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She rolled her eyes with a giggle. “Why am I not surprised?”
They ate the delicious meal Katelyn prepared, sitting on the floor. Brendan brought the tray of turkey pie and plates to the kitchen. She was staring at the bottle of champagne in her hand when he came back. A glass of whiskey, filled close to the brim, sat on the table. He hid a snicker behind his hand.
Trying to get me drunk?
Not tonight, baby.
“I can’t figure out how to open this.” Katelyn held out the bottle.
Legally, she wasn’t old enough to drink it, but fuck it. They were home where she was safe. What was the harm in it? If Katelyn wanted to celebrate their first tree together with some champagne, he wasn’t going to tell her no.
He took the bottle from her and popped the cork.
She held up two glasses and he poured.
They didn’t toast. Katelyn took her glass and walked over to the tree, sipping along the way. “This is good.” She took another. “Really good.”
Uh-oh.
He grinned with a shake of his head.
“So, shall we get started?” Her hand rested on top of the box, fingers smoothing over the cracked tape.
A warm feeling of nostalgia came over him. He was filled with a sense of how right all of this was. With Katelyn.
It was time to let the suffering go.
“Yeah.”
She opened the box, and one by one, Katelyn gingerly took out the ornaments he hadn’t seen in fourteen Christmases. Every year his mom would take him to Aggie’s shop on Maple Street to choose a special ornament to add to the tree. Blue baby booties from the year he was born. A wedding bell. He held an Irish Santa made of glass in his palm.
“Now we can add our faerie.” He nodded. “Go on. Find a good spot and hang him up.”
Brendan took a step back and watched her. Katelyn carefully placed the ornament on a branch in the front and when she turned around her smile was so big and so bright—like he’d given her the world. He was giving her his. He only hoped it was enough.
Katelyn leapt, actually leapt, into his arms, almost bowling him over. She held onto him tightly, her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, like a monkey clinging to a tree. He liked the way it felt. Like she needed him. Like she couldn’t get close enough. She pulled her head back and gazed into his eyes.
“It’s the most beautiful tree ever!”
She kissed him.
And she didn’t stop.
Her nipples rubbed against his chest through her tiny top and his Henley. Brendan could feel them just as surely as if the hard points were grazing his bare skin. Katelyn was making those sounds that made his dick hard—like she couldn’t get quite enough air even though she was breathing.
His hands were clasped behind her back, holding her up on his waist. He let one slide down her ass. Felt the damp fabric between her legs. And that was it.
He laid her down inside the tent and pulled the plaid fabric down her legs. She wore no panties underneath. Brendan fixed his gaze on her pretty pussy, bare and ready to welcome his fingers, his tongue, and his cock. He peeled off his Henley and popped the button on his jeans. His eyes never leaving hers.
She knew. The look in her eyes, the flare of her pupils, told Brendan that Katelyn knew exactly what his intentions were. More than that, she wanted what he did. He lowered his zipper and shucked off the denim. Naked, he knelt beside her under a ceiling of white cotton sheets and Christmas lights.
“Take it off,” he rasped.
Katelyn yanked the little white top over her head. Brendan studied her naked form. Memorizing every freckle, dip, and curve of her body. He held her foot between his palms, slowly rubbing it, pressing his fingers into the sole.
“There isn’t a part of your body I won’t kiss…” He sucked her toe into his mouth. “…or love or touch.”
His hand skimmed up her calf and her inner thigh until his fingers came to her pussy. Katelyn parted her thighs for him. She was wet and he could smell how much she wanted him. Brendan pushed two fingers inside her and she spread her thighs wide, gripping them in her hands to hold herself open.
