by BA Tortuga
“You ain’t gonna tell Aunt Caroline on us, are you?”
“Not if you get on out of here and go to bed.” Somehow Cotton looked as if he’d grown six inches in height.
Em thought the beautiful bastard was the finest man ever. Worth having to sit on the porch to work for.
The kids skedaddled, almost leaving skid marks, and Cotton waited for their footsteps to fade before turning to her. He hooted. “Lord. Some things don’t change.”
“Uh-huh. How many bottles have you snuck in here, Cotton?”
“A lot, before I got near cut in half.” His hands were cold when he came back to slide them under her sweatshirt. “I imagine I ought to let you get some sleep.”
She cuddled in, sighed softly. This whole experience was surprisingly…lonely. “I’m cool.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s not easy.” He hugged her tight and didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go.
“Shh. Your mom is a blast. You excited about Christmas morning?” She fit in his arms, perfectly.
“I am. Too bad we gotta get through Christmas Eve first.” He brightened a little. “We could drive into town tomorrow night, see the lights. Just you and me.”
“Oh, I’d love that.” She nodded, kissed his jaw. “You, me, sparkling lights. It sounds like heaven.”
“It does. We can even pack some leftovers, have a picnic in the back of the truck. I got blankets and an air mattress.
“Yeah? I’ve got an iPod filled with Christmas music and portable speakers.”
“There you go. I know just the place to park.”
Now that made the idea of going to bed alone a little more palatable.
“Thank you, baby.” Hell, it would give her something to have good dreams on.
“Gimme a kiss.” He bent down to take her mouth one more time, the heat kindling fast and deep.
It was like being a teenager, up to the point where he walked her to the bedroom door, patted her ass and told her to get some sleep. She curled into the flannel sheets, grinning at the thought that the next time he stayed in his room, it would smell like her.
Chapter Eleven
Cotton argued with his momma pretty well.
In this case, she was trying to get him to stay home and stuff stockings for the fifty thousand cousins and shit that seemed to have invaded the house. Too bad for her that he’d made plans. “No, Momma. I told Emmy I’d take her to see lights. Just us.”
“Son, this is about family time. This isn’t about getting some in your truck. I need someone to stuff chocolate covered cherries in stockings.”
“Momma.” Cotton kept his voice even. Calm. “You’re the one put us in separate rooms. I haven’t got to see her, let alone see her naked. I love y’all, but she came to be with me.”
“Well, I couldn’t put y’all in the same room. Denise would ride my ass like a prize pony.”
He almost grinned. Aunt Denise was Daddy’s sister and insisted on being a thorn in Momma’s side. “Yeah. I figure lights are innocent enough, and I need to wear her out so she sleeps. The kids will be up at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Is she…?” Momma shrugged, cheeks pinking. “Does she not sleep, baby? Is there something wrong with the bed?”
“No, no.” He put his arm around her, hugging tight. “It’s fine, and she likes everyone a lot. She’s just a night owl. That’s when she works. She don’t go to sleep until three.”
“Ah. Well, then, you ought to let her know that, barring tomorrow morning, she ain’t got to get up and be social. The poor girl is starting to drag.”
“I will. Don’t be upset if she sleeps all the way to Dallas for the sales.” That would just nip any pissyness on the aunt’s part in the bud, if he made a big deal out of it.
“I promise. I like her, Cotton. Did you know that she sat down with Ali’s boyfriend and kicked his ass on one of them video games? She also did this deal for me on the ‘puter where I can put in stuff about the hay and feed and it tallies it all up.”
“Well, that’s cool.” His girl was so smart. He just loved that. It made him feel smarter by default or something.
“Yeah.” She shook her head, grinned. “Her fudge didn’t set, though. I put it in the fridge in the back. Hopefully it’ll freeze up some. You’ll have to eat some anyway.”
“You know it. If I have to use a spoon.” How bad could it be? His sister had made pralines that had eaten the counter once.
“It’s not that bad, but she’s a little nervous.”
“I am of the cast iron stomach.” Cotton patted his belly with his free hand. “Thanks, Momma.”
“I love you, son. No drinking if y’all are driving.” Momma tilted her head, smiled at him. “You ought to teach her to drive your truck, you know? A lady needs to know how to drive.”
“I will.” Eventually. She had to get used to riding and all, first. She was doing okay, but it was all baby steps.
“Good deal.” She kissed his cheek. “There’s hot chocolate in the Thermos.”
Wait. Hadn’t she been trying to get him to stay home?
“Uh. Thanks.” He kissed her back before bolting. No way was he pushing his luck.
Emmy was in the front room, playing some game with his boy cousins. She looked like a million bucks, in a pair of jeans and…man, that was one of his old flannels, worn over a tight little tank top.
His jaw dropped about a mile, and he stared, only pulling it together when Adam Kyle sidled over to poke him. “You don’t smoke no more.”
“Uh-huh.” He grinned over. “And you don’t drink in the barn no more, do you?”
“No. No, I don’t.” The kid’s cheeks went hot. “She plays hard, man. Knows all the tricks, and she’s a girl.”
Ali snorted, rolled her eyes.
“Uh-huh. Beware.” Cotton clapped the kid on the back and went to collect his girl.
Emmy grinned up at him, and the boys all groaned as she pushed a bunch of buttons. “Hey, baby. You ready?”
“I am.” He ignored the hoots and hollers and bent to kiss her cheek. “Let’s go. We even have hot chocolate.”
“Yeah? Wicked.” She stood up and took his hand. “Can I borrow that little jacket of yours tonight?”
Oh, hell yeah.
“You bet. It’s in the truck.” He steered her toward the door. “Night, y’all.”
Emmy waved, one arm wrapped around his waist. “It’s nipply out here tonight.”
“Uh-huh. It’s a good look for you.” Her boobs always looked good. But in the cold they got all…standy-outy.
She flicked one of his nipples, right through his shirt. “Ditto.”
“Oh, damn.” His cock stood right up to be counted. Hello!
Emmy’s laughter lasted all the way to the truck. When they walked around the back, he swatted her ass, hard. She jumped about a mile and squealed. Cotton made sure no one was watching before twirling her around to kiss her. She kissed him back like there was no tomorrow—her laughter pressing into his lips.
“Mmm.” He hugged her, dancing her around in a little circle. “You ready to go see sparklies?”
“I so am. Been looking forward to it all day!”
“Me too.” They’d wrapped presents and helped cook and frosted cookies. Now was their time.
She let him put her into the truck, then she scooted right up against him when he got in. He did love the two-headed driver look in the rearview. Cotton got them moving, heading into town. She oohed and aahed over the lights, all the way in. He made sure to drive by the biggest, weirdest, campiest displays that he could think of. There was one that had lights that flashed in time to a local radio station, so you could set your dial to the FM number and watch them go. That tickled both of them to death. She loved the weird decorations, too—the handmade and freakish, the just plain nuts one. There was old man Lewis, who had Santa in a toilet bowl on his lawn. That one made her laugh until she cried. It was just plain fascinating to see all this old hat stuff through her e
yes.
He drove up toward the Gentry’s, found a good place to park where they could look down, see just about everything.
“Look at that.” It was magic. The night was clear, cold. Perfect.
“It’s beautiful.” They crawled up onto the air mattress, blankets piled all around them.
“I like the view here, too.” His shirt. His jacket. Emmy all curled up on him.
“Flatterer.” Her lips were painted a deep, dark red that just fascinated him.
“Nope. Just the truth.” Cotton had to taste that mouth, see if it tasted like cherries. Emmy opened up for him, the flavor more cinnamon than cherry, but so hot.
Cotton moaned, kissing deep, his tongue pushing in. He didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want her to think they’d come up here just for this. But damn. He loved how the stud on her tongue felt when they kissed, loved imagining it on his cock, too.
That made all sorts of things tingle. Lord.
“Cotton…” When she said his name he felt about ten feet tall.
“Mmmhmm. You want some hot chocolate?” See him be a gentleman.
“No. I want you.” She pressed closer, hands sliding under his jacket.
“Oh, good. Chocolate later.” Thank God. He reached down, grabbing her ass with one hand. So round. He loved her curves.
“Uh-huh.” She arched her back, soft, sweet little belly pushing into him.
“Emmy.” Cotton kissed his way down her neck, right down under the collar of her shirt, licking at her collarbone. She smelled so good, all woman, and he wanted more of her, wanted to hear her happy little cries. He pulled her up close to his side with one hand, working at her clothes with the other. He needed her skin. The jacket and shirt opened easily, her tank top shoved up, exposing her body.
“You’re so damned pretty, honey. I just can’t get enough of you.” He pushed his hands up under her breasts.
“That’s a good thing.” Her nipples perked right up, hard and dark in the little white bra.
“It is.” He gave her a grin. “It just still amazes me a little.” There’d never been a girl he couldn’t walk away from.
“Me, too. Me, too, baby.” Her hand cupped his cheek, drew them together for another kiss.
The kiss took his breath, made all the weirdness go away. Not that there was much, because he just liked her, damn it. The wind was blowing something fierce, and they stretched out on the air mattress, the truck shielding them. They dragged the blankets up like a fort, really turning the heat up.
“Mmm. You, me, alone. I approve.” She hummed, hands working his shirt open.
“Me, too, honey. Me, too.” Her nipples dragged along his skin, even through her bra.
God. Cotton bent without thinking, sucking one into his mouth. The cotton wasn’t fabulous, taste wise, but it made her moan.
She wriggled, fingers working on something between her breasts, then the bra popped open. Oh, wow. That was cool. Instant access.
This time he got flesh, that pretty nipple hard and heavy in his mouth. So much better. Cotton sucked, flicking the ring he found with his tongue. Each time he did that, he got these amazing little sounds, these low moans and hungry cries. Cotton rubbed up on her, moving up to kiss her again. She tasted so good, he just couldn’t resist.
She spread her legs, let him settle between them.
“Love how soft you are.” He was hard for her. Real hard.
Her hips rolled up, that softness pressing right where he needed. Fucking jeans, in the way.
“We need to…” He pushed back and got his hands between them, working at clothes. Her fingers were helping, tugging at his belt buckle, sliding his zipper down. “Ah.” He couldn’t help the little sound of relief that left him.
Emmy patted his cock. “Poor trapped baby.”
“Uh-huh.” The pressure had been horrible.
Those fingers wrapped around him, moving slow and easy.
“Oh. Yeah.” He remembered he had hands, too, and he got them cooking, touching her. He loved how wet he made her, how hot. Sweet lady. God, he loved the taste of her skin, too. Made him hungry for so much more.
“You’re hot.” The tip of his dick rubbed against the inside of her wrist.
“All the better to warm you up.” She’d be fiery hot inside, and he knew it, but it sounded good.
She nodded, chuckled softly. “You do. You do it for me.”
“Kiss me some more, honey.” They could talk or they could kiss. He liked the talk, but her mouth set him on fire.
She focused on his lips, tongue pushing in, exploring around his mouth.
Cotton hummed, kissing back, the slide of lips and tongue making him a happy man. He tugged at her nipples, first one, then the other.
Her eyes were closed, fingers getting clumsy on his cock.
“You good, honey?” he asked against her mouth, sliding one hand back down as he remembered she had other parts.
“Huh?” Fuck, she was wet, slick, and hot as hell.
“I mean, are you…?” Oh, fuck it. She was fine. He slipped his fingers inside her, stretching her a little.
“Cotton…” She bore down on his hand, making this deep sound. Oh, yeah. Fine. Better than fine.
“You’re stunning, honey. So mine.”
“Uh-huh. Love your hands. Don’t stop.” She rode him, sure and steady.
“Not going to.” No, way. In fact, he got his other hand down there, too, finding her clit with his fingers.
“Oh!” She grabbed his shoulders and held on as his thumb nudged that little ring.
“Emmy. Making me crazy as all hell.” He was gonna just…boom.
“Uh-huh. Please.” Pale and curvy, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
He kissed down one breast, taking the tip between his lips, sucking hard. He worked his fingers inside her, as his thumb rubbed her clit. Hot, hot, hot.
Wild. She was wild underneath him, pushing so hard the truck springs squeaked. Cotton pulled everything back for five seconds, long enough to move his fingers out and his cock in. He just couldn’t wait no more.
“Yes.” She pulled him down for a kiss, her body letting him in so easy.
Yes. Yes, yes, yes, merry Christmas to him. Cotton moved back and forth—riding was what he knew best, after all.
Emmy slammed back up against him, engaged and eager, not passive at all. Her legs came up, wrapped around his hips, and he had to grab the sliding blankets when cold air crept in. They both whooped, and Cotton laughed. He loved just being with her.
“Is… Is this where we start singing Jingle Bells?”
“Dashing through the snow…” He gurgled when she tickled him, bucking hard above her.
Her laughter rang out. “Are you gonna come upon a midnight clear?”
Man, she was thinking too easy.
Cotton bit her shoulder. “Gonna…come. Somewhere.” Yeah. Too bad he couldn’t think back.
“In me.” Her lips were on his ear. “So I can feel it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, honey.” He could so do that. When her nails bit into his ass, Cotton did just that, coming hard for her.
“Oh. Oh, damn…” She rode it out with him, holding on tight.
“That’s it, Emmy. That’s it.” He didn’t know if she’d come, couldn’t tell, and for the last three seconds of his orgasm, he didn’t give a shit.
She kissed him, tongue sliding over his lips.
“Oh, honey.” Now he could care. “What do you need, huh?”
“Just… It won’t take much.” He could feel her, shaking around him.
“Okay. I got you.” In fact, he did. Still right there against his fingers. He pushed at her clit, rubbing in circles.
“Oh. Oh. Oh.” Those little sounds were the hottest thing. She was so damned sweet like this, head thrown back, lips parted, her breasts bouncing. Jesus.
He could feel her, all around his cock, squeezing him, working him as she came. Damn. Damn. Cotton shook, his breath coming in great gasps. “Em.�
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“Uh-huh.” She slumped back onto the air mattress, panting.
“There we go.” See? He had her back. And her front.
Emmy nodded, blinking all sweet and slow.
Cotton got the fuzzy towel he’d remembered to pack and cleaned them up before snuggling. They needed the blankets more than ever as their sweat evaporated.
She dug out the hot chocolate, the sweet steam making their little cocoon smell like Christmas.
“Better tonight, honey?” he asked, licking chocolate foam off her lip.
“Mmm. It’s been perfect. It’s beautiful. You having fun?”
“I am.” He so was. Stuffing stockings with his momma and company wasn’t even a close second.
Her head rested on his shoulder. “Thank you for inviting me, baby. It’s been amazing.”
“Yeah? Not annoying?” His family could be overwhelming. To him. He was related.
“No. No, I’m having fun. It’s been so different.”
“Cool.” He knew there had to be things making her crazy. They did for him when he stayed with her. But he was glad she could find the fun in it.
She smiled at him again, the Christmas lights shining in her eyes.
Cotton thought maybe, just maybe, he was a little bit in love with her.
Either that or the Christmas spirit was on him a lot harder than it had ever been.
Chapter Twelve
“You know, Emily, you might try something less…gauche.”
“I understand that rules are different for women these days, but a lady is a lady.”
“Honestly, I don’t understand these awful people with their trashy tattoos—no offense, Emily.”
Em was fairly sure that Cotton’s Aunt Denise was the single nastiest bitch she’d ever had the misfortune to meet. The evil woman had insisted on snarking the entire drive to Dallas, had complained about food, parking, traffic, Cotton, cowboys, Dallas…
Em was practicing her patience, practicing watching her tongue.
Practicing a lot of texting back home to Mouse and Ricki.
“You know,” Denise said, wrinkling her nose. “If I had children, I would ban those awful phones. They make people rude, inattentive.”