Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

9. Lizzy

Four nights before Christmas

A slice of dim light cut down the stairs when Will opened the basement door. I knew it was him, like I knew the thrum of my pulse. My fingers tingled, remembering the strands of his hair between them, the press of his powerful body. I was foolish when it came to him—If we'd been caught making out behind coats…I wouldn’t survive the humiliation. I couldn't find it in me to care.

Not when leaving him had felt like deprivation.

My aching need grew with every detail I learned about him. He'd been so sweet in the car on the way to the stable, maneuvering the conversation to include me and Rose. Asking us questions about our favorite Christmas gifts, we had the same answer: a trip to Hawaii for our senior year spring break. We'd talked over each other, recalling hiking to waterfalls, and snorkeling, and laughing at our dad discovering he loved fresh ocean fish. Both of us doing our best impression of him repeating, "This is ridiculous."

Will's favorite gift was from his mom, his childhood dog, Scout. "She was a good dog," he'd said, his voice etched with reminiscence.

He had a comfort with vulnerability that most people struggled with—me included. But in the presence of his openness, I found my guard dropping—allowing the shattered pieces of my heart to fit back together.

And then the way he'd swooped in and handled Mitchell. Will's protective side was just as sexy as every other angle I'd seen of him.

"Hello," he whispered from the top of the stairs.

"Hi," I whispered back.

I barely heard him close the door over the softly playing music. His descent was near silent, each step punctuated my anticipation, amping up my excitement.

We were alone.

Finally.

Taking the last step, he planted his feet shoulder width apart. His white T-shirt was loose around his waist but fitted to his shoulders and pecs. His gray sweatpants sat low on his hips. He looked perfectly confident, except for his bare toes curling and uncurling on the carpet.

With the tilt of his head, he lifted the wine bottle I'd left upstairs. "Can I top you off?"

I resisted the corny urge to answer, Thought you'd never ask . Instead, I nodded and lifted my nearly empty glass.

"What are you doing down here in the dark?" he asked.

I jerked my head toward the laptop open on my lap. "Working."

Heat burned my cheeks as I realized that was what I intended, but I was actually scrolling through his Instagram. It'd lured me like a moth to the flame when I'd gone to the show's profile. The top post was the picture I'd taken earlier of him and Rose. In it he was looking at, or possibly just past, the camera with an intensity I recognized.

The top comment was from @iliketodoitmyself saying, If Bill looked at me the way he's looking at the camera I would combust.

Girl, same, I thought, but I didn't respond.

I sat my glass on the side table angling my computer away from Will. Judging by his lifted eyebrow, I didn't angle far enough.

"Is that me?" He leaned down, putting a hand on the back of the sofa, the knuckle of his thumb touching my shoulder. That one point of contact was enough for my heart rate to jump. My lungs wanted more air, but I was sure he'd notice if I started panting.

"It's pro bono work," I lied.

He lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

"Your social media presence is the bedrock of your advertisement efforts. Should you ever suffer from scandal or a change in algorithm, it'd be wise to establish a few other avenues to drive business."

He straightened and grinned down at me. "Nice save."

"Thank you." I closed the laptop and set it down on the coffee table.

"Have more thoughts?”

"Always.”

The sofa was old and beaten in, and I sank a bit in his direction when he lowered onto the opposite cushion. I propped my elbow to rest my chin. I was overly aware of the space he took up, the negative space that I could fit into. My sudden lack of confidence caught me off guard. Just a few hours ago, I'd been willing to risk it all for the quickest make-out session in a coat closet.

"Here." Will patted his thigh.

"You want me to sit on your lap?"

He cocked his head to the side as if to say, Kinda . But what he said was, "Prop your feet on me so you don't have to be all corkscrew."

My pulse lost a beat or two. A fresh surge of energy lit me up from the inside. I was going to get to geek out about one of my favorite things, while touching him without having to pretend it was an accident or hiding.

I rotated, setting my bare feet on his firm thigh. One of his big hands circled my ankle, and it took me a moment to recover.

"What were you saying about algorithms?" he asked, running his thumb from the top of my foot to the bottom of my calf.

I swallowed. "Um…A better place to start would be, how much of your finances are based on your flips and how much is based on your YouTube channel?"

A crease formed between his eyebrows. "It's still primarily flips. I'd say 75-25."

"Okay, so a significant amount from the show. One benefit of it is that it's evergreen material. Even if details of a video fall out of fashion, there's still helpful information there. And obviously its residual income. But you also sacrifice privacy."

His hold on me tightened, then relaxed. "Would that be a problem for you?"

"No, it's no problem to create an infrastructure for your business. We just have to be strategic."

He bit his lower lip, his teeth glinted in the lights of the mini Christmas tree in the corner. "I meant, would it be a problem for you ?"

"Oh." I pinched the hem of my sweatshirt between my fingers, folding it over and over. "It would…be challenging."

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"But um…" I began reminding myself how rewarding being bold had been. "I would be willing to try."

His eyes flicked to mine. It was too dark to make out their color, but there was no missing the heat in them. "You would?"

"This is," I searched my mind for the right word, "complicated."

He scoffed.

"But it's given me a chance to see you, the way you help my sister, how genuinely kind you are. I like you."

He tilted his face away from me, hiding his expression. "You deserve better than this."

A million partial thoughts flitted through my mind, but they all agreed with him. At the same moment, I didn't feel used, just dissatisfied.

I finally said, "It's temporary."

I glanced down at my fidgeting fingers. "It'd take some finessing. You and Rose would announce your break-up"—I put finger quotes around break-up—"You and I could date in secret for a few months. I wouldn't want to go public because it's just not me."

"So, you wouldn't openly date me?"

"That's not what I'm saying." I wrapped my hands around my thighs and pulled myself closer to him. "I wouldn't want to be on your show, or on any of your social media. We'd be public in our lives, but not on the internet."

"Given some thought?"

If you only knew how much I think about you…

"Some," I conceded. "Would that be enough for you?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation. There was something so earnestly sweet about it. I fell a little further for him.

I nodded.

His thumb went back to its up and down motion. I was robbed of my ability to think. There was still more to discuss. Long-distant relationships were hard, and I didn't know how it would work, but he had a way of keeping me in the present. At that moment, we had an opportunity I wanted to take advantage of.

"No one knows we're down here," I whispered.

He froze before his eyes drew searing lines up my legs and body. His eyes bore into mine.

"If anyone walked down the hallway," I continued, "we'd have enough warning."

He swallowed. His shoulders clenched. I wanted to run my hands over the bound muscles. To wrap my legs around him. To have his mouth on mine and not deprive myself.

It had only been a few days, but the memory of his body on mine, in mine, kept me awake at night with need. My pulse drummed a beat through my whole body.

His eyes flicked to the ceiling, then to me.

The graze of his fingertips up the thin layer of my leggings sent shivers down my spine.

He gripped the back of my knee. "We have to be quiet."

"I can be quiet," I promised.

The press of his lips on the inside of my knee burned through fabric. My back arched. My nails scraped against the sofa cushions. I gasped.

Already too sensitive to his touch. It would have been humiliating if I wasn't so incensed.

"Shhh." He breathed down my thigh.

He pushed my leg between his body and the backrest.

With every kiss he pressed to my stomach, my chest, my throat, bound my heart. Until he brushed his soft lips along my jaw.

I bit my lips between my teeth to keep from calling out.

Hooking my legs around his waist, I pulled his mouth to mine. The brush of his tongue pulled me from underwater. My lungs filled with air, my body desperate for the oxygen that only he could provide. The soothing clarity that he was just as needy for me. I couldn't explain how I knew. Whatever called from within me found its answer in him.

His fingers dug into my waist.

We both groaned as I rocked my hips. The pressure of his hard cock against my sensitive clit sent shivers down my spine.

A floorboard overhead creaked.

We stilled except for the rise and fall of our chests.

Will

Four nights before Christmas

Lizzy looked thoroughly kissed, with her hair wild around her shoulders from my grip buried in the strands. We were breathing like we'd done thirty minutes of cardio. If whoever was moving above us in the hallway came downstairs, they'd know what she and I were up to.

It'd help if I peeled myself off her. But she felt too good. Soft. Full.

Unconsciously, I rocked my hips from side-to-side. My throbbing cock pressed against her was torture and relief all at the same time.

I gritted my teeth, fighting back a groan.

A whine escaped from her.

I shushed, but it would have been more convincing if we weren't silently laughing.

She tickled my ear, whispering, "That was your fault."

"I know."

She lifted her hips, and my eyes closed from the bliss of her heat through the thin fabric of our pants. The only sound was the rustle of our clothes as we held our breaths. I pressed a kiss to the pulse in her throat. It thrummed quick and urgent.

Overhead, the creaking of footsteps retreated before going silent.

I supported my weight on my elbow to look down at her. Her features cast in a multicolored glow from the twinkle lights on the miniature Christmas tree at the other end of the room. She'd been adorned in shadows since the first night I'd met her. A gentle drape of light on her eyelashes and cheeks. Round brown eyes that saw every detail, assessing everything.

She took me in now, a quirk to her lips. "What are you thinking?"

"You can't tell?"

Shaking her head, a smile spread across her face. "How could I?"

"I just figured it was written all over my face."

"What?"

"I like you so much."

She hid her face, pressing it to my chest. "I like you too."

My heart was going to break free from my ribs. It pulled to hers. Lowering, I rested it against the swell of her breasts. It wasn't close enough.

She peered up at me, her eyes darting between mine. "I've never had sex in this house."

I lifted an eyebrow. "No time like the present."

Her head fell back, silent laughter shaking her body. I caught a groan in the back of my throat. Just looking at her—the exposed skin of her neck, her hair swaying toward the floor, the bounce of her tits—was enough to make my cock twitch.

I urged her mouth to mine.

Red wine clung to her lips. I was drunk on the taste of it, of her. Her tongue slipped along mine. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pressing us tighter together. Her legs hooked around my hips, and I ground my aching erection against her.

In the silence, I noticed every shiver that ran through her body. Her gasp as I trailed kisses and little bites down her throat. The arch of her back when I snaked my free hand up her sweatshirt, cupping her breast over her bra. Her nipple puckered in my palm. She overfilled my grip—the heavy flesh spilling between my fingers. She was more than I could hold. And I had big hands.

"I want you," I whispered into the hot skin just above her heart.

"Yes," she moaned.

Sighing, I wished I'd thought this through. Story of my goddamn life. "I don't have a condom."

"I might."

My head jerked up. "Down here?"

Her teeth pressed into her lower lip.

"In my laptop bag." It was hard to tell in the dark, but there might have been a blush coloring her cheeks. She lifted one shoulder. "Can never be too prepared."

A smile spread on my face. "Never change."

She snorted.

I shushed. I was tumbling into emotions too big to whisper, with nothing to break my fall.

I pushed back to kneel. Lizzy's legs held tight, pulling her with me. She looked so good there. Disheveled and lustful. Her thick thighs spread. I ran my hands up them, squeezing into their softness. My needs conflicting my actions. Untangling from her was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was the only way to reach for the bag leaning against the coffee table.

The bag rustled, the metal jingling, when I picked it up and put it within her reach. With silent, deliberate movements, she lowered to the carpeted floor. Bending over the bag, put her perfect ass up for my appreciation. I didn't even question running my palm from one round cheek across to the other. She arched into my touch.

I took hold of the spandex clinging to her waist. Tugging it down, I exposed inch after inch of her skin.

Flipping her hair, she directed, "Only take them off one leg. In case we have to get dressed fast."

I was no better than a deranged Neanderthal because I hadn't even considered a strategy for putting clothes back on. How could I when her ass was bare? The waistband of her leggings rolled to her mid-thigh.

She wasn't wearing any underwear.

I slipped my fingers between her thighs, and I slid my middle finger inside of her. Her ribs expanded. She'd stopped looking in pockets of the bag, instead she fucked back into my hand.

"Did you find that condom?" I placed the pad of my thumb at the entrance of her ass. Precum darkened my sweatpants.

"I can't—your hand—I can't," she whimpered.

Although I loved her speechless at my touch, I ached to feel her stretched around my cock.

I pulled my hand from her heat. The sofa creaked as I sat back. I ran my hand down my face, smelling her on my fingers. My groan came out as a sigh. Wanting her was past urgent—she'd been edging me for days.

Turning, she held up a square foil. "Got it!"

"I need you." I wondered if she understood all the ways those three words were true. Before her, I didn't know what I was missing. But I did now. "Come here."

She crawled the few feet to kneel between my knees. I lifted my hips for her to lower my pants below my erection. It sprung free before settling curved toward my stomach. She moistened her bottom lip, and my balls tightened.

I hooked a finger under her chin. My heart paused, then pounded as she lifted her face. She was so beautiful. Everything fell away except for her. The ridge of her upper lip, and her eyelashes lining the loveliest eyes I'd ever seen.

I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't string my thoughts together.

I swiped my thumb along her cheek. "Just come here."

She swallowed and stood. I placed kisses on her hips and thighs as I helped her free one of her legs. With both of her hands braced on my shoulders, I read her grip like Morse code. Each little flinch told me where to kiss her next. Her hold tightened as I trailed down the crease of her pelvis until I could part her lips with my tongue and taste her arousal.

I urged her closer, putting more pressure on her clit. She cut off the moan that slipped from her mouth. It was what we'd agreed, but I missed hearing her. Since we couldn't, I'd make do with all the other ways we communicated. Like the way she rocked her hips when I slid two fingers inside of her again.

She squeezed tighter and tighter.

Lost in the taste of her, the feel of her hot and wet, it took me a moment to hear her gasping my name.

"Not like this," she whispered when I leaned back. "I want you inside me."

I licked her from my lips and ran a hand through my hair. A fog coated the layers of my mind, making everything but her incoherent. She was my entire perception. My world began and ended with her.

She rolled the condom down my shaft, and I bit the inside of my cheeks from the pressure. Straddling my thighs, she placed my tip at her entrance, then lowered slowly surrounding me. Her head fell back when she'd seated me inside of her. Before she could lift, I put my arms around her hips and pressed her lower, filling her until I felt her limit.

Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

I buried my face in her hair. "Is that too deep?" I whispered, rough as gravel.

She shook her head. A quiet, shuttered, "No. It's good. Really good."

Around my cock, she grew tighter. Gripping her hips for dear life, I urged her to take slow, deep strokes. I held on to my control with everything I had. The clench of my teeth. The bunch of my shoulders. My tenuous grasp on reality.

She held her breath. Her pussy squeezed. Tears clung to her eyelashes.

Cupping the back of her neck, I pulled her forehead to mine.

We moved together, our eyes locked. Nothing but the pounding of our hearts and our bodies urging for more. For everything.

By some miracle, she came first. Her core flexed and spasmed around my cock, and she shivered. She closed her eyes, twin tears traveled down her cheeks.

I followed, biting down on her sweatshirt to keep from making any sound. A shiver ran up my spine. Behind my eyelids, I saw lights dance and my head went light and empty.

It took a few moments to catch my breath.

She turned my face to kiss me. A tender press of her lips to mine. There was nothing but her and me. We were everything. And it was enough.

I knew this moment couldn't last forever. But I wanted it to.