Under The Mistletoe: A Holiday Short Story Page 3

  She walks off and gets lost in the crowd, not giving me the opportunity to say I’m not here for Sydney. Why am I here? It certainly isn’t to “mingle.” I’ve never been the social type, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. I grab a beer, leaning on a door frame to take in the scene. It’s strange. I know everyone in this room, yet I don’t feel any kind of connection to any of them. They’re neighbors and acquaintances, but I can’t say I call any of them friends. Jesus, I’m pathetic.

  “Hi, Jake.”

  I know it’s her before I turn around. I’d know that velvet voice anywhere. Turning, my mouth falls open in awe. Sydney is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, even when she’s not trying. Her hair is loose, cascading down her back, the ends caressing the curves of her hips. Her sweater hangs off one shoulder, exposing the smooth skin. It’s begging for my lips.

  “You okay?”

  I clear my throat, gathering my wits. “Yeah. You look nice.”

  “Thank you.” She blushes, averting her eyes.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  “My house. I should be asking you that.”

  I raise my beer to show her it’s already taken care of.

  “Cool. Um….”

  “Jacob Maston.”

  Damn it. I close my eyes, willing the owner of the voice to go away. However, it doesn’t work. Hillary walks up, wrapping her arms around my neck. I reluctantly return the hug, breaking away as soon as I can without being awkward. We had a few dates, but she hasn’t seemed to grasp the fact that I don’t want anything serious.

  “Haven’t seen you in a while, mister. Where have you been hiding?”

  “Just working. You know Sydney, right?” I try to avert her attention.

  “Of course. You two were ahead of me in school, but I remember her. Hello.”

  I’m not totally clueless. I know that was an age reference. Sydney adopts that face many women seem to have mastered—the one where they’re trying to remain expressionless, but end up looking mean.

  “Hi.”

  “So, how long are you here for?” Hillary asks in a saccharine voice.

  “A few more days.”

  “Short trip, huh?” She gives a fake smile. For some reason, she feels threatened by Sydney. “But I guess you have to get back to your life. Are you here alone?”

  “Yes, I am,” Sydney replies in a controlled tone.

  “Shame. Too busy for trivial things like relationships, right?”

  Sydney’s eyes do this weird fast blinking thing, and then she raises her index finger. I think she’s about to go off on Hillary but instead, she says, “I’m going to get a drink.”

  Once we’re alone, I turn to Hillary. “That was totally uncalled for.”

  “Why? You don’t call me and I come here to find you chatting up your ex.”

  “What I do is none of your business. We’re not together.”

  “No, but you’ll come to your senses soon.”

  “I assure you, I’m in full possession of my faculties. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to say hello to our host.”

  I leave her without a backward glance, working my way through the room to get to the man standing next to the huge Christmas tree, dressed as Santa Claus. His wife is with him, and I can tell they’ve both indulged in the eggnog quite a bit.

  “Jake, my boy! Have some nog.”

  “Maybe later. Great party.”

  “My baby girl is home. That’s reason enough to celebrate.”

  “It sure is.”

  Sydney joins us, handing a cup to her father. She doesn’t see it, but I do—the mischievous glint in her mom’s eye. I watch her carefully, curious to see what she’s up to. I don’t know what I expected, but I certainly didn’t think it would be bumping Sydney with her hip. She cries out, hands flailing as she tries to regain her balance. Once again, I reach out, catching her before she falls. Mrs. George grins, her mission complete.

  Sneaky woman.

  “I’ve got you.”

  My hands are splayed on Jake’s chest, my body pressed against him. His arm is firmly wrapped around my waist. I keep my eyes closed for fear he’ll see what his proximity is doing to me. I’ve got you. He has no idea what those words are doing to me. I wish he had me.

  “This is becoming a pattern, Syd… you falling for me.”

  I finally open my eyes, staring up into his gorgeous face. The noise around us fades away. Everything else disappears, leaving us in a world where it’s just me and him.

  “Luckily, you always catch me.”

  His face inches closer to mine, hand fisting in the back of my sweater. “Always.”

  “Ooh, look who’s under the mistletoe!”

  I’m jolted back to reality by my mom’s words. Jake and I both look up, and sure enough, there it is hanging above our heads.

  “Well, what do you say?” Jake asks.

  Looking around the room, I find everyone’s eyes trained on us, including Jake’s blonde friend. With a nervous smile, I pull his head down to my level and kiss his cheek. The crowd makes their disappointment known, and so does Jake. He holds me tighter when I try to step back.

  “You call that a kiss?” he raises a brow.

  “Jake… please. Just let me go.”

  When he releases me, I hurry to my room, closing the door behind me. I can’t let him see how much he affects me. I can’t believe that after all this time, my attraction to him is still this strong. It hurt too much the first time I left. I can’t get pulled back into his orbit again. This time, I may not be able to find the strength to walk away.

  The door opens and in walks Jake. He closes it behind him, turning the lock.

  “What are you doing?” I demand.

  He presents some mistletoe he had hidden behind him, declaring, “You owe me a kiss, Miss George.”

  “Jake, please don’t do this.” I panic, retreating from him.

  He advances, his gaze traveling up and down my body, inducing a shiver. I gasp when my back hits the wall. Jake crowds me with his body, leaving me nowhere to run. My breathing gets ragged.

  “Jesus, Syd.” He tips my face up to his. “It’s still there.”

  “What?” I whisper, licking my dry lips.

  “We can say whatever we want with our mouths, but this? Our bodies will always tell the truth, Sydney. I’m not out of your system and you’re sure as hell not out of mine.”

  “Jake, we can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m leaving in three days.”

  “You were always leaving, Syd. Maybe that’s what made you so irresistible… thinking I could make you stay.”

  He swoops down, pressing his lips to mine. I give in instantly, my body recognizing his. My hands slide up his arms and around his neck as his settle around my waist. His tongue divides my lips and conquers my mouth, taking my tongue prisoner. Moaning, I lean closer, returning his kiss with equal enthusiasm. His hands roam my back, slide down to my hips, then under my sweater, fingertips grazing my skin. While one remains on the small of my back, the other snakes into my hair, giving it a gentle yank. His lips move to my neck and shoulder, kissing any exposed skin he can find.

  “I need you, Syd,” he growls, voice laced with agony.

  “Not here.” He pulls back, staring down at me. “Your place?”

  “Let’s go.”

  Grabbing my hand, he tugs me along behind him, heading for the front door. He retrieves his coat from the rack, reminding me I left mine in my bedroom.

  “My coat—”

  “Wear mine,” he cuts me off, impatiently helping me into it.

  I try to sneak out, but in his hurry, Jake attracts a few stares. There’s no time to be embarrassed because he has us in his truck and on the road in the blink of an eye.

  “A bit eager, are we?”

  “You have no idea, Sydney.”

  For a long while, I watch his hands move on the steering wheel, imagining them on my body. He’s in deep conce
ntration, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the road or me. Giggling, I slip out of his coat. I slide forward on the seat, removing my sweater.

  “Stop distracting me, woman.”

  “I don’t know if I can wait, Jake.”

  “We’re here,” he announces, turning into his driveway.

  The moment he parks, he hops out and rushes to my side. He throws the door open, lifting me out and throwing me over his shoulder.

  “Jake!”

  I laugh, forgetting about the cold and the fact that all I’m wearing are a bra and leggings. He stomps through the house and to his bedroom, tossing me on the bed. Leaning forward, he grasps both breasts, pushing them together and burying his face between them. His tongue flicks out, trailing a path up to my neck.

  “Jake….”

  He appears above me, breathing just as hard. His gaze wanders my face before meeting mine.

  “You were always mine, Sydney. This proves it.”

  He presses his lips to mine, hand sliding into my leggings and caressing me through my panties. He groans, pushing it aside to gain direct access.

  “Oh, God.” He moans, slipping a finger inside me.

  “Jake!”

  I bite my lip, working on the buttons of his shirt. Red plaid. I smile to myself, tugging it out of his jeans. He releases me, ridding himself of the shirt and the plain white one underneath. I feast my eyes on his body, muscular and defined from years of working in the lumberyard. When he kicks off his jeans, I move to his flat stomach, yearning for him to reveal what’s under his boxers. It’s like the first time I saw him naked. I’m having much of the same feelings—anticipation, fear, excitement. Time has been good to Jake Maston. It’s no wonder blondie tried to stake her claim.

  Jake’s fingers curl into the waistband of my leggings, dragging them off. He leans forward, dropping a kiss on my stomach. My muscles there lock up, thighs trembling as he moves lower. With each kiss, he tugs my panties down.

  “Still like this?” he asks, pressing his lips to my mound.

  “God, yes.”

  He chuckles, disposing of my panties to bury his face between my thighs. I cry out, fisting my hand in his hair. One thing’s for sure, Jake definitely knows how to use his tongue. He’s only gotten better with time. I writhe beneath him, my free hand curling into the blanket covering the bed.

  “Yes….”

  I throw my head back, spreading my legs to give him more room. He finds the perfect spot, concentrating on it when my sounds can no longer be controlled. Involuntarily, I press down on his head, even as my hips rise off the bed. My body goes rigid, and then falls apart under his ministrations.

  “Jake!”

  He kisses his way up my shaking body, his wet lips leaving a trail of my juices in their wake.

  “I never could get enough of your taste, Syd.”

  He unclasps my bra, throwing it aside so he can pay equal attention to my breasts.

  “Please, Jake,” I beg. “Please….”

  The nightstand drawer rattles and I watch him rip the condom wrapper and slide it on. I lick my lips, remembering how much I liked his taste also.

  “Later, Syd.” He smirks, nudging my legs apart again.

  Our eyes meet, and when he slides inside me, I swear my life feels complete. I realize that no matter my achievements, it all means nothing without Jake.

  “Sydney….”

  He begins to move, burying his face in my neck. I breathe in his scent, reacquainting myself with it. I never forgot it. I could always describe the mixture of pine, musk, and just a bit of sawdust. It was only one of the things about Jake that stuck with me.

  I wrap my legs around his hips, nails scraping his back with each thrust. They say you never forget your first, and Jake was quite the standard to live up to. I’ve been with all kinds of men—older, younger, white and blue collar, even one who wanted me to call him “Master”—but none of them compared to him. I thought I was simply choosing men I wasn’t compatible with, but now I know that wasn’t it. He was right.

  I belong to him.

  The realization brings me to another climax. Clinging to Jake, I scream his name. He goes still, doing the same. Spent, he collapses on top of me, his breaths coming hard and fast.

  “Damn,” he mumbles.

  “‘Damn’ is right.” I giggle.

  He leaves me to dispose of the condom. I climb under the covers, feeling the chill of the night for the first time since we left my parents’ house. He returns, adjusting the thermostat before climbing in next to me and pulling me into his arms. Sighing in contentment, I lay my head on his chest.

  “Your hair is longer,” he says absentmindedly.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I love it. I can think of a few things that will be more interesting with it.” He chuckles.

  “I bet.”

  He goes quiet, fingers combing through my hair.

  “What are we going to do, Sydney?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s… let’s not talk about it tonight. Tonight, I just want to be with you.”

  “Okay, baby.”

  I close my eyes, snuggling closer. Tomorrow.

  I’ll deal with the real world tomorrow.

  “Mmm… this is delicious.”

  Drying my hands with a towel, I make my way to where Sydney’s sitting on the kitchen counter. She hasn’t left my bed the last two days, but I still haven’t had enough of her. What I have had enough of is living without her. I don’t care anymore about what happened or how much time has passed. All I want is Sydney Alexa George. I’m not losing her again.

  “I might have to start wearing flannel. I think it suits me.” She pops the collar of the shirt she’s wearing.

  “It does. Seeing you in my shirt is better than any lingerie you could wear.”

  Swiping half of a strawberry from her plate, I place it at her smiling lips. She takes it, pulling the tip of my finger into her mouth and moaning again.

  “Strawberry flavored Jake. I like.”

  I spread her legs and wedge myself between them, resisting the overwhelming urge to take her right here.

  “We need to talk, Syd.”

  Sighing, she loses the smile. “Not now, Jake.”

  “If not now, then when? You’re supposed to leave tomorrow.”

  “And you always knew that.”

  “Yes, but don’t tell me what we’ve shared the last couple of days doesn’t mean anything. I know you better. You know me better.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I’m not letting you walk away from me again, Sydney. We belong together.”

  “Jake…” She cradles my face, eyes softening as they meet mine. “How would that even work?”

  “You tell me.”

  She raises a hopeful brow. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to move to New York?”

  “You know I can’t do that.” I move her hands away from my face. “I can’t give up the lumberyard. You can find another job here, Syd.”

  “Yeah, but not like the one I have.” She pushes me away, hopping off the counter to pace the length of the kitchen.

  “Are you happy?”

  “I told you before, Jake. I love my job.” She avoids my question.

  “More than you love me?”

  She stops, spinning to face me, tears in her eyes.

  “Don’t do this. Please don’t make me choose again.”

  “It shouldn’t be hard, Sydney. It’s not. You either want to be with me or you don’t.”

  “It’s simple for you because you don’t have to give up anything!” she shouts. “You have no idea how hard I worked to get to where I am.”

  “If I let you leave, I’m giving you up. I’m not doing that again. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Hell, even Sue knew it. Give us a chance, Syd. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “You still love me?”

  I pull her into my arms, sliding my fingers into her hair and tipping her face
up to mine. “It took you showing up on my doorstep in a snowstorm for me to realize I never stopped.”

  “Me, too.” Her lips quiver, tears running down her cheeks. “I love you, Jake.”

  “Then stay.”

  She puts distance between us, staring at the floor as she says, “Please take me home.”

  And there it is. I’ve got my answer.

  “I’ll wait for you in the truck.”

  The ride to her place is quiet, save for the occasional sob or sniffle from her. I’m a fool to think I could have changed her mind. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. I drop her off, sticking around just long enough to see her inside. Back at my house, I’m assaulted by her scent in every single room. My bed looks big and lonely, but I climb in anyway, breathing her in from my pillow. No matter how much I love her, it’s time to let her go. It’s time to accept that the stars in her eyes will always blind her to what’s right in front of her: me.

  My phone’s ringtone jerks me awake. I don’t even know what time it is, but the sun shining in through the window tells me I overslept. Not that I slept much. I spent the night tossing and turning, thinking of Sydney. Grabbing the phone, I check the caller ID and see my assistant’s name on the screen.

  “Good morning, Julie,” I answer.

  “Good morning. Just checking on you.”

  “I overslept. I’ll be in soon.”

  “No problem. I’ll hold down the fort until you get here.”

  “Thanks, Julie.”

  I toss the phone aside, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. A glance in the mirror tells me I look as bad as I feel. We all know how the saying goes. I’m a damned fool for letting that woman stomp all over my heart not once, but twice. There won’t be a third time.

  While I’m making my coffee, there’s a knock at the door. I open it, and there stands Sydney, wringing her hands and giving me a nervous smile. What the hell is she doing here?

  “If you’ve come to say goodbye, don’t bother.”

  I try to close the door, but she stops it. “Please… just hear me out?”

  “I’m not interested in anything you have to say, Sydney. Just go on back to New York and your fancy job.”