Holly

Setting a plate of cookies on the little table by the fireplace, a wave of loneliness swept over me. It was a Christmas Eve tradition I’d shared with my mom from before I could even remember. With her gone, it was a little bittersweet. In one of the many photo albums she’d made of my childhood, there was a picture of me as a soon-to-be one year old reaching out in an attempt to grab one of the frosted, cut-out cookies. Then when I was almost two, she’d snapped a shot of me sprinkling colored sugar onto a cookie that was almost as big as my head and shaped like the man I was decorating it for. Santa deserved the best of the best, after all. Or at least that’s what I’d thought all those years we’d put cookies out for him.

“Not so much this year, though, after putting Jacob on my mind,” I grumbled to myself as I yanked one of the cookies off the plate and shoved it in my mouth. The big guy in the red suit messed with my head, so it only seemed fair to steal one of his cookies.

And a little bit of his milk, too. I gulped it down and smiled to myself, thinking about how I’d caught my mom doing the same thing when I was nine—only she’d grimaced because she hated milk. But she drank it anyway. When I’d asked her about it a few years later, she’d explained that someone had to drink it. I’d suggested that pouring it down the sink would have worked just as well, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She’d insisted I would have been able to tell by the lack of lip marks on the cup that nobody had drunk from it. Looking down at the rim of the cup in my hands, I saw a half-moon of milk left behind by my lips and laughed to myself. “She was right. I probably would have noticed if she had just poured it down the sink.”

Then again, she usually was… even when it came to Jacob and me. She’d warned me that young love was fragile and as much as it seemed we were meant to be together at the time, our futures were far from certain. Especially with our age difference. I was older for my grade, about to turn sixteen, but Jacob would be a senior, and then while I still had two years of high school, he would be going off to college. Life happened, and I thought I had found a way to move on.

Only, my Christmas Eve was filled with thoughts of Jacob, making me realize I wasn’t as over him as I believed. I guessed it wasn’t any surprise that when I finally went to bed, I was bombarded by dreams of him all night long. When he’d first left, I’d dreamed of him each and every night, reliving all the moments we’d shared together when I slept. Eventually, the dreams came further and further apart until I barely had them at all. But I made up for it on Christmas Eve, as they came fast and furious.

The first one was more a memory than a dream. It was well worth remembering—the first time Jacob hit “second base” with me.

We were sitting on the couch in my living room, watching a movie while my mom had run out to the grocery store. A scary one. I hated them, but Jacob loved ‘em. Or at least, he loved how I reacted when I was startled. I literally crawled onto his lap, freaked out, even though I knew it was all pretend.

“I can’t believe I agreed to watch this!”

“My evil plan worked,” he rasped in my ear. “I’ve got you right where I want you, Holly Berry.”

I giggled at the nickname. “Oh you do—“

He took advantage of my mouth being open and sealed his lips over mine, shutting me up with a deep kiss. His tongue licked into my mouth, slowly tangling with mine. My hands went to his hair and slid through it, tugging when he wrapped his arms around me and moved me until he had me on my back on the couch. His mouth swallowed my surprised gasp as his hand slid under my shirt, all the way up until he was cupping my breast over my lace bra.

I moaned, “Jacob—”

“You feel even better than I imagined. Soft here.” He kneaded it with gentle squeezes. “But not here.” His fingers slipped under the lace and went straight for my pebbled nipple, rolling and tugging it.

I lay there, squirming beneath him as he lifted my shirt higher and then lowered his head down to my chest, his heated blue eyes scanning my face to make sure I was okay with what he was doing.

“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for, but somehow knowing he needed the reassurance that I was right there with him the whole way.

His mouth surrounded my nipple, making my back arch upwards when I felt the wet heat against my skin.

“Oh, no,” I moaned, my gaze darting frantically to the door at the sound of my mom’s car in the driveway. In a flash, Jacob had my bra back in place, my shirt shoved down and me cuddled up next to him like nothing earth-shattering had just happened. Only it had… and I’d never forgotten.

As the night progressed, so did my dreams. Each one racier than the last. More memories, intermingled with fantasies. Some parts so familiar because of how many times I’d pictured them in my mind over the years. But they felt new. Exciting. And oh so real.

“Let me make you come, Holly. I’ve been thinking about it for days. Weeks. Months, even.”

When his hand pushed between my legs, they fell open and made room for him. My body was so aroused, I didn’t have it in me to feel an ounce of shame or self-consciousness.

“You’re so wet for me.” His gaze slid down my body to where his fingers drifted against me. “Soft,” he groaned. “And pink.”

It was strangely arousing, knowing he was looking at me down there while I was watching his every reaction. Then he slid one finger carefully into me, and my eyes fluttered shut.

“So damn tight.” He pulled his finger out and thrust it gently back into me as far as it would go. My back arched as I clenched around him. “Because you’ve never let anyone else slide their finger into you like this, have you?”

I shook my head, swallowing hard.

“That’s right, Holly. This pussy is mine, just like every inch of you is all mine. Nobody else gets to touch you. Only me.”

He pulled out and pushed back into me with two fingers this time, making me moan in need.

“Nobody else gets to see you like this. To hear the sounds you make when you come. Only me.”

“Only you,” I breathed out, my hips circling shamelessly onto his thrusting fingers. I’d never felt like this before in my life. Having him touch me was infinitely better than what I’d done on my own while thinking about him in bed late at night.

“Damn straight,” he growled.

He twisted his wrist, changing the thrust of his fingers, and my eyes popped open. I found him staring down at me, his face flushed with lust. For me. I’d done that to him, just by responding to his touch.

“Please, Jacob. I need…” I didn’t really know what I needed. I felt like I was hanging over a ledge, my body drawn tight and my walls rippling around his stroking fingers.

“What do you need, baby? Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

“More,” I panted.

“Then more is what you’ll get.” The pad of his thumb rubbed my clitoris in gentle circles. Everything tightened in my core, the tension building as he massaged my clit and pushed his fingers in and out in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“So close,” I whimpered.

“Give it to me, Holly. Let me see you fly apart for me.”

My climax hit me as my hips pumped onto his hand. Any hint of shyness had long since flown out the window. My gaze was locked on his blue eyes, fascinated by the masculine triumph that flared in them.

Then his gaze switched from my face to the spot between my legs where his fingers still played. I didn’t have enough time to register the wicked gleam in his eyes before his head dropped low and he thrust his tongue inside me as I convulsed against him.

“Ohmigod,” I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair. My pussy fluttered and clenched, trying to pull his tongue deeper. He groaned against me, and the vibrations made my climax go on and on. He didn’t let up, spurred on by my moans and whimpers. He lapped and nibbled at my throbbing clit until I quickened again, two fingers pushing inside me. Thrusting. Stroking. Making me sensitive, it was all I could do to not thrash against the invasion.

“No more,” I cried out, my head tossing from side to side. “I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he insisted. “And you will because you need to so I can fit inside your tight pussy.”

I nodded my head weakly, knowing he was right and wanting to feel him inside me like that so much.

“That’s my girl,” he breathed against my wet skin. His fingers twisted and turned, opening me for him. He hit a particularly sensitive spot, and my hips raised up as another orgasm pulsed through my body, just as devastating as the one before it.

He lifted up, his hands urgent as he yanked me down to the center of the bed. I was pinned underneath him, his forearms on either side of me. His eyes were so dark, they looked almost midnight blue. His cheeks were flushed red and his chin was wet—from me. From the second orgasm he’d thrust upon me to make sure I was ready for this. For him. And I was. Beyond ready.

“Jacob, please. Take me. I need you.”

“Holly,” he rasped out my name as he lined his hard length up with my opening and…

“Noooo,” I whimpered, dragged from my dream just as I was getting to the good part. There was a pounding noise at the door, and it must have been what had woken me up. A quick glance out the front window showed the sun was starting to rise and snow was steadily falling. I groaned when my eyes darted to the clock on the wall. Even the prospect of a white Christmas wouldn’t save Harley from my wrath at eight o’clock in the morning.

“I’m going to kill her,” I grumbled, marching to the door. There was only one person I knew who would have the nerve to pull me from my bed—well, my couch really, since I’d stumbled downstairs in the middle of the night to crash there since I wasn’t having a restful night—and being my best friend wasn’t going to save her from waking me up right when I was finally going to dream about what it felt like to have Jacob sink deep inside me. Even after hundreds of dreams about him, I’d never managed to reach that point, and I was pissed to have it stolen away from me. Being a virgin in both real life and my dream life sucked.

Flinging the door open, I opened my mouth to start my tirade at Harley, but it wasn’t her I found standing there and a startled yelp slipped from my lips instead. It was the only sound I was capable of making since I was stunned silent. Wondering if I was still dreaming, I pinched myself. The sting of pain was welcome because it meant this wasn’t a dream… it was Christmas morning and Jacob Marley was standing on my doorstep.

He was several inches taller than the last time I’d seen him, at least six feet tall now. His body was still all lean, sinewy muscles. His blond hair was a shade or two darker, his eyes the exact same bright blue I recalled. He smiled and sexy dimples dug deep into his cheeks. He was my Jacob, only better. Maybe holiday wishes really did come true after all.