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The holidays have always been a sore subject for Kate. Her most memorable Christmas was the year she'd woken up Christmas morning to find that Wayne had trashed all of the presents underneath the tree in one of his drunken fits—including the gingerbread ornament she'd made for her mom during art class. She'd spent a long time working on it too, making sure it was perfect. Ended up gluing her fingers together on accident.
After that, celebrating sort of lost its charm. She just never really saw the point.
But she thinks she's maybe starting to see the appeal, watching the way Sawyer's eyes darken appreciatively as he looks at her.
"Merry Christmas to me," he says as she moves closer, climbing onto the bed and into his lap.
Immediately, his hands are on her. Sliding up her bare thighs, over red lace with white fur. Purchased at the mall on a last-minute shopping whim and promptly stuffed into the back of the closet when she got home. So silly, she'd thought, except she can feel the effect it's having on him. That she's having on him.
She feels herself flush, feels liquid heat pooling low in her gut.
His lips brush against her throat. "Gonna let me unwrap my present early?"
"Only if you've been good."
He laughs, because they both know he hasn't. They both know it doesn't matter.
He wraps his arms tighter around her hips and rolls them over, settles in between her thighs. Presses her into the mattress, the weight of him warm and solid against her.
"Don't think I'm making the Nice List this year. Or any year."
She traces a hand up his back, digging her fingers lightly into the muscle. "You never know."
He hums, staring shamelessly at her chest. "Well, I know one thing. Santa won't be the only one coming tonight."
She snorts gracelessly, hand flying up to cover her mouth.
He grins abruptly, hair falling into his face. Seductive to boyish in a glance. "Too much?"
"Yes."
"Thought we were getting into the holiday spirit."
"Let's get back out again."
"Scrooge," he accuses, lips sliding down her jaw, her neck, her collar bone. Even lower. "Some folks can be so selfish around this time of year." A kiss to her sternum, then her stomach. Hands dragging a scorching path over her chest, across her ribs, fingers splayed wide. He pauses just above her hips, looking up at her with a devilish smirk. "Lucky for you, I'm a giver."
Before she can respond, his head dips between her thighs, and hers tips back, a breathless gasp escaping her mouth.
Maybe he can still get himself on the Nice List after all.