No Tomorrow

Page 80

He leans across the table with a handful of candy canes in his hand and kisses me.

“What are you daydreaming about, beautiful?”

I beam at him as I make a candy walkway leading to the door of our gingerbread house. “You.”

“Mom!” Lyric teases. “Daydream about Blue later. We’re right in the middle of our house.”

Blue and I laugh at her. She loves to tease us about our public displays of affection and she pretends they bother her, but we both know that she actually thinks we’re cute. She’s at the cusp of starting to notice boys, so she notices anything romantic and lovey. Blue has set the bar high for any guy she might date when she’s older. Every Friday he brings each of us a bouquet of flowers, and once a month he surprises us with a random, but extremely thoughtful and unique gift. Not only does he make quality time for me, but also for Lyric. He spends hours talking to her, writing poetry with her, and playing guitar with her while she plays the harp. He even makes sure to spend time with Archie and Mickey by brushing them and playing with them. At least once a week the three of us take Mickey for a walk together.

“How are we going to eat this?” Lyric asks, standing back to admire the half-finished, three-story structure. We’re also decorating the inside so it looks more like an edible doll house than a gingerbread house. “It’s just too cool to eat. I want to save it.”

“Nah. It’ll get gross. I promise we’ll make one every year, okay?” Blue says. “There’re tons of different ones we can make.”

Excitement gleans in her eyes. We’ve never had a true Christmas tradition. I think Blue’s idea is perfect and something Lyric can enjoy with us as she gets older. Maybe even share with a younger sibling someday.

“This is the best Christmas of my life,” Blue murmurs into my neck.

“Mine too.” I turn my head and meet his lips for a soft, lingering kiss. It’s after midnight on Christmas Day and we’re snuggling on the couch at my house under a thick fleece blanket with a goofy reindeer picture on it. This is the first Christmas we’ve ever spent together and it’s been wonderful.

This morning we opened presents with Lyric, then Blue made us pancakes and waffles for breakfast, including a bone-shaped pancake for Mickey. Ditra and Billy joined us later to exchange gifts, and then we went to my parents’ house for dinner, at my mother’s insistence.

My mother has met Blue once before and admitted she liked him and thought he was beautiful and charming. Her words. I wasn’t thrilled with subjecting Blue to my father’s long-standing attitude on our first Christmas together, but Blue assured me he could handle my father acting like a jerk. Thankfully, my sisters and their husbands were super friendly over dinner. They fanned a little over Blue, which made me laugh, especially seeing my father’s facial expressions when it dawned on him that Blue actually is famous. My father didn’t talk much, but at least he wasn’t rude, so all in all it was a nice dinner.

Now we’re on the couch with the lights off, enjoying the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree in the corner and the fire flowing from the electric fireplace Blue installed last week. Blue gave me a special gift when we got home—a diamond tennis bracelet with a tiny red garnet ladybug charm. I told him I’m never going to take either of them—this one or the original he gave me years ago—off.

“This is what I’ve always wanted with you,” he whispers, moving the scoop neck of my sweater off my shoulder and planting kisses on the exposed skin. “Memories that don’t hurt.”

“I have lots of memories of you that don’t hurt.” I thread my fingers through his soft hair. “And we’re going to make lots more.”

“Can we start right now?”

He lifts me in his arms, carries me across the room, and gently sets me on the floor in front of the fireplace. I love the way he smiles when I pull him on top of me, and the way the fireplace makes him look like he’s radiating a halo.

He tugs off my sweater and reaches down to unbutton my jeans.

“What about Lyric?” I whisper. She’s been in bed for hours, but we never fool around right in the middle of the house.

He touches his fingertips to my lips. “Shh…she won’t wake up. We’ll be quiet.” With a crazy-sexy grin, he pulls my jeans and panties off. “At least I’ll be quiet because my mouth is gonna be busy….” Kneeling between my legs, he slowly slides his hand from my breast all the way down over my hip to my outer thigh. He kneads his fingers there and then bends my leg up. “Not sure if you can be quiet, Ladybug.” He kisses my inner thigh and sucks my flesh into his mouth. Teeth and metal send tingles through my limbs. “Especially with me licking your pussy.” He drags his tongue over my lips and I let out a little moan and dig my fingernails into his shoulders.

“You gotta try harder than that, baby.” His husky voice drips with raw sensuality and he descends on me, covering me with his warm mouth and slowly probing me with his tongue. He flicks the ball of his piercing over my clit, then plunges his tongue in deep, sucking my sensitive flesh between his lips and teeth. I spread myself open for him when he inches his hand up my thigh and slips one, then two fingers inside me. He works me into a frenzy with his mouth and hands and I writhe and wiggle beneath him, thrusting my hips toward his face. He tortures me—slowing and pulling back just when I’m almost over the edge, then mouth-fucking me back to that breathless, urgent place again. He drives me wild, tantalizing me with his tongue and hands, his hard body pressing against mine. I tangle my fingers in his long hair, imprisoning him so he can’t pull away. When he finally lets me come, I can’t stop from crying out with pleasure. He moves like lightning, capturing my mouth with his, kissing me so deeply that I can’t breathe as he pistons his fingers in me. I’m a quivering, powerless ragdoll beneath him as he coaxes my body into another orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful when you lose control,” he whispers against my lips as I struggle to catch my breath. “And you can’t be quiet for nothin’.”

I giggle and snuggle into his arms. “It’s impossible with you. You drive me wild.”

He pulls the blanket from the couch and over our bodies, then leans up on his elbow to look at me. His hair is disheveled around his face. His eyes dark and intense, his lips full and cherry red from being ridden.

And that smile on his face is the best gift I could ever receive.

I remember our first Christmas together. How he decorated the shed with a tiny tree. I remember how badly I wanted him to climb over the wall he always kept between us and come home with me for the holiday.

Now there are no walls, he’s home with me, and nothing could be more perfect.

“I don’t want to ever stop having nights like this.” He pulls me closer and wraps his leg over mine, locking us together. “You’re the one high I’m never gonna quit, Piper. I don’t care if we have five kids or we’re married for twenty years, I’m always going to want to get lost in you.”

“You can always get lost in me.” I kiss the middle of his chest. “I promise.”

As we lie in front of the flickering electric flames, I play with his hair—something he loves—and the words to his song, “Lost in You,” echoes through my mind:

Take my hand baby and don’t let go

Anchor me here with your heart and thighs

I’ll swallow you down; intoxicate my dark soul

Whisper my name, darlin’, infect me with your sighs

Please…drown out all the shit I’ve been told

Keep me high, baby, and I’ll never have to fly.

Chapter Fifty

“I like this one. It’s heavy.” He holds his left hand out, fingers outstretched, and stares intently at the band on his ring finger. A shy grin spreads over his lips and he looks at me. “Do you like this one?”

I’d be happy with a string on his finger.

“I love it.”

The saleswoman beams. “That one is platinum, and symbolizes pure and everlasting love. It’s very durable, but can show some scratches and may patina eventually.”

“I can dig that. I don’t want it to look perfect and shiny forever. I kinda come with some scratches and dents. Right, babe?” He nudges his shoulder playfully into mine.

“I love your dents and scratches.”

“I’ll take this one,” Blue says, taking the band off and handing it to the saleswoman.

“It’s a wonderful choice, Mr. Von Bleu. And we’re honored to have you as a client.”

He thanks her and turns to me with a worried expression. “I think we should get Lyric a ring, too,” he says softly. “So she feels like we’re all in this kinda together. I don’t want her to feel left out. What do you think?”

There is no way to describe the intense feeling of love that slams into me when Blue does amazingly sweet and romantic things like this. He’s always so unsure and shy when he has these ideas, and that just makes them all the more special. I struggle to hold back tears and not smother him with kisses in the middle of the jewelry store.

“I think that’s the sweetest idea ever. I know she’ll love it.”

Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.