping. “Kitchen equipment.”
The corner of his lip kicks up. “Need me to show you how it’s done, baby?” We both know I don’t need to be shown how to use the press, but I go with it. Sauntering up to him, I step into his arms and grab the gun. Bending over the table, I wiggle my ass against him, taking pleasure in the small groan he makes. His hands come to my hips, pressing me harder into him. His cock is hard. My breath catches. Forgetting about the cookie press in my hand, I drop it and spin around. Luke is right there, catching me and lifting me into his arms as our mouths crash together.
His mouth is hungry, desperate and claiming as he consumes me.
“Not near the cookies,” I pant against his lips.
Luke curses, hoisting me higher in his arms and walks across the room. I feel my ass hit the edge of something. I’m too focused on grinding against him to care.
“Oh!” I cry as he sets me down, spinning me so I’m draped over the back of the sofa. My leggings are pulled down, the cool apartment air hitting my pussy lips and sending tingles up my spine. Luke’s jeans hit the floor in a clatter. His tongue is on my pussy, eating me. I’m already wet, ready for him. A finger toys with my clit, the growing pleasure causing my hips to wiggle to find just the right—
Luke stands abruptly, pressing himself to my back. I can feel his cock at my opening. He thrusts hard, entering me swiftly.
“Hold on, baby.”
“Shit, Luke.” I’m already on the brink, lost to the feelings he’s building in me. My arms shake as I try to hold myself up, but the sensations are too much. Pressing my face into a cushion, I scream my release as I shatter. Luke follows quickly after me, the pump of his hips slowing but still sending tiny bolts of electricity through my core.
He pulls out of me and I slump deeper into the sofa. I hear his chuckle and the shifting of clothes before I’m picked up again. My legs wrap around him, hands diving into his hair as I take in the man I love.
“I love you.” I kiss his nose. “And I really like baking love with you.”
Luke throws his head back in laughter, walking us back to my room. “Looks like something is rising again. We better get baking.”
The rest of the morning is spent in bed, making love, watching holiday movies between kisses and eating cookies when our stomachs begin making noises. A perfect lazy day.
10
A Snowball’s Chance
Belinda
I’m nervous. Incredibly nervous.
As we pull up to my Babcia’s house, my leg begins bouncing. This is it. It’s really happening. I can see Brendan’s truck parked on the side of street.
Luke’s hand comes down on my leg, stopping the movement. Turning to him, I bite my lip.
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I know. I’m just…”
“I get it, babe.”
“Are you not nervous?”
“Not even a little.” I grimace, hating that I’m being such a coward. “I love you, Belinda, and if they can’t see that I would do anything for you, then that’s on them. I’m here, by your side, for the long haul.”
I lean over the center console and kiss him. His words have touched a part of me that I didn’t realize I had been letting fester. He told me last night that he’s back in the city for good, but it isn’t until this moment that I truly understand he’s also with me for good too. Together we’re better, stronger.
Taking a deep breath, I smile. “Everything’s going to be fine,” I repeat.
“Stay there. I’ll come around and get you.” He’s out of the car before I can make a comment. I watch as he rounds the hood and wades into the snow pile to the side of the car until he reaches my door. Carefully, I swing my legs over the edge and step out, taking his offered hand. Our gazes stay connected as I step into him. The slam of the door barely reaches my ears, I’m so focused on Luke’s lips.
Need takes over. We’d made love only an hour ago, but it feels like days. My craving for him seems to never be satisfied. He must be thinking the same thing because a second later I’m pressed up against the car and his mouth is devouring mine. My gloved hands claw at him, needing to bring him closer but we’re hindered by our winter coats.
I get lost in our kiss, not feeling the cold or caring that we’re making out on my Babcia’s driveway. My lips try to follow Luke’s when he suddenly breaks our kiss. My lust-heavy lids don’t open fully until he curses. That’s when I hear it.
My eyes flick over Luke’s shoulder. There, in the living room bay window is my entire family. Hitting the glass and cheering with wide smiles. My Babcia looks close to tears as she shakes both hands above her head. Brendan is off to the side of the family. Before I can get a read on his mood, he disappears from view only to appear again when he yanks the front door open.
“You fucking moron. What did I tell you?” Brendan yells as he storms down the front porch steps.
“Brendan. Wait.” I try to calm him but he’s not paying attention to me.
“I told you to stay the fuck away from my sister. You’ll only break her heart.”
“I’d never do that.”
Both men are ignoring me. Luke is walking toward my brother, his hands up as if to stop him from advancing closer.
“Oh yeah, then what was the last year, asshole?”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You were the one who told me I needed to be better for her. That’s why I left.”
The
next thing to happen surprises the Christmas spirit right out of me. Never in a million years did I ever imagine my grown-ass older brother throwing a snowball right in my boyfriend’s face. Bull’s-eye.
I stop breathing. Luke stops walking. And I swear Brendan has a look of “what the fuck” on his face before he reaches for more snow. I take my gaze off Luke for one second to see my parents and Babcia gather on the porch, zipping their jackets up as they watch what has to be the most ridiculous man-fight of all time
And like Santa in a chimney, it goes down.
Snowballs begin flying through the air almost as fast as the insults.
I cry out when a snowball hits the car door inches away from my shoulder. I jump to the side. I need to take cover. There is no way I’m going to be able to break up this testosterone fight with logic. I need to let them work this out, North Pole caveman style.
As carefully as I can, I make my way around the battle zone. My mother extends a hand and pulls me into her side when I reach the front porch steps.
“Shouldn’t you be trying to stop them?” I ask her as I squeeze in close. “This is madness.”
“Hush, child. Luke’s fighting for your honor,” my Babcia speaks up from the side. The smile on her face is borderline crazy; her eyes are lit up like a Christmas tree.
“They’re acting like animals,” I cry when Brendan picks up a huge chunk of frozen snow and hurls it across the yard. It hits Luke’s leg, causing him to stagger to the side but not fall. “Someone is going to get hurt.”
No one moves. What is wrong with my family?
“Let them work it out,” my mom whispers into my ear. “I’m guessing your relationship with Luke has”—she pauses to give me a knowing look—“changed. And your brother has always been overprotective.”
She’s making sense, but I still think what’s happening in the front yard is insane. I have to grip my mother’s sleeve when the snowball fight stops and fists start being thrown instead. Luke has my brother facedown in the snow, yelling at him.
Somehow, Brendan twists his body and reverses the arm hold, pushing Luke down into the snow. The men roll around, disappearing from our sight when they hit a large snow pile. We can hear their howls of shock when snow from a nearby tree falls on them.
While I don’t condone fighting, I secretly love how Luke is outmatching my brother. Every now and then I can hear a piece of their grunted conversation and it warms my heart the amount of love in his voice—even while fighting.
“Alright, boys. That’s enough for now. You’re going to get run over by a car.” My father’s stern voice cuts through the yard.
My eyes flick back and forth between my father and the men still throwing snow at each other. They have broken apart, but they haven’t stopped hurling insults or flicking powdery snow. Slowly, my mom detaches herself from me and helps Babcia inside while I wait for Luke. He’s scowling as he makes his way toward me on the porch, ignoring my brother. So he doesn’t see the shove coming. Brendan stomps up to his side and with both hands, pushes Luke. He goes flying into the snow-covered bushes. It’s a petty schoolyard move.
“That is it,” I exclaim as I stomp down the stairs. “This is over. You”—I point to my brother—“are done sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. That man is your best friend. I don’t care what you think of the two of us together. It only matters how I feel. And I love him. So get over yourself.”
There’s a snort of laughter. I don’t blink as I slowly turn my head. The smug look on Luke’s face falls away. “And you,” I say to him, feeling powerful as his eyes round in trepidation. “You said you would talk to my brother and tell him about us. But instead you decide to fight with him.”
“Bee—”
“Don’t Bee me. It’s not going to work.” I’m trying my best to glare at him but the smile that is playing at the edges of his lips is softening me up. One side of his face is red from where Brendan hit him with a snowball and his jeans are completely soaked through. “Since you’re already covered in snow, go grab our bags and the spritz cookies from the car.” With that, I head inside, not looking back. I’m boiling with anger, but the winter cold is starting to get to me.
“Belinda. Wait.” I don’t stop. By the time my brother catches up to me, I’m untying my boots and lining them up neatly on the mat. “You have to understand. I was just looking out for you.”
I hold up my hand, stopping anything more he was going to say. “I don’t want to hear it, Brendan. You should have let me decide if Luke was enough. And he was. He always has been.”
“But look how much you’ve accomplished in the last year. Do you think you could have done that if you and Luke had gotten together?”
“You know what, no, I don’t know if everything that happened this year would have happened with Luke by my side. I also don’t know if maybe they would have happened sooner if he was with me, cheering me on. This year could have turned out better or worse. But that’s the thing you don’t get, Brendan, you can’t control things like that. Relationships don’t just happen. They get messy. Just like rainbows don’t appear without the rain. Luke and I could have gotten together and held each other back, broken up and never talked again. Or we could’ve had what we do right now, something full of potential. We’re going to fight, things won’t always be easy, but I love him.”
Brendan stares at me, something in his expression that I’ve never seen before. “So you’re taking the chance.”
Slowly, I nod. “Yeah, I’m taking the chance.” Giving him a hesitant smile, I wave my hand around the decorated room. “It’s the season where anything can happen. Nog or never, right?”
“Right,” he repeats. I open my mouth to ask him what he’s thinking but he beats me to it. “I have to go.”
“What?” Luke and I say at the same time as he enters the room.
Brendan doesn’t stop to answer us. He’s already out the door with his jacket clutched in his hand.
“That,” I say hesitantly, “was weird.”
Placing the bags down on the small side table, Luke pulls me into his arms. “I heard what you said, baby.” I drop my head onto his chest. “And as much as it pains me that we lost a year together, I’m so thankful you gave us this second chance.” Peeking up at him, I smile. “Also, did I hear you say nog or never? Your holiday puns are getting a lot better.”
Batting at his chest, I push away. “Shut up and go change or something. You’re all wet.”
“Isn’t that my line?”
“Luke! My parents are in the other room.”
“Bring me those spritz cookies and I’ll forget I heard anything,” Babcia calls.
His mouth is on mine, our laughter caught in the magic of the moment. As he walks away backward, giving me a look of love, I can’t believe how lucky I am. We spend the rest of the evening with my family, basking in old memories and toasting to new beginnings.
11
A Christmas to Remember
Luke
I wake up with a smile. Kisses being peppered all over my face as Belinda giggles. I hold her face in my hands, angling her to my lips so that I can get a proper, long kiss in to start my day. I need her sweet taste more than anything.
“Merry Christmas, Luke,” she sighs, lying down on my chest and giving me a squeeze.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
Waking up with Belinda in my arms has made this the best Christmas. I can’t imagine a future without her in it. And I know this will be the first of many.
“Let’s go see what Santa brought us.”
Her face scrunches up adorably. Pushing up from my chest, she shakes her head. “Luke.”
“Come on.” I grab her hand. We go through our morning routines, dressing quickly. I had snuck out of bed last night and put some items under the tree. There was no way I was going to let my woman wake up on Christmas day, her favorite holiday, and not have something to unwrap—other than me, of course.
“Oh my God,” she gasps as w
e enter the hallway. She can already see the extra twinkling lights I strung around her furniture. The tree is lit up and snow is gently falling through the window. It’s the perfect holiday scene. “When did you do this?”
“A good Santa stand-in never reveals his secrets.” Belinda pats my chest before making her way closer to the tree. I watch her spin in the lights, chuckling when she bends down to read the tags on the gifts. Knowing this morning won’t be completely perfect without coffee, I head over to the machine and press it to start.
Belinda makes a squeak and then runs from the room. I’m about to follow after her when she yells from the bedroom, “One second!”
I pour us both a cup and doctor hers the way she likes it. I settle down on the sofa, trying to appear casual when really, I’m humming with nerves. When Belinda comes skipping back into the room, her blond hair wild from our night together, my nervousness disappears.
“Here,” she says, thrusting a box into my chest. I laugh at her eagerness, leaning forward to place my coffee down before I spill any. My eyes stray down to her bouncing breasts. “More of that later. I want you to open your gift.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything, baby.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
Needing some of her sweetness, I capture her lips for a kiss. God, would I ever get enough of this woman? Her excitement is contagious. I rip the wrapping paper as fast as I can, letting the chunks fall to the floor. When I open the box, I have to dig through layer after layer of tissue paper. Belinda is laughing at my confusion. I’m about pounce on her, her playful mood getting a rise out of my cock, when my fingers brush up against something cold and hard.
A key rests in the palm of my hand.
“I figure”—Belinda shrugs—“why keep looking for a place when, well, we’re…” Her voice trails off. Not in uncertainty, but with hope.
“Thank you, baby.”