WMIS 01.5 Under The Mistletoe With Me (3 page)

I close my
eyes again as relief surges through me and I grip his wrist with my hand,
keeping his hand against my cheek.

“Since
Sophie was born, we seem different,” I whisper and open my eyes. “We’re so busy
with her, you with the company, and me with the blog, and we’re always so damn
tired. I just miss you. And I know that we don’t make love like we used to, and
well…”

“You
assumed I’d go looking for it somewhere else.”

It’s not a
question. I cringe at the cold edge of his voice and focus down at his chest.

“I’ve
never given you a reason to believe that, Stacy.” God, he sounds angry, and I
can’t blame him.

“You’re
right, and I’m sorry. But you seemed to be hiding something from me, and the
texts were a shock. You haven’t flirted with me like that since long before the
baby.”

“I know.”
He runs his fingers down my cheek before gripping my hands tightly in his. I
love how big and strong his hands are. “When we were in Tahiti for the wedding,
you were so relaxed and fun, and I realized that I miss you too, babe. The sex
was great, and we laughed like we haven’t in a long time. It’s time to
reconnect. I want to start dating again.”

“Dating?”
I giggle.

“Well,
yeah. I want to do things with just the two of us. It doesn’t have to be all
the time, because Sophie is part of us, but we have a huge family who would
love nothing more than to keep her once in a while, so I say we take advantage
of it and spend some time together.”

And I
melt. This is exactly what we need, what I’ve been missing.

“We only
leave her with family,” I reply sternly.

“Of
course, I wouldn’t leave her with just anyone. But you know our parents would
love to spend extra time with her every few weeks or so.”

He’s
right, they would, but it’ll be hard to be away from her. Yet, mending the
connection between Isaac and me is imperative.

“You’re
right. How should we start?” I ask.

“Well,
right now…” he gives me that smile, the one he uses when he’s seducing me, and
damned if it doesn’t always work.

“Right
now?” I whisper.

He leans
in and lightly brushes his lips across mine, once, then again, nibbling lightly
at the edges of my lips.

“Right.”
Kiss. “Now.”

Oh,
hell yes.

He pulls
me to my feet and yanks my blue long-sleeved t-shirt over my head, then pulls
his own gray tee off and throws them aside. While I make quick work of my jeans
and underwear, he swipes his hands over the bed, sending bags and boxes to the
floor.

“I hope
there wasn’t anything fragile in there,” he remarks with a grin and I shake my
head, smiling back at him. His blue eyes light up at the sight of me naked, and
he pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me firmly
against him. “Did you eat lunch?”

Lunch?

“Uh,
yeah.”

“Good,
you’re going to need the energy.” He buries his face in my neck, nibbling and
sucking his way up to my ear and across my jawline. I reach for his jeans and
unfasten them, slide my hands between his boxer-briefs and skin, and push them
over his hips and down his legs, kissing his chest and sculpted abdomen.

His
erection is full and hard, and without touching it with my hands, I circle my
tongue around the tip. Isaac gasps, sucking air in through his teeth and I grin
as I stand back up.

“God, I
want you.” His eyes travel from my face down my body, over my breasts, my
stomach, legs and back up again and I return the favor, taking in his amazing
body. Working construction for almost fifteen years has kept him in fantastic
shape, his muscles tight and firm. His skin is still bronze from our trip to
Tahiti. He’s clean shaven, but he needs a haircut. His dark blonde hair is
wavy, and unruly from running his fingers through it. Mine are itching to get
into it too.

But it’s
his Montgomery blue eyes that have always captivated me, that prompted my
nickname
Eyes
for him, a variation of his name, and those incredibly
blue eyes. They’re smiling at me now, hot and full of promise and lust and if
my panties were still on they’d be soaked.

He takes
my hand and pulls me flush against him, links our fingers and rests our hands
at the small of my back. I trace his chin with my nose, and push the fingers of
my free hand through his soft hair.

“Stace,”
he whispers. I gaze into his eyes as he gently kisses my lips.

“Yeah?”

“If you
ever even think about me fucking around on you again,” he mutters, deceptively
softly, against my lips, “I will spank the living shit out of you.”

My eyes go
wide and I gape at him. Holy shit, this is new.

“Okay.”
How
the hell do I respond to that?

“I’m not
kidding.” He pulls his fingers down my face, down my neck and cups my breast in
his palm, worrying the tight nipple in his fingers. My head falls back and I
bite my lip. “I haven’t looked at another woman in ten years.” His lips skim
down my neck, and finally he cups my ass in his hands and lifts me, pivots, and
lays me back on the bed. He crawls over me and rests his hard cock against my
pussy while his mouth does incredibly naughty things to mine.

His tongue
is strong and sure, insistent, dancing against my own. His elbows are planted
on the bed at either side of my head and his fingers are buried in my hair. I
run my hands down his smooth back to his ass and back up again. I love the feel
of him. It never gets old.

I roll my
hips, and gasp as the tip of his cock brushes against my clit.

“Ah, baby,
you’re so wet,” he murmurs against my mouth and pulls back to rest his swollen
head against my labia. I press my feet against his ass, urging him inside.

“I want
you.”

With a
growl he pushes inside me, burying himself to the root, and rests his forehead against
mine. I gasp at the intrusion, my body still unused to making love after giving
birth to our daughter, but he stills and lets me acclimate to him and the tiny
pain subsides.

“You feel
so good.”

“I’ve been
doing my kegels.”

“Gazoontite.”

I burst
out laughing, tightening around him, making him moan. “It means I’m exercising
the muscles down there to tighten them back up from the pregnancy.”

“I know, I
just love it when you laugh when I’m inside you.”

I grin up
at him and take his face in my palms. “I love you, Eyes.”

He crushes
his mouth to mine and moves faster, harder, grinding his pelvis against my clit
with every stroke in and I feel the building inside me begin, my muscles
tighten, my thighs clench. I grip his hair in my fingers and throw my head back
as I come around him, surprised at how strong my orgasm is, and so happy that
my body is starting to feel back to normal again.

“That’s
right, baby, I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“Shit!” I
wrap my legs more tightly around his hips as I spasm around him, and I feel his
own orgasm work its way through him. He thrusts once, then again and grinds
into me forcefully, spilling himself inside me.

He
collapses over me with a big sigh, rests his cheek on my shoulder and murmurs,
“Only you, babe.”

***

I wake
alone, disoriented. There’s a full moon shining brightly, illuminating the
room. The bed is cold where Isaac was asleep a few hours ago and the house
feels still.

I rise
from the bed, stretching my arms over my head, feeling the pull of muscles well
used this afternoon from our unexpected and hot lovemaking. I grin and push my
hair back from my face. Perhaps we need an encore.

I wonder
where he is.

I pad
quietly down the dark hallway, expecting to go downstairs and find him in the
kitchen, but as I pass Sophie’s room, I hear Isaac’s voice, speaking in hushed
tones. The dim light on the dresser is on, sending a shadow across the hallway
floor. I peek in, to see Isaac rocking gently in the lovely, plush sage-colored
rocking chair he got me when I was pregnant. Sophie is resting in the crook of
his elbow, suckling a bottle, her big blue eyes watching her daddy’s face.

God, I
love them.

Isaac
brushes his hand gently over her little head and smiles down at his daughter.

“You’re as
pretty as your mommy, you know. I hope you get her hair. I love the color of
her hair.” He’s whispering down at her, like they’re having a deep
conversation, and Soph’s eyes are pinned to his, listening while she eats.

“You have
her temper too, don’t you?” I grin to myself and lean my forehead against the
door frame, listening out of sight. “That’s okay, it just means that you know
what you want. You’ll give some poor bastard a run for his money. But not until
your forty.”

Sophie
sighs. “Okay, burp time, baby girl.” I hear rustling as he settles her on his
shoulder to pat her back. “What should we get mommy for Christmas?”

As much as
I really, really want to stand and eaves drop, I decide I’ve heard enough and
walk into the room. God, she looks so small against his wide shoulder and with
his big hand on her back. He glances up and grins at me.

“Did I
wake you?”

“No, I
woke and you were gone, so I thought I’d come find you.” I kiss Sophie’s soft
head and inhale her baby smell and then lean over and kiss my sweet husband’s
lips.

“Her highness
was hungry.”

“So I
see,” I reply with a chuckle. “You’re so good with her.”

“I hope
so, she’s stuck with me.”

“Yeah,
that’s not such a bad deal.” Sophie has fallen back to sleep. “Let’s put her
back down and go back to bed, Eyes.”

He smiles.
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

Chapter
Four

“Why in
the name of all that’s holy is it always so much colder at Christmas tree farms
than it is anywhere else? Do they secretly have A/C piped in vents under the
trees or something? Because I swear to God, it was not this cold at home.” I
shift side to side, trying to keep warm and lift the blanket I have covering
Sophie to check on her. She’s snuggled in her sling across my chest, warm as
can be, sleeping soundly.

At least
one of us is warm.

“I know
how to warm you up, baby.” Isaac winks at me and flashes a wolfish grin and I
can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, I’m
aware, but I’m not taking my clothes off out here, buddy. So which one do we
want?”

We are
wandering around a tree farm, Isaac with axe in-hand, trying to find our
Christmas tree. I’m not exactly sure why we’re getting a real tree, especially
one we have to cut down ourselves, when I have a perfectly good fake tree in a
box at home.

Isaac
thinks that Sophie needs a real tree for her first Christmas.

“You know,
Sophie isn’t going to remember this tree, Isaac. The fake tree would be fine.”

He turns
to glare at me. “I’ve let you put that ugly ass fake tree up for the past eight
years. We are getting a real tree this year.”

“What if
we get it home and it has spiders in it? Or a squirrel?” I bite my lower lip, trying
to keep my smile at bay.

I love
irritating him.

“This is
not
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
.”

“Oh, I’m
so relieved.”

“You’re a
smart ass today,” he mutters as he continues to peruse through the trees.

“I’m cold.
If I keep talking my lips won’t freeze shut.”

Suddenly,
Isaac’s gloved hand grips the back of my head and pulls me to him. His lips
claim mine, and he kisses me long and slow, his tongue tracing my lips and then
tangling with my own. He nibbles the side of my mouth, rubs his cold nose
against mine and sinks into me again, his lips soft and lazy. Finally he pulls
back, his blue eyes shining, and exhales.

“Lips
warmer?”

“Yes,
thanks.” I’m struck speechless. Wow.

“Good.
Let’s find Sophie’s tree.”

“This is a
nice one,” he points to a large, full, tall evergreen.

“It’s way
too tall.”

He eyes me
speculatively, like I’m deliberately raining on his parade and I giggle as he
reaches for his tape measure.

“Damn it,”
he mutters and looks to the next tree.

Finally,
we find the perfect tree and Isaac quickly chops it down, yelling “Timber!” as
it falls to the ground.

“You’ve
always wanted to do that, haven’t you?” I ask.

He laughs.
“Yeah.”

He grips
the freshly cut trunk and lifts it, ready to pull it behind him as we make our
way back to the truck. On the way out, we stop by the farm store and buy some
fresh garland, a wreath for the front door and poinsettias.

Isaac
grabs some mistletoe and throws it on the pile and winks at me. “I love getting
you under the mistletoe, baby.”

“Yeah?”

He grins
again.

“You don’t
need mistletoe for that.”

“It
doesn’t hurt.”

Our house
is going to be very festive this year.

***

“So, where
are you?” I ask Brynna and glance around the pub from my corner table. Isaac
asked me to meet him here when he got off work for drinks, thus beginning our
new dating life, and I’m excited to see him.

“We’re
somewhere in nowhere North Dakota,” Brynna responds dryly.

“How has
the weather been?” I ask.

“Shitty.
That’s why we’re in nowhere North Dakota. We’re taking it slow. I’m in no huge
hurry, other than we’re running out of clean clothes and the kids are restless
so I can’t drive as many hours of the day as I’d like.”

“I’m
sorry, Bryn. What happened?”

“I’ll tell
you about it when I get there,” she responds with a sigh. “There are listening
ears in the backseat.”