Mistletoe

It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m snowed in. I glance over my steaming mug at him, curled up next to me on the couch, enjoying the hot chocolate I made for us. Well, we’re snowed in.

He’s looking very cozy in that ridiculous, yet wholesome Christmas sweater. I can’t say mine is much to brag about, with its white reindeer and stars stitched across lumpy wool that I fished out of the attic. It’s not my best look - but it’s festive. All the other guests have gone home for the holidays and it’s just the two of us here at my parents’ bed and breakfast. I would be spending the evening with my parents a half-mile up the road, but this blizzard seems to have had other plans. His flight home, like the rest, has been canceled. I can’t say I’m particularly happy about this little arrangement, but I’ve got no choice in the matter. He and I are stuck together.

I watch the blustering outside through the window, listening to fine flakes rattle against the windows. The wind howls and whines against the glass.

“This is really good, by the way.”

I don’t notice it’s the second time he’s saying this to catch my attention.

“Sorry?”

“The drink. It’s delicious.”

He takes a sip, but his eyes don’t leave mine. My cheeks flush. It’s not the first time he’s looked at me like that. He’s a regular guest here at my family’s bed and breakfast. And he’s always been...mischievous. Flirty. A pain in my ass.

It’s like he’s always smirking at me, always thinking something naughty behind his pleasantries when he asks me for more towels or for extra sugar with his coffee. Fuck me, that look...the one that makes me wet and annoys me at the same time. We’ve flirted a lot throughout the three or four times he’s stayed here. I think we both know there’s a connection between us. A sort of…love/hate connection.

He knows exactly what he’s doing with that look. He enjoys my blushing. And I guess I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy his attention.

“Sorry – I must be terrible company right now. I’m sure you had other plans for tonight as well. ”

“Eh, to be honest, this is much better than what I had planned.”

He sets his drink down on the coffee table and pulls out a wrapped box nestled away in his pocket.

“I, uh, I was going to give this to you earlier, before my flight.”

“What? Oh my god, you got me a gift? That’s…so sweet of you. What’s the catch?”

I take the box from him, his fingers brushing against mine.

“No catch. And don’t expect this to be a recurring thing, okay? You and your family are always such great hosts. I just wanted to show some appreciation. ”

I notice how he lazily drapes his arm around the back of the sofa. If I lean back just a touch, I could have his arm around me. A dainty, silver necklace sits inside. I stroke a finger over the fine chain links.

“Wow, this is so lovely.”

“Yeah, well...”

“Seriously, it's beautiful. Thank you.”

“Here. Um, do you want me to put it on you?”

I hold up my hair as he takes the necklace into his hands and unclasps the hook. I catch a whiff of his cedar-scented aftershave as his arms loop around my neck. Fuck, he smells good. His fingertips send sparks through my skin as he fiddles with the clasp.

“There. Looks good.”

For a few moments, we just stay like that. Our faces close, his body inches away from mine. I wonder if he’s feeling the same magnetic pull that I am. Oh, fuck it. I have to go for it.

I lean my head back slightly. My cheek grazes against his stubble and our foreheads touch. I catch his eyes for a single moment before our lips meet.

His arms slide around my waist, pulling me against him as we lean back into the couch. Damn, he tastes good. His tongue slips past my lips into my mouth. He nestles me in between his legs, my back against his chest. I reach around and cup his cheek as we kiss, my fingers stroking over his stubble, while his hands roam up to my breasts.

It’s like I always knew this was coming. Like he and I were just waiting for this moment to arrive. All the bickering and banter over the years to mask the sexual tension, the attraction, the need for each other...I gasp against his lips as his hands reach under my sweater to my bra and squeeze the lace covering my breasts.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yeah...”

Suddenly, he’s guiding me to stand. He stares up at me from the couch with a look of pure desire. I wonder how long he’s wanted to do this. His fingers hook under the waistband of my pants, including my underwear. He slowly slides them down. His hands curl around my ass as he draws me forward and pins my clit against his mouth.

I grab a fistful of his hair and squeeze as his tongue slides between my folds. Oh, fuck…

“Fuck, you taste good.”

My knees are starting to shake. Oh my god, he’s good with his tongue...I take his shoulders and playfully push him back onto the couch. He looks so surprised as I straddle him. I lift the ugly Christmas sweater over my head and toss it onto the ground.

“You sure you don’t want to keep it on? That Reindeer sweater is really doing something for me. ”

“Shut up.”

I kiss him before he can make any more dumb comments.

I slowly reach down into his pants and wrap my hand around his cock. Mm, he’s getting so hard...he feels thick, just like I always thought he would. He scrambles out of his jeans, pushing them down to his ankles and kicking them and his shoes to the floor.

“Fuck...”

He slides his arm around my waist, pinning me to him as I balance the tip of his cock at my entrance.

He grinds his hips up against mine. I look down, and the sight of his cock sliding inside me is so fucking hot...

“Yeah… oh, fuck yeah. Ride me, just like that…just like that, yeah. ”

I brace my hands on his chest and fuck myself hard against his cock. My eyes have been squeezed shut most of the time. When I open them, he’s staring up at me like…like he’s wanted me since the moment we met. He thrusts harder into me, both of us rolling our hips over and over again into each other.

“Fuck, yeah. Yeah...”

He reaches up and cups my cheek. His thumb slides into my mouth and I pucker my lips around it. I suck hard on his thumb and place my hand around his on the side of my face. I grab for his hand around my waist and draw it up to my breast. He yanks my bra down and pinches my nipple between his fingers.

“Are...are you going to cum? Fuck, I'm going to cum soon...”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm going to fucking cum. Just keep going, keep going...”

“That’s it, that’s it. Come on. Oh, fuck, ride my fucking cock, make me cum.”

He sits up and grabs me tight around the middle. My whole body is trembling. Fuck, fuck. He throws his head back as I bite hard into his neck...

“Play with my clit. Now, please...”

He collapses backwards and I go down onto the couch with him. I drag my fingers through his hair and slowly begin to disentangle myself. His gaze is almost… tender as he looks up at me. I can’t believe this is the same guy who antagonizes me over buying artificial sweetener instead of sugar.

“Looks like the weather has calmed down a little...”

“Mmm, yeah, looks like.”

“You know, I really wasn’t expecting this…”

“No? I’m not surprised at all. I always knew I’d get you. Besides… ”

He points up and I look towards the ceiling. There, hanging down from the second-story rafters, is a long strand of mistletoe.

“You have to fuck under the mistletoe. That’s the rule, right?”

He flashes me that familiar smirk and I can’t roll my eyes hard enough.

“Merry Christmas.”