Chapter Seventeen

Lexi

Something tickles my nose, pulling me from a deep sleep. I swipe it away, but it returns moments later. “Wake up, beautiful. Merry Christmas.”

Linkin.

My body starts to heat when I recall how easily he pushed me over the edge into multiple orgasms on multiple occasions. Just the thought of how easily he played my body, especially last night in the shower, has me on edge and probably embarrassingly wet.

“Stop smiling like that, Firecracker, or we’ll never make it out of this bed.”

Cracking open my eyes, I’m overcome with this weird giddiness that I’ve never experienced before. It’s part hope, part elation, part anticipation, all wrapped up in a naked package.

“I made pancakes,” he whispers conspiratorially with a wide grin and sparkle in his dark eyes. “And coffee.”

“Oh, coffee and carbs. You’re a wicked, wicked man,” I chide back.

“I am. It’s one of the many things you love about me,” he adds, pulling back the covers. “Get up and throw on a shirt before I say fuck breakfast and fuck Christmas and keep you tied to the bed all day.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I reply, standing up and stretching before taking the shirt directly off Linkin’s back. He helps, of course, lifting his arms so I can remove the fresh white t-shirt he must have retrieved from his apartment. “This one will do,” I say as I bring the material over my head, inhaling the manly, musky scent that is pure Linkin.

“That one’s mine,” he quips with a smirk.

“Was…” I say, singsong, letting the word trail off as I turn into his chest. “Merry Christmas,” I say softly, wrapping my arms around his naked chest.

“Merry Christmas,” he replies, kissing the top of my head as he holds me close.

“Okay,” I start, slowly pulling back. “It’s carbs and coffee time.”

“Are you sure? Because it kinda feels like I want to get you naked and do dirty things with my hard-on time,” he pleas, following me into the kitchen.

“Maybe if you’re a good boy and stuff me full of fluffy pancakes.” Reaching into the cabinet, I pull down two coffee cups.

“Oh, I’ll stuff you, all right,” he quips with a smile before filling our mugs, leaving room at the top for me to add my flavored creamer.

My ears start to burn, probably a rosy shade of pink like my cheeks. I’ve never blushed, yet ever since Linkin stripped his way into my life, I find myself turning into a pool of hormonal girly mush more often than not.

“Eat. If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you a present.”

“Present?” That perks me right up.

“Only if you’re good.”

“Oh, I’m definitely good,” I say, batting my eyelashes and piling big, fluffy pancakes onto my plate.

An hour later, we’re dressed and ready for lunch with his mom. Well, technically, Linkin was already ready since he slipped home and showered and changed while I was sleeping. He returned with a small red box with gold ribbon. It’s been sitting below the Charlie Brown Christmas tree, enticing me to open it.

And now it’s time.

“You first,” I say, handing Linkin the large flat box with his name on it.

Linkin rips the paper off like a kid. He uses his pocket knife to cut through the package tape, and slowly pulls the gift from the packaging.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” he says, his eyes twinkling like Christmas lights and wide with excitement.

“You like it?”

“Like? I fucking love it,” he replies, running two fingers over the painted canvas.

“I’m glad. I mean it was either the ’57 Chevy Bel-Air or the sunflower fields at sunset.”

“Well, as much as I like sunflowers and sunset, this car is a classic. It’s like the T-Bird or the Mustang. It’s an icon. Thank you,” he says, setting the painting that I found at a craft show aside, and kissing me square on the lips.

“I thought it was time to add something to your walls,” I quip, referring to the fact that his walls next door are still completely naked.

“Your turn,” he says, handing me the small box that I’ve had my eye on since I noticed it sitting beneath the tree.

I waste no time pulling the ribbon and paper off the box. It’s a white jewelry box, the name of the designer on the front unfamiliar. Gently, I open the lid, a soft gasp seeping from my open lips. “This is…stunning,” I choke, air not moving to my lungs the way it should.

He doesn’t speak, but instead, reaches for the box. Linkin pulls the necklace from within and grips the clasp. Moving my hair to the side, I turn until he’s at my back. The metal is cool as it hits my neck, the small pendant almost reaching my cleavage.

When he has it securely in place, I grab the pendant and take a closer look. It’s a pair of scissors with a diamond in the middle. It’s simple and stunning and so very…me. Tears cloud my eyes as I continue to stare down at my beautiful new necklace.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“I love it,” I confirm, moving to my knees in front of him and placing a kiss on his lips. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“I’m not so sure about that, but I’m glad you like it.”

“No, really,” I say, looking back down at the necklace. “Chris wasn’t really a fan of my career. In fact, he wouldn’t even acknowledge it as a career. He always referred to it as my hobby.”

“Mega douche,” he says, shaking his head.

“That he is. But it’s Christmas and I’m not going to give him even one more second of my thoughts today,” I say, smiling and holding onto the charm.

“I’ve got an idea,” he says, an ornery gleam shining in his chocolate eyes. “Why don’t I do the dishes real quick and you gather up your things. We’ll slip next door and you can help me hang that picture, probably in my bedroom. And since we’ll already be in there, you can show me those dark blue panties I caught a glimpse of while you were dressing earlier.”

“You were being a Peeping Tom?”

“Fuck yes, I was.”

Shaking my head, I stand up, offering him my hand to help him stand with me. “Deal,” I say, leading him towards the kitchen.

“Oh, and Linkin?” I ask, catching his attention. “They’re actually purple. And lace. And a thong.”

His groan is the last thing I hear as I slip back into the living room to gather up the final two presents for the day.

 

* * *

 

I follow Linkin up the front steps of a small white house, stepping over a big tank with what could possibly be millions of army guys scattered all over the porch. “Dammit,” he grumbles, sweeping his foot to the side to move the little army men from our path.

Before I can comment, the front door flies open. “Linkin!” one of the twins hollers before launching himself out the door and around his brother’s leg. He’s quickly followed by a second tornado, who mirrors his twin’s actions and wraps himself around Linkin’s other leg.

“Why are the army guys spread out all over the porch? Mom could have come out here and slipped and fell,” Linkin chastises softly.

“Sorry. We were at war but then the maiden made us come in and take showers. She said we smelled like death,” one of the twins says, I think Jack.

“Yeah, we smelled like death. Isn’t that cool?!” Jeff exclaims proudly.

“Not really. That’s an expression that means you smell horribly and need to find a bar of soap and water. Do you remember Lexi?” Linkin asks, walking like a robot through the front door with one boy attached to each leg.

“Of course, I do! Hello, beautiful,” Jack coos, waggling his eyebrows at me. I can’t help but laugh.

“Merry Christmas,” I say to no one in particular.

“Merry Christmas,” I hear in a woman’s voice as I enter the house. She enters the room, her steps faltering when she sees me. Her graying brown hair is pulled up in a messy bun and she looks a little tired. But her eyes sparkle like chocolate diamonds, just like her son’s. “Oh. Hi,” she says, stepping forward and offering me a genuine smile. “I wasn’t expecting a guest.”

“Yeah, sorry, Mom. This is my friend, Lexi,” Linkin says, trying to shake the boys off his legs. “Lexi, this is my mom, Karen.”

“So very nice to finally meet you, dear,” Karen says before wrapping her small arms around my back and squeezing. She’s surprisingly strong for such a little thing.

“Nice to meet you too,” I reply as she lets go and casually gives me a look over. “Sorry to crash your party,” I add.

“Nonsense. I’ve been dying to meet you ever since Linkin mentioned you.” Leaning in, she says, “It’s not every day that my son talks about a girl, let alone brings one home.”

“Mom,” he says, warning edging his voice.

“Anyway, I’m very happy you’re here. Come in and take your jacket off. I’m sorry the place is such a mess. The boys here seem to scatter toys mere seconds after they’re picked up and put away,” Karen says, shaking her head at the two boys who are now carrying plastic swords.

“Come play with us! You can be on my side, Link,” Jeff says, handing his older brother a sword.

“That means I get Lexi,” Jack chimes in, again, wiggling his eyebrows and making us all laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure I trust you with my girl, Jack. You’ll probably kill me and make off with my maiden,” Linkin says.

“It’s war, Linkin. Whatever happens, happens,” Jack says casually, shrugging his shoulder.

“Let me put all of our stuff down and you can try to kill me in a bit,” Linkin says, grabbing the two large presents that we brought in from the floor and taking them to the small Christmas tree.

“Can I help in the kitchen?” I ask Karen.

“Everything’s almost ready, but I’d love for you to join me,” she replies, smiling sweetly. My gut tells me I’m in for a bit of an inquisition about my relationship with her oldest son.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Linkin says, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek as he comes back into the room.

I can’t help but grin at the exchange. He clearly loves his mom and helps her out whenever needed. That thought alone warms my heart a bit. Beneath the rough and tough exterior, Linkin’s a good guy with a loving heart. He worships his brothers and his one parent who raised him, and if I’m being honest, I think you could add me to that category. I might not be ranked as highly as his family, but when we’re together, Linkin makes me feel like something special. Something treasured. Something real.

“What can I help with?” I ask Karen as I follow her into the tiny, yet tidy kitchen. It smells of warm bread and honey glazed ham.

“There’s nothing left to do but set the table,” she says, pulling the ham from the oven.

“Let me,” I say, taking the small stack of plates from the counter and placing them on the table. I notice right away that we’re one short, thanks to my surprise visit.

“The cabinet beside the fridge,” Karen says, as if reading my mind. I find mismatched plates, bowls, and plastic cups, and finish setting the table. We work in tandem to finish preparing the meal, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, it’s so easy, it’s as if we had been doing it for years.

“Be kind to him,” she finally says, standing beside me and transferring the ham from the roasting pan to the platter. “I’m not sure what all he’s told you, but he hasn’t had an easy life. He grew up way before he had to because it was just the two of us and he had no choice but to step up and help. But that’s just the kind of person he is. He’s a good man,” she says, her kind eyes staring over at me.

“He is,” I confirm with an affirmative head nod. And that’s the God’s honest truth. Everything I’ve seen about Linkin is that he’s a decent, sincere, giving man, even if he is, at times, a smug jerk who likes to push my buttons, just for the sake of pushing them.

But then I think about our situation, or the one that we might be in very soon.

A baby.

We haven’t been using protection, knowing good and well that a baby could be the result. In fact, that’s the hope, at least for me. Linkin volunteered to father my baby. A stranger. A friend, yes, but that’s more of a recent development. The man’s surely a little loco.

Even then, I still consider him more friend than stranger. So what does that make me?

Yeah, a little crazy too.

“He’s been a great friend to me through the tough events in my own life, and I’m very grateful for that. I hope he considers me as much of a friend as I do of him.”

“Oh, Lexi,” she says with a humorous chuckle. “Don’t you get it? You are. But you’re…more. The fact that you’re even here, with me and his brothers, tells me that.” She takes a moment to place the bowls on the counter. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

I give her my full attention, my gut churning with uneasiness. Words don’t come, so I nod my head in reply.

“He mentioned that you’re separated, getting divorced.” She doesn’t continue, nor does she ask the question I know is coming.

“I am,” I confirm. “I separated from my husband in October, and am pleased that he signed the divorce papers this last week. It’ll be finalized at the end of January.”

Karen nods her head. “Good. I’ll be honest, I was a little worried about him getting into a relationship with you with your divorce still pending.”

“I get that. I’m looking forward to nothing more than closing that chapter in my life and moving on. And,” I says, picking at the corner of a napkin, “I really hope that Linkin is part of that.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but gives me a warm, sincere smile and wraps her arms around me again. I feel like I just passed some big test where his mom is concerned, which makes the tightness in my chest loosen just a little more.

“I’m hungry!” Jack says, running into the kitchen, waving his sword.

“Me too!” Jeff exclaims, following on his brother’s heels.

“Me three!” Linkin adds with a wide smile as he brings up the rear.

And boy, oh boy, what a rear it is.

 

* * *

 

“You didn’t have to buy them anything,” Linkin says as we head back to our building.

“I know, but when I saw it all, I just knew I needed to get it for them.”

Of course, he’s referring to the gifts I found for the boys when I was Christmas shopping with Jaime and Payton. Not only did I find lighted swords, but daggers, shields, and armor too. It was a huge hit amongst the little gladiators, and we had to act out several death scenes before Linkin and I were able to leave for the evening.

Well, Linkin kept dying thanks to Jack’s sword.

I believe his words were, “She’s mine!” He would always yell it right before slamming the plastic weapon into his brother’s chest.

“I’d say it was a huge hit. Thank you,” he says, taking my hand and bringing it up to his mouth. The kiss is tender, his lips warm as he keeps his eyes on the road.

And I struggle to keep from crawling over the console and riding him like a carousel pony.

“You’re welcome. Seeing their faces when they opened them was worth it,” I answer, my breathing a bit more shallow now that his lips are drawing lazy lines across my knuckles.

“I’m pretty sure my bruised ribs would disagree.” He rubs his sore abdomen just to punctuate his point.

“You’ll live.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I might need a little TLC,” he says, flashing me a dirty smile.

“TLC?” I ask, playing along a bit, even though I’m already feeling squirmy in my seat.

“You know, mouth to mouth.”

That gets a bark of laughter. “Mouth to mouth? Or…mouth to other body parts,” I say, my voice dropping seductively, my eyes falling to his lap.

“Mouth to cock. I like it.” He’s already getting hard. I can see the outline of his cock through his jeans, and it makes my blood boil with excitement. I can’t believe I’m this ravenous for him. I’m like a horny teenager, craving him in a way I’ve never experienced before.

And that’s completely true. In the seven years I was with Chris, I never felt like this. As much as I loved him and enjoyed sex with him, what I’m experiencing with Linkin isn’t even in the same ballpark. They’re apples and oranges, night and day, whiskey and beer. Chris is all organized, schedules, and pressed Oxford dress shirts, while Linkin is, well, everything Chris isn’t.

I’m not saying that to be mean, but it’s true. Linkin is dangerous and thrilling. He’s smudges of grease on a pair of worn jeans and hair that’s standing straight up. But those things are what makes him…him. Sexy. Desirable. Magnetic. I’m drawn to him for who he is and how he makes me feel, which right now, is a little like I’m freefalling into the unknown. I may not know what’s coming, but I know it’ll be worth the ride.

Pulling into the parking lot, Linkin parks his truck, grabs the few small gifts he received from his mom, and comes around to help me out. Before we hit the sidewalk, I turn into his chest, reaching around and grabbing his ass.

Sliding my hand around to grab his front, I give him a saucy grin and ask, “Now, what was it you said about mouth to cock?”