Hockey Holidays

by Toni Aleo

  “Even better,” Callie called out as Maggie headed to Camilla’s room. She still had two hours before her shift ended, and four hours until Alex showed up at her door.

  Not that she was counting down the minutes or anything.

  A few hours later, she paced her bedroom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this nervous. Hell, her last round of clinical rotations hadn’t freaked her out this much.

  The doorbell rang, and for a second she stopped breathing.

  She was ridiculous. This was Alex. They’d known each other forever. They’d done everything together.

  She smoothed down her sweater and took in a deep breath. Then she opened the door.

  And swallowed her tongue.

  Holy crap, he looked good. His hair was swept back like he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly. Dammit. She wanted to do that. His cheeks were pink from the cold, his lips inviting as he smiled at her. His green sweater clung where it should but wasn’t too tight under his jacket, and if she asked him to turn around, his dark jeans would fit his ass perfectly. His delectable hockey ass. It was a real thing, and it was magical.

  “Hi, Maggie,” he said with a laugh, and her gaze darted up to meet his. The corners of his eyes crinkled. He was too damn adorable for his own good—and for her sanity.

  “Hi,” she said quickly, her cheeks heating as he gave her a once-over that warmed her to the tips of her boots.

  He tugged her into his arms, muting her gasp as he sealed his lips to hers. She melted into his body. He guided her further into her house, kicking the front door shut behind him before he picked her up and pressed her against the closest hard surface, never breaking the kiss.

  She moaned, sinking her hands into his hair, clutching the strands as she kissed him back with everything she had.

  And it was a lot. Pent-up need flowed through her as they devoured each other.

  She finally broke the kiss, her breathing as rough as his when he pressed his forehead to hers.

  “You look stunning. Want to get takeout?” he said, his voice rumbling over her, and she laughed.

  She lowered her legs to the floor, but he kept a tight hold on her waist.

  “Alex, we should go out for dinner. Like on a real date,” she said, attempting to sound stern as she got lost in his eyes again. Like warm, melty chocolate.

  “If you look at me like that, we are getting takeout,” he grumbled, pressing a hard kiss to her lips, his tongue darting out for a quick taste.

  “So where are we going?” she asked, stepping out of his hold.

  He sighed, and she fought back her grin.

  “There’s a great pizza place nearby. It’s not as good as true Chicago pizza, but the owner lived in Chicago for most of his life, so it’s as close as we’re going to get. What is that?” he asked, pointing at her Christmas tree.

  “Umm. Obviously, it’s my Christmas tree. What does it look like?”

  He shook his head. “A sad excuse for one. It’s a pre-lit tabletop tree. You don’t even have any ornaments on it.”

  “You always were a holiday snob. Don’t judge my tree.”

  “That’s not a tree. It’s a sad shrub. Charlie Brown wouldn’t even wrap his blanket around that.”

  “Shut up and be nice to my tree.”

  “You used to have the best decorations and a massive, real tree in the living room. I still remember your house always smelled like cinnamon and pine as soon as the Thanksgiving leftovers were put away.”

  They’d had more than a few joint holidays since their parents were friends. She smiled at the memory of him sneaking his hand under the table and linking his fingers with hers. He would run his thumb across her palm just to see her squirm in her seat.

  “I know, but I’m busy at work and it’s just me, so I didn’t go crazy this year.”

  In fact, after she’d moved into her own place after they’d broken up, she’d kept the decorating to a minimum. The holidays were hard for her. Christmas was hard for her. She still remembered Grace’s last Christmas. They’d all put on a good face, tried to not think about last anythings, but they’d known.

  The final treatment they’d tried wasn’t working, and by mid January, her sister was gone.

  “Dammit, I’m an asshole,” he said, tightening his arms around her. He didn’t need to say anything else. That was one of the great things about knowing someone your whole life. They got you.

  “No, you’re not. So, about that pizza,” she said, her voice soft with the tears she refused to shed.

  “I am. We’re going to grab a quick bite and then we’re going tree shopping.” He leaned back, giving her a bright smile.

  His eyes were tinged with pain, but he quickly masked it.

  “And maybe some mistletoe. You definitely need that,” he said with a grin, and she laughed.

  “Fine. Lead me to this almost authentic Chicago pizza. If it passes muster, maybe we’ll get a tree.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, but I’m up for it.”

  After a quick dinner of pizza that reminded her of home, Maggie let Alex drag her to the nearest Christmas tree lot.

  “Christmas is in two weeks. I bet all the good trees are gone. I’m going to be working constantly, and you know I’m terrible at remembering to water them,” she said.

  “Don’t be a Scrooge. We are going to find the perfect tree, and then we are going to make out under said tree,” he whispered against her ear.

  She shuddered with need. In between slices of pizza, he’d spent a good portion of the night with his hand on her knee. She’d playfully swatted him away when his fingers had traveled up to her thigh.

  “Then hurry up and pick one,” she said, gripping his shirt and tugging him down into a quick kiss.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he teased, pulling her down the first aisle.

  The options were limited, but he found a few contenders, holding them out for her to inspect.

  “That one is massive,” she said, gesturing to the first fluffy tree he grabbed. “I do not need a nine foot—no wait, is that a ten foot—tree. I only have so many decorations and so much space, Alex.”

  “Fine. How about this one?” he asked, gesturing to a slightly smaller tree.

  “Still a little big.”

  “Remember the tree in our apartment?” He shook his head. “I got sap everywhere.”

  She laughed. He’d even gotten it in his hair. Her body heated, remembering the shower they’d taken to remove the sticky sap.

  “You okay?” he asked with a smirk.

  “You did that on purpose,” she muttered, letting out a squeak when he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her into his chest.

  “Hurry up and pick a damn tree,” he said against her lips.

  She was tempted to close her eyes and point, but she played along, finding the perfect tree while holding Alex’s hand.

  Maybe this Christmas she would get all she wanted under the tree. And next to the tree. And on the sofa near the tree.

  Chapter Five

  “Grab all the ornaments you can find,” Alex said as he finished wrapping the multi-colored lights around the tree.

  “I definitely don’t have enough to cover this thing,” Maggie muttered, gesturing to the modest six-foot tree he’d convinced her to buy.

  “You love it. Now grab those ornaments.”

  She returned a few minutes later with a small storage bin. Yep. They’d have to deal with the crowds and go shopping in the morning.

  He pulled out the fluffy red and gold garland of his youth and laughed. “Keeping it old school, huh, Mags.”

  “Shut up, that garland is a classic,” she said.

  He grabbed the top box, carefully removing the generic red and green ball ornaments and walked around the tree to place them on the branches.

  She opened the next box filled with homemade ornaments.

  “Damn. I think I still have a burn mark from the beads we ironed for those,” he said when she pulled o
ut a few snowflake ornaments.

  She laughed. “Yeah, my mom told you to wait and she would iron them, but you were too impatient.”

  “I was a kid. Patience wasn’t my thing.”

  “You don’t say?”

  They walked around the tree with their ornament boxes, filling up the branches as best they could with the limited supply. Every time he bumped into her, he nibbled her earlobe or grabbed a quick kiss, her gasps and giggles spiking his need for her.

  “I don’t remember you being this clumsy,” she said as he wrapped his arm around her waist after crashing into her again.

  “No clue what you are talking about,” he said, stealing another kiss that left her gasping. His breathing was getting a little rough, too. At least they just had one more box, and then they could move on to other things. Preferably in her bedroom. Or on the couch. Or under the tree.

  He wasn’t picky.

  “Last box,” he said, popping the top open. His heart clenched when he saw what was inside.

  “You kept them.” His voice was soft, almost in awe.

  “Umm. Oh. Well, yeah, I didn’t want to get rid of them,” she said, nibbling on her lower lip.

  He pulled each ornament out carefully. From the ages of sixteen to twenty-one, they’d gone to the same mall kiosk and picked out a personalized ornament of a holiday couple, from snowpeople to polar bears to frogs, and had the year and their names written on it. The kiosk owner always remembered them. Maggie had said that one day when they were older, she wanted a tree filled with Maggie and Alex ornaments. The six ornaments had been carefully wrapped, and he hated that there weren’t more. This year would’ve been the eleventh one.

  He set down the polar bear ornament—it’d been the last one they’d picked out—and pulled her into his lap on the couch, kissing away the tear that had fallen down her cheek.

  “I missed you so much, Alex,” she said, shifting in his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “I’m done missing you,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and swallowing her sigh as she sank into his chest.

  Her hands clenched in his hair, and all the sadness and pain from their years apart faded away, replaced with a blinding need to have her. He gripped her hips and stood.

  She gasped against his mouth, tightening her legs around his waist.

  “I need you, Maggie, and I hope to hell it’s mutual,” he grumbled.

  “So damn mutual,” she whispered back. “Now get a move on,” she said, then kissed the hell out of him as he strode down the hallway.

  He pressed her against the wall just outside of her bedroom and she shifted her body against him. He couldn’t stop the fuck that tumbled from his lips.

  Her laugh was husky with desire. “That’s the idea.”

  She released her grip on his hair to flip on the lights, and he stopped at the foot of the bed, slowly lowering her to the comforter. She held on to his shoulders, forcing him to follow her down until he was stretched out on top of her, her curves molding to his hardness, his cock pressing incessantly to her belly.

  She twined her legs to lock around his hips, rubbing her heated center against his arousal, and his body rocked against her, his brain no longer in control as she drove him to distraction.

  He rolled them, pulling her on top of him and she sat up, grinding against his stomach, his muscles clenching with need. She leaned back, pulling his shirt from his waistband, trailing her fingers over his skin. She pushed his shirt up, and he lifted his shoulders, yanking the fabric over his head and sending it sailing across the room.

  Her hands skimmed over his chest, her nails scraping his nipples, and he sucked in a rattled breath, his cock hardening to the point of pain against her ass. She knew all of his buttons, and he wanted her to press every last one of them.

  “Oh, Alex,” she moaned, leaning over him and peppering kisses along his jaw and throat. Her tongue traced his lips, but she pulled back before he could seal the kiss.

  Her hands moved to her waist to strip off her shirt. His palms immediately rose to cup her satin-covered breasts, the pale blue material was soft against his hands, but he wanted to feel her skin against his. She reached around, popping the clasp on her bra, the straps sliding down her arms as he pulled the scrap of satin away.

  And then her perfect breasts were in his palms. The weight was familiar, and he plucked at her nipples, relishing in her shudder. He knew all of her buttons, too.

  He sat up, taking one breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the pebbled tip as she gripped his shoulders and called out his name.

  Nothing had ever sounded sweeter.

  He looked up at the glorious sight of her head thrown back, her soft pants of need echoing through the stillness in the room.

  One hand sank into his hair, and she tugged on his scalp, holding him to her body and shuddering in his arms when he moved to her other breast and continued to torment her.

  “Too many clothes,” she gasped out, shifting against his cock, and his tight jeans were in full agreement.

  He rolled her underneath him and kissed down her body, nipping along her waist, her belly trembling under his lips.

  “Alex,” she moaned. “Hurry.”

  “So demanding,” he murmured against her stomach.

  He popped open the button on her jeans and tugged the denim down her legs, pressing a kiss over her panties as she squirmed beneath him.

  He tossed her jeans aside, standing between her spread thighs. Her eyes blazed with heat, her cheeks bright pink, and he wanted to rip the final scrap of fabric that covered where he wanted to feast the most.

  She shimmied out of her panties, giving him a smirk when she dropped the bit of satin to the floor.

  “Fuck,” he groaned when she reached for his waistband.

  He held his breath; the sound of his zipper parting was the only thing he could hear.

  She dipped her hand into his boxer briefs, her fingers cupping his cock with a squeeze that sucked all the air from his lungs.

  Holy fucking hell.

  He couldn’t stop himself from pumping into her hands.

  She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to taste him, to trace along the head. His entire body shook with need as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth, her hand gripping his length and controlling how much of him she took into her mouth. His jeans pulled tight along his thighs as she sucked the head.

  While he wanted nothing more than to watch her lips around his cock, he wanted to be inside her body, to sink into the warm heat he’d never forgotten. He pulled back, his cock falling from her lips with a pop as they both quaked with desire.

  “I need to be inside you, Maggie.” His voice was rough as he stripped off his pants and boxer briefs, grateful that he’d toed off his socks and shoes while they decorated the tree. Hopping around to remove his socks with his bits—his large bits, thank you very much—swinging about was not sexy.

  “Please, Alex, hurry,” she said, reaching out for him.

  “Not just yet. Turnabout is fair play,” he said, then dropped to his knees.

  “Oh god, yes,” Maggie moaned, one hand gripping the comforter, her other hand locked in his soft hair as his mouth met the apex of her thighs.

  His tongue traced her lower lips before finding her clit, and she arched into his mouth. He draped an arm over her hips, holding her in place as he destroyed her ability to do anything aside from writhe on the bed and gasp his name.

  His tongue traced circles over her clit before sucking the bud into his mouth, drawing more cries from her lips.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped, her body pulled tight with need. “Oh god, I’m so close. Alex.”

  He pressed a kiss to her clit and moved back up her body.

  “What are you doing? I was so close.”

  “Turnabout, remember?” he teased, his lips finding her nipple and pulling it into his mouth, biting softly on the tip.

  “You are a monster,” she gasped. �
��I was so close. Get back down there.” She tried to sound stern, but her voice was still breathy with a desire she’d hadn’t felt in years. Since him.

  “So demanding,” he said as he reversed direction and kissed back down her belly. But he continued down her thighs, licking a spot behind her knee.

  “You missed a spot,” she said, and he met her gaze with a smirk.

  “Oh, you mean here?” he asked right before his mouth found her clit again.

  “You are trying to kill me,” she murmured as his fingers sank into her body.

  He chuckled against her, and the vibrations set her off. She screamed out his name as she came, her body a boneless mass of desire.

  He pulled back and rolled on a condom before he sank into her with a languid thrust. She gripped his shoulders, need sparking through her as she tried to come down from her first orgasm as the next one started to build.

  His pelvis was flush with hers as he bottomed out, a raspy groan spilling from his lips before he leaned down and took her mouth with his. He rocked against her with shallow thrusts, the friction against her clit driving her insane, and her hands moved to his chest, scraping across his nipples. He shuddered over her and pulled almost completely free of her body before he filled her again.

  His tongue darted out, tangling with hers, and then he rolled them, his lips fused to hers until she broke free with a gasp, sitting up on top of him.

  His pupils were blown under the low light, his need clear and hard beneath her, and she rocked her hips.

  He gripped her ass, roughly squeezing her as he lifted her hips to move in time with him. She arched her body, throwing her head back as she groaned his name and gripped his thighs behind her ass for purchase.

  “Fuck, Mags. You’re so fucking hot,” Alex growled, and she lifted her head to look at him.

  His tongue darted out, licking his lips as he watched her body move over his. He skated one hand down the center of her body before his thumb pressed down on her clit, moving in tight circles, and she curled over him, falling to his chest and locking her lips to his. His thumb continued to torment her as she lifted and lowered her body over his cock. She gasped against his mouth, his tongue meeting hers as she poured herself into the kiss.