A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe

by Jessica Clare

  Sage’s little cries became more insistent, her thighs clenching every time he nipped at her skin. She was moving constantly on the countertop now, unable to stay still, and her breathing was coming in shallow pants. Closer, but not quite where he wanted her. Jason teased a finger up and down the seam of her sex and then pressed it into her core, loving her cry of response. “Does that hurt, sweetheart?”

  “N-no,” she panted, her fingers flexing on his head. “I’m o-okay.”

  She sounded dazed, lost in her need, and he kept going because her responses were making him utterly crazy with his own need. His cock felt as if it were going to punch a hole in his jeans, he was so damn hard. But Sage came first. He pushed deeper into her with his finger, feeling the tight clench of her around him. He gently pushed a second finger into her but met with resistance. She was tight.

  It was time to get her relaxed, then.

  With his fingers still lodged inside her, Jason parted her lower lips with his other hand, then leaned in and brushed his mouth over her clit. She cried out, arching against him. Her hands dug at his scalp. “Jason,” she panted. “Oh . . .”

  “I’m here,” he murmured and then flicked his tongue over her clit again. Another shuddering, restless cry arose from her throat. “You like that?” he murmured, licking the sensitive nub and then blowing cool air across it. “Or should I stop?”

  “No!” she cried out immediately, and her hands jerked on his head. “No, don’t stop.”

  And there it was, the subtle pull of her hands on his head as she tugged him down, trying to guide him toward the apex of her hips. She pushed her back against the cabinet, trying to arch against his mouth as he went down again for another quick taste, and when her tight passage clenched around his fingers again, he began to work them, pumping slowly in and out of her channel even as he teased her clit with his mouth.

  It didn’t take long before he figured out which touches, which flicks of his tongue and where, got her off. Sage pushed at his head, silently guiding him even as she panted, and her little cries did the rest. He sucked on her clit, teasing the sensitive flesh as he continued to pound into her tight channel until she was utterly slick with arousal. He added a third finger, pushing into her, and when she arched with pleasure, he nearly lost control himself.

  She was so damn beautiful, so responsive. She made all kinds of noises as he worked her delicate flesh, determined to bring her to orgasm. “Look at how wet you are,” he told her, and thrust his fingers into her again, the sound of her slick heat audible. “You’re going to clutch my cock like you’re clutching at my fingers, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  Her response was incoherent, but her insistent hands pushed at his head, driving him back toward her clit.

  Jason chuckled and lavished more attention on it. She wanted less talking and more tongue? He could give her that. He redoubled his efforts, licking and sucking at the small nub and letting her push his head forward until she was practically grinding against his face, her breath coming in short, raspy pants.

  “Jason,” she cried out and then just as quickly panted his name again. “Jason. Jason!” Her voice was insistent, her thighs trembling, and he knew she was close. “Oh. Oh. I need—” She gasped, arching against his mouth. “I need—”

  He ignored her wild cries, continuing to work the side of her clit with his tongue, rubbing it in a slow, steady motion that she’d shown she loved.

  “Right. There!” She made a choked sound and then shuddered against him. Her channel convulsed on his fingers, shuddering, and her release rippled through her body. Her sex grew impossibly wet, and he kept pumping into her wet heat with his fingers, biting back his own growl of pleasure as she took thrust after thrust and kept coming, her thighs jerking against his shoulders.

  With a little whimper, she sagged back, letting out a gusty sigh as she continued to shudder. He gave her sweetness one last lick and then slowly pulled his fingers free from her body. He immediately moved them to his mouth, tasting her arousal, and she watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, her sated body sprawled above him on the counter.

  “Oh,” was all she said.

  He stood up and pulled her into his arms. He wanted to drag her over to the table and put her face down on it, pushing into her from behind and taking her so hard that she screamed . . . but this was her first time. She needed a bed, and she needed intimacy. Jason kissed her cheeks and jaw, peppering her face with small nips as he struggled to ignore the aching weight of his cock in his jeans. “I’m taking my present up to your room,” he murmured. “Hold on to me.”

  Sage immediately put her arms around his shoulders and buried her face against his neck. He loved that she sagged against him, as if utterly exhausted and boneless with pleasure. He couldn’t resist skimming his hands over the rounded curves of her bottom before gripping them and hauling her against him.

  He carried her out of the kitchen and through the living room. Achilles got to his feet, tail wagging, and looked expectantly at Jason. “Stay,” Jason murmured, and was relieved when the dog immediately sat back down in front of the fire again. He made a mental note to get something to occupy Achilles next time—because there would definitely be a next time—and took his woman upstairs.

  Jason knew which bedroom was hers even if he’d never been inside it. He managed to open the door and then pushed inside, noting the pale green decor. Sage, like her name.

  It suited her, as did the simple watercolors of prairie scenes and the fluffy quilt on the bed. He was glad to see it was a king-sized bed and not a single. That meant they’d be sleeping together tonight. He gently set her down atop the blankets. She clung to him, not letting go of his neck, and her legs locked around his waist. “Stay, Jason.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He kissed her fiercely to prove it. She gave a little sigh, rubbing her foot against his thigh even as he loomed over her on the bed. His jeans felt as if they were constricting his blood flow, they were so tight across his cock. “Let me undress, love.”

  “Hurry,” she whispered, her eyes shining up at him.

  Oh, he planned on it.

  Jason tore at his jeans the moment he straightened. He’d never managed to pull his clothing off so fast, and the moment his jeans were on the floor, he immediately had to pull them back up to fish out his wallet. Condom. He needed a condom. He found one tucked in a side pocket and then tore the package open, rolling it on as quickly as possible. He needed to touch Sage again. He couldn’t stand being apart from her, even for this brief moment. He needed to sink deep inside her, to feel her envelop him, to feel her thighs clasp around his hips again.

  He needed her.

  Once the condom was on, he looked up and saw her gazing at him. Her eyes were wide and fascinated, but she didn’t seem scared. If anything, she seemed more turned on than ever before. He moved onto the bed, covering her body with his, and she immediately wrapped herself around him, holding him close. “Jason,” she breathed, as if his name were a benediction. “My Jason.”

  “Yours,” he agreed, and it felt right. He was most definitely hers, in every sense of the word.

  Sage kissed him, and as she did, her hands roamed all over his torso, as if she didn’t know where to touch him first. Her hands finally settled on his hips, and then lower, and she gripped his ass in her hands and pulled him down against her, until his cock was settled against her mound. He rocked against her, getting her used to the feel of him, and when she opened her legs wider, he shifted his weight and pressed the head of his cock to the entrance of her core.

  She sucked in a breath, tensing.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “I have you.”

  She nodded, and he kissed her again to distract her. It didn’t take long before she was moaning underneath him again, her body moving against his and pushing back against the cock he had wedged against her entrance. Every time she s
quirmed against him, he nearly lost control. He’d give her what she wanted so badly, then. He pushed into her, just a little, and found the clasp of her body tight but not unforgiving. Inch by inch, he pumped into her, easing his way in with intense kisses and teasing her breasts. When he was halfway into her, he had to pause to control himself. It took everything he had not to thrust deep and claim her right in that moment, but she was enjoying herself, making little sounds of pleasure against him and digging her nails into his shoulders. He wouldn’t trade that for anything.

  He was pretty sure he’d be eligible for sainthood if this took much longer, though. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

  “More,” she told him, breathless.

  Jason groaned. “I’m trying to go slow for you, love—”

  “I know. But I want more. Give me everything,” she told him, her eyes full of need. She arched her hips up against him and he sucked in a breath. “Please, Jason. Don’t go slow anymore. I can handle it.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers, holding her close . . . and sank deep.

  She sucked in a breath and shifted uncomfortably under him for a moment. He remained perfectly still, because if he moved, he was going to drive into her so hard they’d push across the bed. “That wasn’t so bad,” she whispered, patting his side.

  Well, there was faint praise. Jason bit back a chuckle. He knew she was trying to make him feel better, but “wasn’t so bad” hurt his ego. He clearly needed to make her lose her mind with another orgasm, then. He kissed her gently, tugging on her lower lip with his teeth and then worrying away the bite with a flick of his tongue. “Do you hurt?”

  “No,” she told him honestly. “It feels different and . . . tight, but not bad.” And she shifted her hips again as if to prove it to herself.

  He pulled back and sank into her again, and when she gasped and held on to his ass, encouraging him to do it again, he couldn’t stop. He began to thrust into her, picking up a rhythm. She tried to meet him, lifting her hips clumsily to match his until she moaned, and another shudder rippled through her. “Oh.”

  Aha. Jason couldn’t help but grin even as he thrust into her again. Was she enjoying this part finally? He kept going, trying to keep as steady a rhythm as possible, even as he reached between them in search of her clit. When he found it, she cried out, arching against him.

  “Oh god! Jason!”

  “I know,” he murmured, and stole her mouth in another hard kiss even as he rubbed her clit. He wanted her to come, and come hard. Her movements were jerky, almost as if she were trying to bear down on his cock, so he pushed deeper, pumping hard into her, and he could feel her shudder against him. She whimpered as he rocked into her over and over again, her hips coming off the bed, and he could feel the tension building in her. It was building in him, too, his balls drawing up tight and the need roaring through him like a freight train.

  And then she was coming with a little scream of his name, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back as she arched, her tight channel squeezing him with clench after clench of her release—and then he came, too. With a roar, he let go, his release flooding out of him in one last rough thrust before he collapsed atop her.

  Within the space of a few breaths, he propped up on his elbows, shifting his weight so he didn’t crush her, and waited for the spots to leave his vision. He’d come so hard he’d practically felt the earth shift, and he knew she’d come just as hard, because he could feel her muscles twitching with little aftershocks of her release. Leaning down, he pressed a light kiss to her mouth. “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “Mmm, Merry Christmas,” she told him, her voice dazed. A dreamy smile curved her mouth.

  He couldn’t help but chuckle at the satisfied expression on her face. “Best present I ever had,” he told her, and meant it. Sage was special. He could see himself growing old with a girl like her, and for once, the prospect of another fifty or sixty years on this earth didn’t fill him with dread. It made him feel utterly content.

  With one last kiss, he slid off of her. “I’ll get a towel.”

  In contrast to the rest of the house, her bathroom was messy with makeup and hair products littering the counter, and he grinned to himself at the sight, digging around in a cabinet before he found her hand towels. He peeled his condom off, cleaned himself, then wet another towel with warm water and went to tend to his woman.

  Sage gave him shy looks as he insisted on taking care of her, but when he was done and lay back down on the bed, she immediately curled up against him. He pulled her into his arms and tucked her body against his, loving how she fit against him. She felt perfect against him.

  Hell, she was perfect, full stop.

  When he was with her, he didn’t feel like a broken man that had somehow been put back together. She’d never judged him, never made him feel like less even when he showed up on her doorstep in a near panic. Having Achilles around was helping—he knew the dog’s calm presence was beneficial even if it wasn’t a service dog. Maybe at some point he’d talk to Annie about letting him keep Achilles for his own. But even so, it didn’t mean he was fixed. He’d probably always struggle with his memories, with feeling just a little shattered in certain parts of his mind. And he wasn’t sure if he should saddle Sage with someone like that. She deserved all the happiness in the world.

  Then again, the thought of her being in any other man’s arms like this made him feel downright murderous. He pulled her tight against him and pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “Hi,” she said with a breathless chuckle, patting his chest.

  “Hi,” he murmured. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine.” He could practically feel her blushing. It was amusing how she was sprawled against him, totally naked, and five minutes ago she’d been panting his name and screaming for more . . . and now she was embarrassed?

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No, it was wonderful.” Her hand smoothed down the front of his chest. “Thank you.”

  “Why are you thanking me?”

  “Because it was supposed to be your gift but I feel like the one who ended up with the present,” she admitted. “I love you, Jason.”

  His throat went dry.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” she told him, still rubbing his chest with her fingertips. “I know it’s fast, and I probably sound like a crazy person, but I wanted to say it. And even if this never goes anywhere, I’m glad we had this moment.”

  “That is . . . astonishingly mature,” he managed.

  Sage laughed. “I’m a virgin, not a moron.” She ducked her head against him, nestling close to his neck. “You just make me happy and I wanted to share it. Don’t worry. I’m still leaving in the spring.”

  And he was still a broken mess. When her fingers skated over one of his old scars, he could feel her hesitate, and then she kept going, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He’d noticed, though. He knew she was trying not to make a big deal out of it, but as long as he held on to those scars and those memories, he probably wasn’t the right guy for her.

  And didn’t that make him feel like shit. She was happy, and beautiful, and when she sold the ranch, she’d be well off. What did he have to offer her? Questionable employment, anxiety attacks, and a half dozen nearly maxed credit cards that he’d lived off of between jobs.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” she murmured, her hand moving to his belly button, and then lower. “I’m supposed to be the one freaking out.”

  “I just . . . think you can do better than me, Sage.”

  “Fuck you,” she told him, and he looked over at her in surprise. Sage just grinned. “You let me decide what’s best for me, all right?”

  He didn’t know what to say to make that better, so he deflected. “Potty mouth,” he teased, amused at her swearing.

  “Damn right,” she said fiercely, and propped
up on one elbow so she could look at him, her hair cascading over her shoulders. “You may think whatever you want about yourself, but do you know what I see when I look at you?”

  Jason remained quiet.

  “I see a man who knows the value of hard work. I see a man who’s kind, generous, funny, and does the best job he can every day. I see a man who’s responsible and good with animals. I see a man who realized he’d taken on a job that he knew nothing about and decided to make the very best of it. I see a man who has never made me feel small or stupid. I see a man who makes me feel beautiful every day, and makes me realize that I deserve someone better than Greg. I see a man who makes me wonder how I got so lucky as to have him smile at me.” Her hand stilled over his heart. “I don’t see Afghanistan. I don’t see PTSD. Because you might have PTSD, but that doesn’t mean it’s who you are. You’re Jason Clements, and you’re wonderful.”

  He cupped her cheek, staring up at her shining eyes. She was too pure for this world. He knew she saw him with rose-colored glasses. She saw him as a hard worker, and he saw himself as desperate. Afraid of another dead-end career that led to nowhere. Afraid of letting down more people in his life. Afraid of letting down her.