by R. Holmes
“This is nowhere near finished, little traitor. No more holding back.” He watches me, tracing a finger up and down my wet folds. When I shift to get him to go further, he gives me a smirk that says he knows exactly what I’m angling for. “Let me show you just how wild you make me. I want you to come on my tongue over and over.”
I give a wobbly nod, agreeable to anything if it means he’ll keep making my back arch with his tongue.
With a pleased sound, he starts up again, driving me insane. He pushes a finger inside me and I bite my lip. Not long after, he slides a second in, fucking me with them while he sucks on my clit.
“God, that feels amazing,” I say. “Don’t stop.” Finn slows down and I might kill him. Death by sexually frustrated thigh crush. “Please let me come.”
“I like hearing you beg for me.” He swipes his tongue over my clit and I shiver.
His gravelly chuckle vibrates against my sensitive skin, puffs of his breath coasting over me. It’s almost enough to get me there from how far gone I am. He strokes my side in silent apology, giving me another languid flick with his tongue and curls his fingers inside me.
“Do you know all the ways I’ve been tempted to fuck you?” Finn speaks against my body, the light scrape of his facial hair and his lips making my pussy squeeze his fingers. The corner of his mouth tugs up. He likes making a mess of me.
Who knew beneath the sweet, hometown heartthrob was a sinful, dirty-minded man who takes great enjoyment in taking me apart piece by trembling piece?
“I’ve wanted to make you ride my cock in the truck,” he says, nipping at my inner thigh. “Want your lips sucking me off anytime you shoot me those looks of defiance.” He pulls his fingers free to taste me, groaning against my skin. “Fuck, baby. I want you so many different ways, all the time.”
“Me too.” My mind races with all the dirty images he puts there. I want it, all of it. I’m drunk on Finn Mayberry and I don’t think I’ll ever get my fill of him. I prop up on my elbows and leer at him, licking my lips. “What are you gonna do about it right now?”
A slow yet sultry grin stretches across his face. “This.”
Finn covers my pussy with his mouth, tongue lapping at my folds. He holds me by my hips and growls in pleasure as he feasts on me. I throw my head back and grip his hair as the pleasure crests.
“Oh god!” I cry out as I tip over the edge, my orgasm sending tingles rippling out from my core. “Coming, I’m coming, Finn. God, yes!”
I slump back against the chilly rocks with a whimper. Finn scoops me into his arms, drawing me back into the welcome heat of the water. He holds me in his strong embrace and kisses me hungrily. My arms go around his neck, ready to sink further into oblivion with him. I want to feel his cock inside me.
“Get warmed up. We’re crazy for doing this out here,” he mutters against my lips, unable to stop kissing me long enough to string full sentences together. “It’s cold as shit.”
“No. Can’t wait,” I say between the urgent, devouring kisses. “Need you inside me.”
“Shit, Freya,” he says reluctantly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, damn it,” I say in a rush. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have said so.”
He rests his forehead against mine for a beat, chuckling in exasperation. “Alright, we’re doing this,” he murmurs, cupping my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek. It’s a sweet juxtaposition against the way he’s grinding his erection against me with growing urgency. “Need to get these damn shorts off.”
We both scrabble to untie the strings holding his shorts up—Jesus, the knots are tight—but a commotion on the path has both of us freezing.
Footsteps on the gravel. Laughter. Guests coming down to the spring.
“Shit,” I hiss, hurrying to put my tits back in my bikini top. “Finn—”
“I’ve got it.”
He grabs my bottoms from the rock where he ate me out, hand splashing beneath the water to hand them back to me just as the guests round the bend. A bitten off curse falls from his lips while I get my bottoms back on. He swipes a hand over his mouth and shoots me a tortured look.
I know, I mouth helplessly.
Despite the cockblock of guests arriving, his mouth curves in a wry smile while they bustle in the locker area, oblivious to what they interrupted between us.
“Come here,” he murmurs, reaching for me.
Holding me close, I still feel his hard dick against my hip while he strokes my back affectionately. My palms rest on his chest. Taking my chin in his thumb and forefinger, he tips my face up to his for a soft kiss.
He touches his forehead to mine when we part. “We’re not done with this.”
I bite my lip and nod in agreement. Finn kisses my cheek and moves us to a shallower part of the hot spring. I watch him get out and dry off with his towel. He disappears into the locker area for a few minutes, and when he comes out he winks at me, dressed in his sweatpants and hoodie, wet towel bundled with a hint of the red shorts peeking out.
The guests clamor out from the locker room behind him, laughing and joking with each other. They’re a group of guys a few years younger than Finn and I, maybe early twenties. One by one, they get into the hot spring and move to the other side, leaving me be.
“Goodnight, Freya,” Finn says.
I wave, cheeks heating at the way his gaze trails over me, like he’s committing me to memory.
He heads back up the path and I watch him go, wishing more than anything I could follow for more. The pull to go with him is strong. Blowing out a breath, I cup my flushed cheeks and roll my lips between my teeth.
For once, I’m looking forward to the next Jingle Wars challenge tomorrow, and it’s not because of my obsession with the holiday season.
I woke up this morning feeling like I just won the lottery. I'm the luckiest damn man alive. Except I didn't win the lottery, and I haven’t won Jingle Wars yet, but I did get to taste Freya and I would venture to say it's better than either of those. It felt so right, so damn perfect forgetting what we should be doing, and giving in to our need for each other.
It was past the point of no return, and I was absolutely gone for her.
But now I have to push my feelings for Freya aside and win this damn competition. The wind is chilling to the bone today, and the sun isn’t shining, instead hiding behind the clouds making everything dark, and cold. The crowd doesn’t seem to be affected by the dreary weather.
"Welcome back everyone! Day two of Jingle Wars. My, the temperature out here is below freezing but this competition is heating up! Are we excited to be here today?" Cornelius points the microphone towards the crowd to capture their cheers and applause. "Well, I for one, am glad to hear it! Today we have a very special scavenger hunt planned. A little modern day twist to our beloved Jingle Wars. Today is going to be all about social media and your way around it."
What?
My head whips to Freya who looks over at me with a guilty look on her face. Of course this would be a competition tailored to fit her. I don't even use social media aside from Facebook.
Fuck.
"Each contestant will make their way around town to various local businesses and check in, then take a picture with something they feel represents the business best for the Hollyridge Merrymaker Trail! Something that represents Hollyridge as a whole. Post in on social media and move on to the next location. There are twenty-five locations on this scavenger hunt, and you have five hours to complete your task. The person who completes all twenty-five locations and has the most creative approach will be the finalist that moves on to the next round. After this round, there will only be two remaining contestants that will move on to the final round of Jingle Wars.”
This could not possibly get worse.
“Alright folks, let's get our lists handed out to our contestants.” The host gestures to the stage hand to bring over a piece of paper. When the guy hands me mine, I see the first place on my list of businesses is no other than
Ella’s Christmas store.
And it officially just got worse.
Suddenly, winning Jingle Wars feels that much farther out of reach.
I steal a glance over at Freya who’s holding her list excitedly, waiting for the host to excuse us from the stage. Unlike my sour attitude, Freya knows that she excels at all things social media. The girl was born with a phone in her hand, and a knack for marketing. Me on the other hand? I’m a simple kinda guy. I love a good cold beer, a football game, and my family. I’m good with my hands and my mind, but I don’t know shit about social media or marketing.
“Contestants, you have five hours and you will meet back here with proof of postings.”
The host rings the bell, signaling the beginning of the competition and the numbers begin ticking down on the clock.
This is going to be the longest five hours of my life.
I lose sight of Freya immediately as the crowd is still thick in front of the stage. Everyone’s chattering excitedly, still buzzing about a new type of competition for Jingle Wars. I make my way through the crowd, stopping to shake a few hands of people I know, then make my way to Ella’s store. On the way I log into the ‘gram and quickly make an account, snapping a smiling selfie to use as my profile picture. The entire thing feels strange, but if I don’t do it, then I won’t advance to the next round. I pull my jacket tighter around me as the wind whips, and make it to Ella’s store after a short walk from town square.
Through the large window out front I see there aren’t many people inside, but a few tinkering with ornaments and various Christmas decor that she has displayed for sale. The bell above the door jingles as I open it. Ella immediately looks up and sees that it’s me that entered.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” she says with a bite.
Ah hell. I’d rather have an early prostate exam than be here right now.
“Hey there, Ella. How are you today?” I grin, trying to charm my way into her good graces even if I want to run in the opposite direction.
“Well, you haven’t answered any of my calls or even called me back Finn.” She pouts.
Fat chance of that ever happening.
“Yeah, sorry about I’ve been really busy Ella. You know, getting the inn fixed up for Grams and Gramps takes all of my attention and time.”
She nods but doesn’t look like she believes a word that I’m saying.
“I think we should talk about us. We’re so good together, Finn. Everyone says it. Don’t you think so?”
This is getting increasingly awkward and I don’t want to do this, especially in the middle of her place of business with customers here.
“I think you’re great, Ella, but I’m here for Jingle Wars and I don’t think now is a great time to talk about this, do you?” I glance around the room at her customers, hoping she will let this go.
“Whatever, Finn. Kinda hard to talk about it when you never answer your phone, and don’t bother to return my call. It’s really quite rude, if you ask me. And I hear that you’ve been all over town with that skanky out of town girl. What’s her name? Freeya or something? Honestly, Finn, she isn’t even that pretty,” she says, jealousy dripping from her remarks, and crosses her arms over her chest.
Now that I’m looking at Ella, I mean really looking at her, I realize she’s the same “mean girl” that she was back in high school. Nothing has changed about her, and that’s not some shit to be proud of.
“Ella, don’t talk shit about someone you don’t even know. Have you ever spoken to her? Her name is Freya and she’s fucking perfect. You’re the same old person that you’ve always been, and that’s quite sad if you ask me. You’d think as you grew into an adult, you’d mature and lose that mean girl attitude, but that obviously hasn’t happened. Do me a favor, don’t call, don’t text, stop showing up at my house, and for God’s sake get it through your head that I am not into you. Sorry to be an asshole, but the second you called someone you don’t even know a “skank” any of the little bit of respect I had for you has gone out the window. Have a Merry Christmas Ella.”
Her mouth drops open in shock that I’ve just told her exactly what I think, and not even a fraction of me feels guilty for doing it. She deserved that and more. If I don’t get a good score for her location, then fuck it, she wasn’t going to get away with bad mouthing Freya while I sat back and did nothing in her defense.
I find a Grinch decoration on a shelf and hold it up for the shot, making sure to get Ella in the background, then post it to Instagram, tagging her store.
My caption reads: Hollyridge has no time for the #Grinch or #MeanGirls Ella Arnold with a sad face.
There. Shows her.
I don’t even bother searching for Freya’s name, because it’ll only distract me from my task. As much as I want to see what she posts, I have to stay on track because being social media challenged is already going to slow me down in the competition. The next few hours fly by with all of my stops all over town, and I try to choose the most creative photos I can to post. Some funny, some serious, but in the end I see exactly why the committee chose this. Local business owners love interacting with everyone, and it keeps their business booming.
This would be something fun to offer every holiday season, and we could incorporate the inn in it, offer hot chocolate and some of Grams’ cookies, and definitely put Saint to work with his sleigh.
Wow, now I’m thinking like Freya. Not a bad thing either.
I was quick to judge her social media marketing skills, and now I’m realizing that these skills are what helps to keep her resort relevant, and booked. Maybe it’s time I change with the times.
I make it back to the stage with seconds to spare and see Freya standing there, clutching her coat, shivering. Damn, the temp really has dropped this evening. I can’t believe we still have a crowd with these temperatures. A storm must be brewing. I join her on stage and stand close, hoping some of my warmth will rub off on her. If we weren’t on a stage in front of hundreds of people, I’d pull her into my arms and make sure she was warm for the rest of the night.
“Welcome back!” Cornelius begins. “All of our contestants have made it back safe and sound, even if they are a little cold! I know folks, this temp sure is dropping. Our contestants have dropped off their papers to the judges with their handles and they are being reviewed. Because of the dropping temperatures, we are going to get a decision quickly so we can head home and bundle up! Everyone did an amazing job, and I can’t wait to see who is going to advance to the final round.”
We stand there shivering for a few more minutes before the host joins us back on the stage with his bright red envelope in hand. That envelope holds the answer to my future, and as dramatic as it sounds, it’s the truth.
“What a wonderful job everyone has done! I am so here for all of these local businesses that got featured on our scavenger hunt today. Let’s get down to the important stuff! The two finalists who will enter the very last competition of Jingle Wars are…” He pauses dramatically, opening the envelope. “Freya Anderson and Finn Mayberry! Congratulations to you two! We will see the both of you for the final round! Now, normally we’d let you all know what we have planned, but this time we’re keeping the last challenge a secret to keep our finalists on their toes.”
Wow. Part of me is actually surprised that I made the cut with how badly I suck at anything involving hashtags. Freya on the other hand, had this from the start.
“Didn’t think it would be the two of us up here on this stage, final contestants,” I tell her and shoot her a grin.
“Well, that’s because you underestimate me, Finn Mayberry. I told you, I let you win that tree because I didn’t need it.”
Sassy mouth woman.
“Oh, is that so? How about we talk about this over dinner later?” I ask. There are lots of things I want to do with Freya, and none of them involve talking. Unless you count her screaming my name while I fuck her with my tongue.
“As much as I would love to,
I have to take care of some stuff. Rain check?”
“Sure. I need to get some stuff done for Gramps around the house. Good game today, but the next round is mine traitor.” I tease. The back and forth between us is second nature now, and I love her playful responses. It just makes me want her that much more.
“Yeah yeah, I think you’re all talk and no action. That’s what I think.” She huffs teasingly.
We walk side by side down from the stage towards the parking lot. I pause and quickly scan the area to see if we have any nosy onlookers, then pull her close to me, where she’s pressed against my body.
“I think we both know that I proved just how much action I’m about when I had my face buried in your pussy last night in that hot spring. Need a reminder?”
Her cheeks immediately heat, the red flush spreading down to her neck. I love that my words set her body on fire. I want to play with the flames that I’ve created and watch as they burn.
She clears her throat and before she can object, I take her mouth in a searing kiss that leaves us both breathless.
“That’s your reminder for the road. Just because I’m a gentleman, doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you so hard you forget your own name, Freya. Be careful getting home, the roads are slick. Stay off your phone, ‘kay?” I pat her hard on the ass before hopping into my truck, leaving her with her mouth hanging open and fire in her eyes.
The lust-tinged daze distracts me until someone repeats my name in an exasperated tone. I give my head a little shake, swallowing at the burning heat Finn stirred, then left in his wake before he got in his truck. After what he said, I was fully prepared to tackle him in his truck. We haven’t been alone since the hot spring last night, and the ache between my legs still wants him badly.
“Jesus, Fre-ya.” Riley says my name in two drawn out syllables, waving her hand in front of my face. “Zone out queen, what’s your deal?”