A Heaven Hill Christmas

by Laramie Briscoe

  Addie was right. The garage was heated but it was still chilly during the winter. Now that most of the guys were older, they liked to stay warm whenever possible. Hoping no one was watching, Addie thrust a drink in Tatum’s hand and shoved her towards the hallway leading out to the garage. She walked as slowly as she could force herself to, when really what she wanted to do was run after him. Attempting to calm herself down Tatum forced herself to take a minute, take a deep breath, gulp down the glass of alcohol then open the garage door.

  The door hinges sounded so loud in the silence of the garage and she wished she wasn’t making such an entrance, but what was she gonna do and maybe here he couldn’t run away from her again.

  As she turned the corner to the back of the garage where they had an extra fridge, a couch, and a deep freezer – she spotted him.

  The two of them stared at each other in silence.

  He was hotter than she remembered him being even a few days ago. He’d trimmed his goatee up and it looked like he’d trimmed the sides of his hair. The overall length fell to his shoulders, but the sides were buzzed. It drove her nuts, but on nights like this, it gave him a bad boy look she couldn’t get enough of. The gray shirt he wore showed off his green eyes and the tight fit showed how hard it was for him to breathe right now. She hoped like hell it was because of what he saw when he looked at her.

  “Remy?” The word was a question, and she waited. Waited to see how he’d respond.

  *

  If he’d thought she looked sexy standing in his sister-in-law’s bakery, nothing had prepared him for how she looked right now, in this instant.

  “Tatum, this isn’t a good idea,” he tried to warn her.

  He was hot, so fucking hot. Probably from the alcohol he’d consumed, but damn she was burning him up. Either because of the coolness of the garage or because of her reaction to him, her nipples pebbled visibly against the white fabric of her dress. And goddamn, that fucking dress?

  It should have been registered on its own sex offender database, because anyone who looked at her wearing it, was one hundred percent imagining what she looked like out of it. Or even half-way out of it. He had the most intense visual of her straddling his lap with the top of the dress pulled down, the edge of her bra exposed, and his tongue swirling against that hard nub poking out at him.

  He watched the way she squared her shoulders and right in front of him she became a woman determined to have what she wanted. It heated his skin even further, and he took his cut off, throwing it against the back of the couch, before rolling up the sleeves on the shirt he wore.

  “Don’t make decisions for me Remy. I know what’s a good idea for me and what’s not. I’m an adult. Eighteen and everything. I’m a grown ass woman with my own car, my own bank account. I even know how to pleasure myself. But do you know what I want more than anything?” she phrased it like a question, hoping he would take the bait as she advanced slowly.

  He swallowed hard, bringing the palm of his hand down to adjust his erection into a more comfortable position behind his zipper. “W-what do you want more than anything?”

  She’d gotten close enough that they were just a breath away from each other, and because she couldn’t handle it anymore, she reached out, touching his neck the way he’d touched hers in Southern Delights, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “I want you. I want you to touch me. I want you to give me the orgasm I’m so good at giving myself.”

  “I’m goin’ to hell,” she heard the whisper seconds before he curled one hand behind her neck and curled the other around her hip, pulling her so that their two bodies might as well have been one.

  Remy knew he was a goner as soon as his lips touched hers.

  ‡

  Chapter Six

  Tatum had never felt anything like the all-consuming lust that blasted through her as soon as Remy grabbed her hip and pulled her deep into his body. She’d thought she had but damn, she was wrong. Her fingers grasped at his shirt, trying to ground herself in the feelings, when she felt his bare palms slip up under the hem of her dress. The sharp intake of breath, and the way he nipped at her lip indicated he’d discovered she’d worn a thong.

  “Fuck, Tate,” he moaned as he pulled his lips from hers.

  She almost cried as he abandoned her lips and smeared his mouth down her neck. She felt the sharp nip of his teeth down to the core of her body. It caused her nipples to tighten further against the lace of strapless bra, and before she knew what she was doing, she was rubbing up against him.

  “Please, Rem,” she gasped out when she felt one of his hands on her ass venture back over her hip, and closer to the wetness and heat she felt between her thighs.

  “Has anybody touched you?” he growled the question into her ear.

  “A little,” she admitted. Of course she’d experimented, but no one had ever given her the feelings he did.

  Grasping her chin, he forced her eyes to meet his. She loved the look there, the burning intensity she saw.

  “Forget anyone else’s touch before mine,” he nipped at her lips. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”

  She knew without a doubt he would and that was just what she wanted.

  *

  Tatum was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and no matter how long or hard he kissed her, she didn’t lose that fuck-me red color on her lips. What he wouldn’t give to see it spread against his cock as she held his length in her mouth. Not sure either one of their legs would hold them up any longer, Remy moved backwards, pulling her along with him until his knees hit the couch. Having a seat, he hissed, before standing up again.

  “Dick’s so hard I can’t sit down,” he mumbled before he let go of her hand and wrenched the button holding the denim together apart, unzipping his pants and pushing them slightly over his hips.

  He caught sight of Tatum’s hungry gaze on the hard length that was just begging for her attention.

  “One day, Tate, we’ll have time and you’ll be old enough.”

  Was he crazy? What was this shit he was spewing from his mouth? He didn’t even recognize it. All he knew was he had to feel her skin, he had to show her what an orgasm he could give her would be like, and fuck he had to come too, because if he didn’t he was going to kill someone.

  Sitting back down on the couch, he grasped her hips and pulled her across his lap, making her straddle the cock that – even in his boxers – tented out lewdly.

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” he told her as she worked her hand down his body. Instead he grabbed her hand and put it on her left breast.

  “Make yourself feel good, Tatum. You said you get yourself off. Help me bring you off, show me what you like.”

  A red blush worked its way up her neck, but he didn’t let her be embarrassed with him, not now, not here. They had limited time until the effects of the alcohol dissipated and he listened to his conscience again.

  Pulling down the other side of her dress, taking the bra with him, he pulled her nipple into his mouth, using his teeth to nip the flesh before he soothed the quick burn with his tongue. She relaxed, her thighs expanding to push harder against his body as both of them worked on her tits.

  She was rocking against him, whether she was aware of it or not. She was hot, so fucking hot, he could feel it on his boxers, could feel her wetness coating his cock through their clothes.

  Snaking his hand between their bodies, he shoved aside the tiny strip of her thong and gently used his fingers to slip inside her body.

  “Oh my God, Remy,” she buried her head in his neck, panting heavily.

  “This is it, Tatum. Just let me make you feel good.”

  If he had any doubt she was hot, it was nothing compared to actually experiencing it. She opened up to his fingers, rode his palm, shoving her clit against the rough skin, bit and licked his neck, and groaned in his ear. He’d wear her mark, he knew, but it was worth it. He’d wear it like a fucking badge of honor and be proud to do it.

  Before he kn
ew it, she’d moved her hands down to his boxers and pushed the elastic back, grasping his cock in her hand.

  “Tatum,” he warned. He was on a hair trigger. He had everything he’d ever wanted in his lap, in his mouth, riding his hand. He was going to spill in five seconds if she kept it up.

  “I want you to come with me,” she breathed against his ear, burying her scream in his neck as he sucked so hard on her nipple his cheeks hollowed out.

  And then it was as if they both broke. He could feel her pussy tighten as he felt the lengthening of his cock and before he could pull her hand away, he’d erupted all over her fingers and his stomach.

  They thrust against each other, riding out their orgasms. With a final lick against her hard nipple, he threw his head back against the couch, gasping deeply. If he was still prone to asthma attacks, he knew he’d be having one right now.

  Eventually, he came back to himself and realized what the hell they had done.

  “Tatum,” he whispered as his lips brushed against her hair. “We can’t do this again, it was a mistake.”

  She froze in his arms, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

  “Didn’t seem like it was a mistake a few minutes ago.”

  Her voice did little to hide the hurt, and he could hear it plain as day. “There’s nothing here for us, Tatum. You think I can pick you up, carry you to my dorm, and take your virginity right now?” he shoved himself into his boxers and fought to close his jeans against his still-hard cock.

  “Who says I’d give it to you?” she shot him a look as she tried to scramble off his lap.

  His hand grabbed her thigh, pulling her tighter against him as he shoved two fingers deep into her body.

  She accepted them, closing her eyes, and again trying to rock against him.

  “Your body doesn’t lie, babe. You want it, but I’m not the guy to give it to you.”

  He didn’t miss the tears that built behind her eyes, unshed. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shook her head. She lifted her chin and shook back the tears as she firmed her lips into a determined smile.

  “Y’know what? Merry Christmas Remy. I hope you enjoyed your present.”

  Before he could answer, she had gotten up, turned on those high heels, and left the garage.

  How did he tell her it was the best Christmas gift he’d ever gotten?

  ‡

  Chapter Seven

  Tatum’s blue eyes took in the party-goers around her. In different parts of the room, she could see members of her graduating class, some kids that were now seniors, and a few college kids. God, this had never been her thing, she’d never found high school or college parties worth anything to her. She could see everything that went on at them and more, at the club parties. Plus, this was a mob mentality – everyone here went along with everyone else, and it was so boring. Nobody had any individuality. Normally, she’d have tossed the invitation in the trash can and not even thought twice about it. She would have spent the night at the club’s New Year’s party and have an actual good time with her friends and family.

  Tonight though, she was on a mission.

  “Do you see anybody?” Addie asked as they surveyed the room.

  Tatum took a drink from the bottle of Strawberry Boone’s Farm she carried in her hand. It was the bottom shelf stuff, guaranteed to get you loaded in the least amount of time. She was guessing the alcohol content was more than it said on the bottle, because she was pretty sure she could start a fire with her breath. Of course some of that could be because she wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight she felt she needed to be. She needed the extra help calming her nerves and the push to help her go through with her plan.

  “Still lookin’,” she continued gazing out over the bodies that were packed tightly on the makeshift dance floor. It should really be called a meat market. Girls were out there with hardly any clothes on, guys were out there with no shirts on, boldly assessing the under-dressed girls. It was all so awkward, but at the same time, she knew she had to get comfortable with it – even if the one guy she really wanted to see wasn’t here and he wasn’t going to be here.

  No one had ever made her feel even a fraction of what Remy made her feel just being in the same room with him. He didn’t even have to look at her or touch her, and she was ready to explode the minute they shared the same bit of air. What was it about him? Why did she react so strongly to him – and so not strongly to anyone else?

  Why couldn’t she find someone that even looked interesting? Wasn’t New Year’s Eve the night everyone wanted to get laid? Tonight was the grand night of hookups, wasn’t it? How many times had she heard of one-night stands on nights like this? Where was the guy that would take care of her pesky little problem?

  Taking another swallow of her drink, she gave herself another pep talk. The guy didn’t have to be perfect. Hell, he couldn’t be perfect because to her, only Remy was perfection. And she could definitely kiss the hope of that relationship goodbye for now. She wasn’t going to be played into giving him a piece of her when he didn’t give piece of himself in return. She still felt the embarrassment of how cool he’d been when he dismissed her… for the last fucking time; that was for damn sure.

  “Why are you doing this again?” Addie asked from where she stood beside her friend.

  “I don’t want him to see me as a little girl anymore. I feel like my virginity is something that’s holding him back. He said he wouldn’t take it, so it’s mine to get rid of how I want to,” she swallowed roughly against the humiliation she’d suffered when he’d told her he they couldn’t be together.

  “Do you think maybe he’s trying to protect you?” Addie asked, trying to make her friend look her in the eye.

  Tatum shook her head. “Anybody ever tell you that you sound too much like your dad sometimes?”

  “My dad is highly respected by everyone, so I’d take that as a compliment,” she folded her arms over her chest.

  Feeling a little bit ornery and a whole lot drunk, Tatum didn’t take the time to mask her frustration. “Take it however you want to, but the reasons for me wanting to get rid of a label are my own.”

  “Tate.”

  Tatum hated the tone Addie was using with her. “What?” she snapped.

  “If you get in there with someone and it doesn’t feel right, I’ll be right outside. I’m not going to leave you alone. It’s not just a label that you’re trying to get rid of, you know.”

  Tatum felt like crying as she listened to the soft words her best friend spoke. Call it a reaction to what she was about to do, or to the alcohol she’d consumed, or the sneaking suspicion that she was more afraid than she’d ever let on, but she wanted to bawl and throw herself into Addie’s arms. “I appreciate that,” she said instead, straightening her shoulders and nodding at a group across the room. “That’s my man.”

  Addie’s eyes widened as she saw a guy they both knew from around the area. He’d actually graduated with Remy and it looked like he was holding court over in the shadows of the living room. He had women around him, but his eyes kept cutting over to where Tatum stood.

  If it had been any other night, and any other guy, Addie would have told her to go for it, Tatum knew that for a fact. He was model material, if you dug the lumberjack look mixed with the lead singer of a rock band. Many women did, and Tatum figured she could dig it for however long it took for them to do the deed. He winked at her as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and threw it in the ashtray sitting beside him.

  “Tate, that guy knows Remy.” Addie grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back as she turned to face the group.

  “As does half this whole fuckin’ town,” she spat as she pulled the bottle from her brown paper bag and downed the rest of it. She marched over to the group crowded around the big man. She put an extra sway in her hips, stuck her tits further out, and purposely pulled the shirt she wore higher up on her stomach. Her ears buzzed and she wasn’t sure if it was from the volume of the party, the alcohol
or her nerves, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to let it deter her.

  “Hey Gavin,” she gave him her best smile as she walked up, pushing the other women aside, making sure she was the center of attention.

  “Tatum Walker? Damn girl, you’ve sure grown up.”

  His eyes took in her body from the top of her head to the tips of her boots, and then landed right in the center where the swells of her breasts pushed against the fabric of her t-shirt. Pulling her hair over her shoulder, she twirled a strand around her finger, giving him her best ‘come hither’ look.

  “You wanna get out of here?” He asked, pushing off the wall and walking towards her, offering his hand.

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  As he led her up the stairs, her eyes met Addie’s and not for the first time, she wondered if what she was doing really was the right thing for her or not.

  ‡

  Chapter Eight

  Remy was in a piss-poor mood, had been since the night of the Christmas party and everything that had gone down with Tatum. He bit off the head of anyone foolish enough to ask if he was okay. He’d been eating lunch by himself, and overall had been a miserable fucking loner. Even right now, while everyone else was partying their asses off, his big date was being in the gym and beating the ever-loving shit out of a heavy bag. It was the only thing that seemed to calm him the last few days.

  Hearing his fists connect with the bag felt good, even if it was muted by the gloves he wore. His arms burned, his shoulders and back ached, his chest heaved, and sweat poured down his forehead and into his eyes; making them sting. The sting felt good though, because it distracted him from the guilt he felt for the way he’d treated Tatum. And that guilt was pressing down on him like he was trapped under a thousand-pound boulder.

  He’d felt every emotion on the spectrum since she’d walked out on him that night in the garage. Part of him was happy as fuck she’d been able to accept the attraction between them and even act on it. Another part was pissed that he hadn’t been able to give her what she wanted – what he wanted, but he knew the guilt would be ten times worse if he had. He wasn’t the type of guy to hit it and quit it on good girls. Normally the girls he took to bed had a sexual hang up or two—daddy issues, or maybe they liked their ass smacked a little too hard – but Tatum was untouched. She was absolutely perfect to him and he thought maybe that scared him more than anything. She was strong willed and headstrong and he was a little afraid of where that could lead. He was trying to be strong for what he believed were good reasons, the right reasons but it didn’t seem to matter that he’d been doing his best to protect her, to respect her family and to respect her.