A Wright Christmas

Her fingers moved to my shirt, and she deftly unbuttoned it, pushing it over my shoulders. I let it fall to the ground as I reached for her, running my hands under her sweater to the lithe body beneath. She was perfection incarnate…and now, she was mine. She was really mine.

“I love you,” I said against her skin after tugging her sweater over her head.

“I love you, too,” she gasped.

My hands moved under her tank top, cupping her breasts and causing her nipples to peak.

“Isaac,” she breathed. “The…the door.”

Oh, right, we’d left it open. Fuck.

I gently shut it as she shimmied out of her tank and leggings. I shucked my own pants off to the side and then followed her to the bed. She tugged the covers down, and we fell into bed, kissing, touching, feeling. It was every sense all at once. So much at once. And I couldn’t get enough of her body.

The way she squirmed when I trailed her hip bone. Or the huff of breath as I kissed her stomach. The spread of her legs as my hips settled against hers.

I slipped two fingers between her lips, slicking through her wetness before pressing deep into her. She moaned softly, a sound that went straight to my dick. It strained against the fabric of my boxers as I dipped my head to lick at her clit.

“I want you,” she said, reaching for my shoulders to pull me.

She grabbed a condom out of the side table as I removed my boxers. She slid the condom on me. Our eyes met as I leaned over her, positioning myself at her opening.

“I’m glad you surprised me,” she whispered. “That you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

She drew my lips down to hers, and I slid forward into her. She groaned against my mouth but didn’t pull us apart. Our limbs were entangled and our souls connected. There was nothing between us now. Just this moment.

I picked up a rhythm as we let the last week wash off of us. Things weren’t going to be easy for the next six months. Finding our footing and learning to be together was going to be all new for both of us. But it was going to be worth it to have her back in my life. To have her home.

We came together with a passion. I had to stifle my roar of pleasure to keep from waking Aly up in the living room. But it was worth it, seeing Peyton’s flushed face and her beautiful sex-drunk gaze.

We both lay panting on her bed for a few minutes before I got up to clean up. Then I came back to the bed and pulled her into my arms. “You’re perfect.”

She huffed a soft laugh and threw her arm over my stomach. “How long are you staying?”

“As long as you want.”

“Forever?” she joked.

I kissed the top of her hair. “I have off until the fifth, but I never take vacation. So, I could probably ask off for the rest of the week.”

“I’d like that,” she breathed. “What are we going to do while you’re here?”

I tipped her chin up until she was looking at me and grinned licentiously. “A hell of a lot more of this.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”

“Also, probably bake cookies.”

She giggled. “The damn cookies.”

I brushed a lock of her hair out of her face and kissed her thoroughly. “We can do whatever you want to do. As long as I am yours and you are mine.”

She nodded. “Forever and always.”28PeytonThe next morning, we baked cookies, as promised.

“I think you have a little flour on your nose,” I said, bopping Aly on the nose.

She gasped. “You just put flour on my nose!”

She grabbed some flour off of the counter and flung it at me, coating my shirt.

“Oh my God!” I cried, flinging more flour in her direction.

Until there was more flour on ourselves and the counters and the floor than in the cookies.

Isaac came in, freshly showered, with wide eyes. “What is happening here?”

Aly froze with a giggle.

“Flour fight,” I offered, stepping toward him.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, using his dad voice as he backed up.

“What do you think, Aly? Does he look too clean?”

She grinned. “Definitely.”

And then we rushed him. He jumped and tried to evade us, but soon, we cornered him, and both of us dove into his arms, coating him in flour, too.

“You two are in so much trouble,” he said through his laughter.

Aly just giggled, and I pressed a kiss to his lips.

“This is all part of the cookie process.”

“Are there actually any cookies to eat?”

“Yes!” Aly said. “Come have one, Daddy!”

We headed back into the kitchen, which was covered in flour. I pulled out a pan of cookies and switched it out with a separate tray. Aly picked one up that was still piping hot, passing it back and forth between her hands to keep from burning herself.