The Mistletoe Effect

by Melissa Cutler

  While he was thrilled that he’d distracted her from her family’s dunderheaded statements, there was no way he could walk back into the building without something covering his front because of his hard-on and the way the cock ring pushed his goods out front of him, giving him the bulge of all conspicuous bulges. The ring didn’t even allow for creative tucking or sliding his dick along his hip bone.

  The vibrating wasn’t loud enough that people in the party would hear it over the revelry, nor was it overly intense, being that it was concentrated in the battery-powered nub sitting atop the root of his dick. But it was enough to keep him in a state of constant awareness of his arousal.

  He could handle the short walk down the stairs and out the building in that state, but not much more, which was fine, because he was past ready to have Carina naked and beneath him. “You ready to get out of here with me?”

  “I sent Alex home tonight, so I have to stay until the end of the party.”

  Decker reached up her skirt again and cupped her ass. “Bullshit, you do. We’re newlyweds. We have a built-in excuse for leaving early.”

  She suckled his lower lip. “I have responsibilities, workers who gave up their free night at the last minute to pull this off. How would it look if I blew this off?”

  He growled. “Woman, don’t you dare mention blowing anything off unless you’re prepared to get down on your knees. And I don’t think chafed knees is the look you’re going for in a short skirt like that.”

  “You’re just going to have to be patient. Let’s go mingle and have another drink.”

  He chuckled, picturing himself having a serious discussion about horses or ranch life while his crotch vibrated, yet clearly, she was serious about her duty to stay. But that didn’t mean they had to go back inside right that very second.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he spun her so that her back was up against the wall in the darkest shadow of the balcony. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, his fingers delved into the wet, heated flesh between her thighs.

  He captured her moan with a kiss. “We’re not going anywhere just quite yet.”

  She brought her hands up around his neck and let her head fall forward, pressing her cheek against his, clinging to him in a way that made him feel like the most powerful man in the universe, controlling the world’s axis with the tip of his finger.

  Her breath skittered over his cheeks in fits and starts as he traced relentless little circles around her clit.

  “What about the promise in your note this morning?” she said, her voice thick with passion.

  “What promise was that?”

  He lightly squeezed her clit between two fingers, curious if she’d be able to speak through such concentrated pleasure. “That I’d—” The rest of her sentence dissolved into a shaky exhalation.

  Smiling, he kissed her, getting his tongue involved as his fingers dipped lower and pressed inside her. Groaning, she broke their kiss and rolled her head against the stucco wall, her eyes closed. He pumped his fingers and trailed kisses on her exposed neck.

  “You said …” She paused, panting. Her eyelids cracked open and a smile danced on her parted lips. “You said I’d be the one issuing commands from now on.”

  In his excitement about her sexy plan for the cocktail party, he’d forgotten about that. The vibrations of the cock ring hadn’t exactly helped him focus, what with all his blood rushing in the opposite direction of his brain.

  “You’re right. I did. And look at you, asserting yourself right now, holding me to my word.”

  She smoothed her hand over his hair. “I have big plans for you tonight involving the Naughty Newlyweds basket.”

  “You’re the one who said you can’t leave the party yet.”

  Her smile faltered, and he instantly regretted bringing up her work commitments. To distract her, he thrust his fingers out and in, working her clit with his thumb until the worry erased from her features.

  “You’re right about the note. Tell me what you want now and I’ll do it,” he said. “Do you want to wait until we get home later or do you want me to make you come now for the first time?” He put the emphasis on the first time so she’d know this wasn’t going to be a one-and-done kind of night.

  He first heard his answer in the way she added a slight bend to her knees and rotated her hips, urging his fingers deeper into her body. “Make me come.”

  Her whispered command and the way her body trembled in ever-heightening arousal, mixed with the excruciating pleasure of the cock ring vibrations, nearly did him in. He was torn between reaching his free hand down his pants and getting the inevitable first orgasm over with and edging it out while he took care of Carina, then endured the rest of the party. What he really wanted to do was fuck her hard and fast right there against the wall, but her family and dozens of guests were on the other side of the wall from where he and Carina stood and he hadn’t defended her honor against Cord McGraw and the other resort workers only to sully it in a new way should someone walk out and see them. They were already tempting fate as it was.

  His first attempt to speak again came out as a croak. Clearing his throat, he fought to ignore the messages his dick was sending to him by concentrating on the way Carina’s body felt against his, her hands in his hair, her face buried in his neck, until he’d calmed down enough to get a few words out. “Your wish is my command.”

  He withdrew his fingers and concentrated all his effort on her clit and creating a building rhythm in his movement. She brought her forehead to his chest, breathing into him. He loved the way holding her felt, loved witnessing her soft, sweet body coming undone in his arms.

  Then he felt her hands working below the hem of his shirt, sliding against his stomach, then lower still. She reached into his boxer briefs and took out his cock. It hung in the night air, heavy and hot and at the mercy of the cock ring’s vibrations. Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she raised her head and met his gaze. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed with arousal.

  She was so beautiful and the ecstasy of her hand on his dick was so profound that Decker couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. No clever banter, no words of thanks for giving him what his body needed. All he had in his mind was the bliss of her hand wrapped around him, the wet heat of her body where his fingers circled, and the way it felt to stand together, their bodies and minds moving in a unified dance of intimacy. He’d never experienced anything quite like it, and he’d done a lot of living in his near thirty-one years.

  As he worked her flesh, she tugged on his, stretching his skin and working up a friction that brought him right to the brink. He brought his face down and nuzzled his nose and lips in her hair, closing his eyes. She nestled her face in the crook of his neck, her parted lips pressing onto his skin.

  The world went quiet, save for their labored breath, the vibrating hum of the cock ring, and the rustle of their clothes as they arched and squirmed and fought, together, for release. He felt Carina’s orgasm before she reacted outwardly. Her muscles pulsed; then she rose onto her tiptoes, her spine straightening. The hand pumping his cock stopped. At her first whimper, he dropped his lips onto hers and kissed her. She writhed on his hand, and the arm she’d lassoed around his neck crushed him close to her.

  When she came down from her high, she broke the kiss and grinned at him, her eyes dewy and satisfied.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  She nodded, pecked his lips with another kiss, then sank to a squat.

  He hooked his hands in her armpits in an attempt to pull her up. “Carina, baby, no. Someone could walk out any second.”

  She licked his crown. “Just let me do this for you. Besides, we’re married. We have a right to touch each other whenever and however we want.”

  Not exactly true, though he appreciated the sentiment. “Carina, please.”

  “You forget who’s in command right now,” she murmured right before her mouth closed over him. He knew he wouldn’t take long, not only b
ecause of the hand job and cock ring she’d primed him with but also because he’d learned that past week that she had some serious skill when it came to oral sex, one of the many discoveries about her that had surprised him.

  True to form, she did some kind of swirl with her tongue that lit a fuse in him and it only took about two-point-one seconds for him to stop caring who might walk onto the balcony at any moment. He smoothed tendrils of hair away from her forehead and wallowed in the pleasure of her mouth taking him in, her lips gripping him tight.

  Her hand closed around the base of his shaft, pumping in time with her mouth. Gazing down at her, he saw a flash—her wedding band on the hand jerking his dick. That was all it took. “Carina, stop. I’m coming.”

  But she didn’t stop. With his face raised to the heavens and his mouth contorted in a silent cry of pleasure, he held her head in place and surged into her until he was empty and thoroughly sated.

  He turned off the cock ring’s vibrator and refastened his pants, watching in awe as she stood and licked her lips, then straightened her cocktail dress. She was a marvel to behold—and he wasn’t talking about how she gave good head. Outwardly, she was this meek, mousy woman—the maid of honor dressed like Santa Claus and bowing to her parents’ and grandmother’s every demand. But, just like her silk Halloween panties, underneath all that straitlaced exterior she was hiding one of the naughtiest, sexiest women he’d ever been with.

  “You know what, Carina? You are wicked through and through.”

  She smoothed a hand over his chest. “What does that say about you? You’re the one who brings it out in me.”

  He’d heard it said that marriage changes a person. Maybe being married to him had turned her kinky. He liked the idea that he was the one who brought out the best, and the naughtiest, in her. One thing was for sure: If what they shared as a fake married couple was the anomaly it seemed to be—the mind-blowing sex, the stolen kisses and looks during the day, the anticipation of sleeping with her in his arms every night, the way she lingered in his mind his every waking moment—then she was ruining him for other women. How could real marriage live up to what he shared with Carina?

  Chapter Eight

  Carina walked through the front door at 11:30 p.m., dead on her feet but reenergized by the scent of marinara sauce and baking cheese that had greeted her in the mudroom.

  Of the two of them, Decker was the better cook. He worked almost as many hours as she did, so his meals were nothing fancy, but he often left notes to her on the kitchen counter about leftover spaghetti or Mexican chicken and rice or the like in the fridge—a gesture worth more than any fancy meal could ever match.

  Decker emerged from the kitchen wearing nothing but an apron and holding a bowl of salad. “Hi. Long day?”

  All the stress of work went whooshing out of her. She lowered her bag, armload of binders, and purse on the floor. “It was. But I’m glad to be home, especially since it smells like you cooked. To what do I owe that honor? You’re usually asleep by now.”

  He scratched the back of his neck, looking self-conscious. “It occurred to me today that we hadn’t yet eaten a proper meal together and we only have six days left to be married. So I decided to fix that.”

  Her heart dropped; the stress returned in spades. Every time she’d been tempted to tally up how many days they had left together, she’d forced herself to stop, refusing to let the reality of their ticking-clock situation put a damper on her happiness. The truth was, she didn’t want to stop being married to Decker. She loved having someone to come home to and share a bed with and loved that that person was him. She loved that they’d found their relationship groove right away, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for them to be a couple.

  The past weeks with him had been some of the best of her life—sexually, emotionally. With his encouragement, she was on her way to becoming her best self. Maybe, someday, she’d even be brave enough to pursue her dream job like he was. It was as though in pretending marriage to Decker her spirit had been freed. For the first time ever, she wanted December to go on indefinitely.

  Her eyes traveled to the dining room. The wedding dress had been moved to the far end of the table along with her sewing supplies. With her new routine to wake with Decker in the morning and work on the dress for a couple hours before heading to her office, she was making great progress and the dress was turning out beautifully. The best she’d ever created.

  On the near side of the dining table, two places had been set. Between them, a snowman candle had burned almost all the way through the top snowball. Decker set the salad bowl on the table and nodded to the boxes of Christmas decorations piled up in the corner of the living room. “It was the only candle I could find for our candlelit dinner.”

  The hint of nerves in his voice was a sweet contrast to his brazen choice of outfit. “It’s perfect,” she said. “Nice apron, too.”

  “Yeah? You should probably know I’m not naked under this thing.”

  Bummer. But before she could voice her disappointment, he spun, showing off his butt in the pair of Halloween-themed cotton boxers she’d sewn for him. The sight made her laugh, it was such a nice surprise. She’d ordered the skull, bat, and spider-patterned fabric the day after the wedding but had only squeezed in the time to sew the boxers a couple days earlier. She’d gift-wrapped them and left them on the bed for him to find, but she’d never expected him to actually wear them.

  “Halloween looks good on you,” she said.

  “Thanks to a talented seamstress.”

  He returned to the kitchen. She followed, planning to help him get the rest of dinner on the table and keep his butt in view. “I told you, it’s my favorite holiday. You get to be someone you’re not, you get to eat a lot of candy, and you get to frighten children on purpose and it’s totally legit.”

  In front of the oven, he cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb across her lips. “You’re right. What’s not to love?”

  “Exactly.” Turning her face into his palm, she closed her eyes and shoved aside the pang of longing at the idea of not spending next Halloween with him. It was more than ten months in the future, but she had no doubt that the two of them would have a blast together. “Maybe you could sneak down this way and join me for Halloween.”

  His hand stiffened against her cheek. She kept her eyes closed as her heart gave a painful squeeze. Maybe that had been too forward of her to ask. Maybe he wanted a clean break when he started over in Fort Worth. She wouldn’t blame him if he did; Briscoe Ranch Resort had a way of pulling people in and not letting go. She could see how a clean break might be best for him.

  “The resort is only a four-hour drive from Fort Worth, but my new job is going to be demanding, as demanding as yours, I imagine. I’m sure I’ll be able to get away sometimes, but until I’m there, I don’t really know what to expect as far as time off.” There was an edge of frustration in his voice, one that echoed her own frustrations.

  Four hours away wasn’t an impossible distance for a long-distance relationship, but Decker had brought up one very important, very depressing fact. There was a reason she didn’t date much, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to. Her career simply didn’t allow her the time to devote to relationships. Every time she’d tried to get serious with a guy, her demanding work schedule eventually proved too much—and that was with relationships with men who lived within an hour radius of the resort, not the hundreds of miles away that Decker would be. She considered herself a realist and not a pessimist, but the odds of them being able to maintain a healthy relationship given those circumstances were dismal, at best.

  “If anyone would understand the kind of stress and pressure you’ll be under, it’s me,” she said, opening her eyes. She pulled away from his touch. “Granite Hill Ranch is one of the largest operations in Texas. I’ve seen the size of the stables, the number of horses. This is the dream job you’ve been waiting your whole life for. You have to go all-in, just like I do for my job
. There’s a reason we’re both successful at what we do and it isn’t because we’re busy cultivating our social lives. Neither of us is going to have much personal time next year.”

  He pinned her with a troubled look of longing and frustration, his nostrils flared and his eyes dark. She held his gaze, though her eyes stung with the unexpected threat of tears.

  His mouth opened, then closed again. He wrenched his gaze to the floor, shaking his head.

  She cleared her throat, then swallowed, attempting to dislodge the lump in it so she could salvage the romantic mood of the dinner he’d planned. “How about we eat before midnight rolls around and our late-night dinner turns into an early-morning breakfast?”

  He took her hand as she turned toward the dining room. “Carina …”

  She willed a smile to her lips. “What did you cook? Smells like Italian.”

  He gave her a hard, searching look. She schooled her features and tried a smile on.

  After a weighted exhalation, he nodded as though acquiescing to her desire to drop the painful topic. “Emily hooked me up with the ingredients for chicken Parmesan. She said you like her recipe for that.”

  From the oven, he pulled a casserole dish filled with bubbling, cheesy goodness.

  This time, Carina smiled for real. She and Emily had crossed paths at least a dozen times that day, and Emily hadn’t said a peep about this. It made Carina happy to think of her best friend conspiring with Decker to put on a surprise dinner. “I do. That looks delicious.”

  A few minutes later, they were seated at the table, digging into the meal. He really was a good cook, far better than she.

  He gestured with his glass of whiskey on ice toward the wedding dress. “Your dress is looking good. It’s almost like little elves are coming in on the sly, making progress on it when we’re not around, because I don’t see you working on it that much.”

  “Thank you. Yeah, it’s turning out great. Before I moved in with you, I used to sew to unwind after work, but, uh, you’ve been helping me with that in other ways—”