6 Mountain Brothers for Christmas

His lips traveled down my breasts, bypassing my nipples that were angry and screaming for attention. His hands parted my legs, and I felt my juices dripping out onto the bed.

He kissed the insides of my legs, sniffing my scent deeply before his tongue slid up my slit. My hands wound into the sheets underneath my body, and my heels dug into Chance’s back while his tongue worked my clit.

I could feel my toes curling even before he picked up his pace. And the most erotic part of the experience was my acute awareness of the other brothers in the room – patiently waiting.

Had someone told me I’d be in this position (pun intended) one month ago, I would have laughed in disbelief.

Yet, in this very moment I knew one thing for certain: I was the luckiest girl in this enchanted mountain town.

***

It felt so good to be home.

“Kyra!”

I looked up and saw my father, with his broad chest and his long beard. I rushed toward him, throwing my arms out and wrapping myself around his body. I didn’t get home as much as I had while I was in college, and the smell of firewood and forest permeated his clothing as I clung tightly to him.

His grip instantly tightened on me, sensing that something was wrong as he set me down onto my feet.

His eyes fell to my left hand, now bare compared to the last time he saw it. He flicked his gaze up to my face, his dark brown eyes studying me closely. That was the thing about my father. He never had to say a word in order to make you feel both loved and petrified at the same time.

I pitied Landon if my father ever saw him again.

“Good riddance,” my father said before he took my bag, and we made our way towards his truck.

The car ride brought back so many blissful memories. The mountains rose to their precipices in the distance. Their snow-capped tops blended into the crisp, white clouds that hunkered down over their tops. The winding roads became steeper and heftier, and I could hear my father’s truck working just to get up and down the inclines.

The trees were lined with snow and ice, twinkling with radiance in their new outfits, while winter blues and Christmas whites permeated my vision. My small hometown was draped in its winter wonderland costume, and all I could think about was cozying up next to a warm fire by the window and watching the snow fall along the tree line on the horizon.

“You remember that time your mother tried to surprise you, that year she had to travel?” my father asked.

“The year she left for that convention or whatever she was doing?”

“Yeah. Remember how she tried to climb through your window and ended up breaking her leg?”

“My gosh, I do remember that. She broke her leg and got pneumonia from falling face-first in the snow.”

“That woman was wild,” he said.

“Remember the year Mom tried to make all of our Christmas treats instead of buying them like she always did?”

“That was the year she charred half the kitchen. We had to remodel that year. I told her it was her Christmas gift. You wanna know what my favorite Christmas memory of her is, though?”

“What’s that, Dad?”

“Remember that year you introduced us to your first boyfriend? What was his name… Dan?”

“Jacob?” I asked.

“Whatever. I didn’t have to say one damn word to that boy. Your mother ended up reading him his rights on how we expected him to treat you, and he shivered in his boots whenever she came around. And if she was still here, that Larry fella would be doing the same.”

“You mean Landon?” I asked.

“Whatever.”

“It doesn’t really matter now. I think it’s over for good between the two of us.”

“How so?” he asked.