Dad Bod Under the Mistletoe (Dad Bod Christmas #2)

BONUS EPILOGUE

Two Years Later

Cassie

WINTERVALE, MONTANA — New Year’s Eve

“OH MY GOD. ISN’T this so cute? I need to add this to my collection.” I launch myself toward a tent in the Winter Market sporting the cutest handcrafted ornaments. I pick out a glass ornament showcasing a gingerbread cookie couple holding hands. “This needs to go on our tree for next year.”

Mack laughs, coming up behind me to encircle me in his arms. His lips brush against my cheek and all at once, I’m enveloped by his love.

“Wife, you can have anything you want.”

Wife. The title is still so new, it sends ripples of pleasure through me every time I hear it. Even now, beneath the layers of weatherproof jackets, cozy knitwear, and thermal shirts, the sound of his gruff voice calling me wife in that proud, possessive manner of his makes desire curls inside me.

It was only a week ago that we’d said our ‘I dos’ in front of a small group of friends and family in a private ceremony held in our own back garden. The winter and holiday themed gathering was done in our typical over-the-top crazy Christmas fashion with everyone turning up in their fanciest winter gala attire as I walked down the fake-snow dusted aisle to the strains of Tchaikovsky’s Pas de Deux to the most handsome groom.

We both had tears shining in our eyes when I slipped my hand into his and promised each other forever.

“Yeah?” I turn and link my hands behind his neck. “What if what I want is you?”

He drops a kiss on my nose, his smile growing wide. “You already have me.”

“Yes, but I meant, have you in the carnal, Biblical sense.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him suggestively while his lips twitch.

“You can have me any time you want, princess. But seeing as we’re in public and it’s freezing, maybe we keep our clothes on until we’re back in the cabin.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Mack?” I tease, turning to pay for the ornament while his gloved hand taps against my ass.

A shiver of anticipation works its way down my spine as I beam at him.

“Just you wait, princess. I promise you’ll have your fun.” Mack smiles and walks alongside me, taking in the expansive views and the clear, cloudless blue sky. “It’s really different being here in the winter. I’m so used to seeing the place in the summer, when all the adventurers are hiking the trails or swimming in the lake.”

“I know, but gosh, isn’t it beautiful here?” I spread my arms to indicate the expense of snow-capped mountains and the log-style storefronts. “There’s such charm. You don’t get this in California.”

“You sure don’t,” quips the smiling, short Asian woman behind the coffee stand. She wears a nametag identifying her as MELISSA the Barista, and a warm, welcoming smile brightens her round face. Above her is a banner proclaiming that the Brewbirds Coffeehouse has the best beans in town. “Can I interest you in any of our specialty coffees, or maybe some of our spiced or herbal teas? You won’t be sorry.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I crane my neck to read over the seasonal offerings. “A sugar cookie latte, please.”

She looks over at Mack expectedly.

“I’ll have a toasted hazelnut mocha.”

“You got it,” she quips. “So, California. You’re a long way from home. Moving over to escape those sky-high housing costs? It’s one reason I moved out of Colorado myself, but I was just trading one mountain town for another.”

Mack slides his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “No, just honeymooning for the week. We met here—well, just over in the next town, really—some years ago, and it took a while to reconnect.”

“Yeah,” I add. “We thought we’d return to the place we’d met.”

“Congratulations. Ski trips or summer camps?” she asks, working the espresso machine with quick, deft fingers. “I used to come for those as a kid. The camping grounds here are unrivaled when you consider all the activities.”

I answer for us. “Hockey camp, actually.”

Melissa the Barista’s eyes dart up to quickly scan our faces, and she nearly fumbles the steamed milk while pouring into the to-go cup she’s holding.

“Ooh, careful. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, butterfingers sometimes.” She slides a protective heat sleeve on, then offers the cup to me. “Was it at the Ice Palace?”

“That’s the one.” I take the drink from her extended hand and feel its warmth seep into my hands through my gloves. “Do you skate?”

“Me? No.” She readies Mack’s drink and offers it up. “My cousin just got engaged to a guy who plays for the Frostwolves, and I’m… friends… with the guy that coaches there now.”

“Oh yeah?” Mack’s eyebrows lift and he smiles at her. “How do you know Ryan?”

“We went to college together,” Melissa answers, but I sense a shift in her manner. A reluctance to provide further information, so I nudge Mack to the edge of the tent to let the next customer step up.

“You remember Motormoto?” he asks.

I nod. “Ryan Yamamato, right?”

He’d been a speedy skater out on the ice, hence the nickname. But if I remember correctly, his stature was one reason the draft never quite went his way.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Melissa’s lips curve into a wistful smile.

“How much do we owe you?” I ask.

She waves me off. “Consider it a very small wedding gift. Best wishes to you both.”

“Thank you. You know, we’re planning to swing by a public skating session sometime this week. I don’t know if we’ll catch him, but if you see him, let him know Mack T and Cruzzy say hi.” Mack points to each of us in turn.

Melissa the Barista nods. “Sure thing. Hope you enjoy the rest of your honeymoon in Wintervale.”

I wave and tuck my hand into the crook of Mack’s elbow as we stroll on.

“Come on, then, lover. I was promised a starlight picnic and fun.” Slipping my gloved hand into Mack’s, we quickly gather up the rest of the supplies we need, then head back to our secluded, private lakeside cabin at the nearby Wilderwood: Starlight Springs campsite.

**lok**epub*

It’s late when we polish off the last of a late night picnic of artisan bread, cheese, fruit, and cured meats we picked up from the market, Mack and I stretch out under the expanse of the starlit sky across the large picnic table in front of our private cabin. We’ve layered it with sleeping bags and blankets for comfort, and I huddle in beside my husband, yanking more blankets over us just so we can watch the twinkle of lights above us.

Far above us, in the seclusion of the campground, the stars shine, brighter and further away than I can even imagine or remember, and my appreciation for the lengths this man has gone through to recreate our special place in our home blooms inside me.

“I love you, husband,” I say, loving that he now bears that title.

My fingers are cold as I slip them under his shirt and against his soft, warm stomach.

I can’t stifle my laugh when he jumps, shouting, “Cold hands!”

“I can’t help cuddling up to you. I’m cold, and you’re a living, breathing furnace.”

“So you’re saying you need me to warm you up?” The look he shoots me ignites a fire in my belly.

I bite my lip and nod, shifting with him as he positions himself over me. He wedges himself between my legs and uses his knees to nudge mine apart. A moan escapes my lips when I welcome his weight above me, wrapping my arms around him and letting him lay claim to my mouth, my body, my already conquered heart.

“Every night we laid together under this sky, I longed for you.” Mack’s kisses trail over my throat. His big hands find my shirt and rip it up along the seams.

I gasp, the shock of the motion and sudden exposure making my pussy pulse with need for him. I can’t look at my husband without wanting him, without needing him. When his fingers slip along my folds, I angle my hips, rubbing myself shameless over his thick fingers and slicking them with my want.

“Every time I saw a falling star, I wished for you,” I whisper, cupping his bearded cheeks and pulling him down to me for a kiss as his fingers dip into my heat, pumping into me in long, strong strokes designed to make me more wild, more needy.

“That’s it, princess. Show me how much you like my fingers inside you. Take what you’ve been wanting.”

“I want you.” My breath comes in short pants, my hips moving faster. “I only want you.”

“Where you do you want me, baby? Inside this tight, wet cunt?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. I want you in my mouth, in my pussy.”

“Fuck,” Mack kisses me hard as his thumb rubs hard little circles over my clit, his fingers sliding against my walls as I clench around him. Heat and cream flood my channel as I come undone under his clever fingers. “My filthy little princess can never get enough.”

“Of you? Never.” My hands reach for his belt, unfastening and unzipping in seconds. When he springs free, thick and hard and dripping with need, I lick my lips. He moves over me, kneeling above me and dangling his cock over my mouth. Hunger for him burns inside me and I wrap my hand around him, lifting him so I can trace the shape of his heavy balls with my tongue.

He groans. The sound of it rumbles through him, reverberating through his chest and joining in the chorus of the night.

Gently, I suck. Then I slide my tongue over his thick shaft, bathing his cock with my saliva until I can fit my mouth over his broad, swollen tip. Eyes locked on the way his body looms over me, I slide my hands lover his thighs and use it to leverage him into fucking my mouth.

“Shit. Fuck. Princess, that feels so good. You know just how I like it.” Mack stares down at me, his eyes as large and as luminous as the stars above us. Fire burns inside them, and it sets off an answering flame inside me as my pussy aches to be filled by him.

I moan as his hips move in short thrusts, sliding in and out of me in long, wet strokes. I dig my nails into his ass cheeks. Urging him to go deeper, go harder, but there’s nothing here for him to hold on to, and as his thighs shake and his breathing grows more labored, I’m so unbelievably turned on by how hot it makes my husband to see me sucking his dick. I reach between my legs, my fingers working my clit, coaxing more of my juices to coat me so I’m ready and waiting for him.

“I need you, princess. I need you like I need air in my lungs, like I need blood in my veins.” He withdraws from my mouth and shimmies down my body. Lowing his mouth to mine, he kisses me hard and fits his cock to my opening. My legs wrap around his waist, my body open and welcoming as he sinks into me.

“No one fills me like you, Mack,” I moan, arching against the solid, cushioned surface below me. I buck against him, his cock fitting me perfectly like a key into a lock. I meet his every thrust until I’m thrashing. My desperate whimpers become needy cries. “That’s it, Mack. Right there. Don’t stop.”

“Can’t stop, wife,” he growls and ruts into me with animalistic abandon. “Not until you come all over my cock and milk me dry.”

“Shit, Mack. I’m gonna… I’m…” and then I break. My pussy clenches over him as I cry out, the sound of it echoing into the night.

“Fuck, that’s good. That’s my good girl.” He interlaces his fingers with mine and fucks me through my shuddering release. My pleasure builds on itself, and I’m forced to ride another cresting orgasmic wave. Only then does he finally lets go with a roar.

His seed pours into me, cock pulsing as a jet of his cum shoots into me and I shake with the force of my pleasure. “Milk me, wife.”

And I do, taking every single drop as he rests above me, his harsh breaths billowing into the crook of my neck.

“I love you,” he mumbles. "Happy New Year."

“Happy New Year, love.” My hands roam over him as I gaze up into the night sky, thanking the stars for him. For his love. For my wish coming true.

“Look, look. There’s a shooting star,” I say, pointing to the star arcing across the sky.

He turns his head to see. “Oh, yeah. Let’s make a wish.”

“Already did.”

Then I kiss him as the star passes the twins in the sky, wishing with all my heart for the one thing we haven’t yet been blessed with: babies.