A Sweet & Merry Christmas

A Sweet & Merry Christmas

Rebel Wayfarers
MC

MariaLisa deMora

Copyright © 2014 MariaLisa
deMora

All rights reserved. This
book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any
manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the
publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book
review.
This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
are either the product of the author's
imagination,
or
are used
in a
fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

First Published
2014

DEDICATION

To all the Jessica and Brandy’s I know and love. I
hope you find
your
happy, in whatever flavor
that happens to be.

A Merry & Sweet Christmas 3

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to the readers who kept asking
about Jess and Brandy, wanting to know more about the dynamics of
their relationship and how they met. See what happens when you tell
me you want something? Muuuwah, love alla you guys.

~ML

“You’re just in time! Pull up a stool, help
me ice these last ones,” Brandy Still called across the bakery,
lifting her head to smile at the petite woman who’d just walked in
the door from the
outside
. The bundled-up form
raised a hand with a noncommittal grunt, and began the process of
divesting herself of the seasonal wear necessary to survive a
Chicago winter.

Gloves first, revealing slim, white fingers,
then the scarf was carefully unwrapped from a slender column of
throat, and Brandy caught her breath. She loved watching Jessica
Nalan
do nearly anything, but seeing her
undressing, even if it was just the outer layer of clothing she
wore, made desire clench deep in her belly.

Next was the patchwork toque, tugged roughly
off leaving the short, pixie cut standing on end, her small fingers
threading through her blonde hair and bringing it back to some
semblance of order.
Brandy stood, still watching as
those same fingers deftly maneuvered the zipper of the coat down
past breasts and belly, the edges of the coat falling open to be
shoved aside when Jess removed the garment entirely, draping it
over a nearby chair.

“Let me wash my hands. I’ll be right back to
help,” Jess
said,
and Brandy tilted her head
questioningly. “You told me to help you ice cupcakes,
dork
. Did you forget already?”

Laughing, Brandy turned back to the tray of
individual cakes on the counter. “Yeah, right. I guess I just
didn’t think you’d take me serious.”
Shit
, she thought,
I
need to watch myself. I can’t get lost watching her like
that,
or she’s going to figure
things out
.

Piping buttercream icing on top of the
cupcakes, she was creating small cream-colored Christmas trees,
wreaths, reindeer, and candy canes, one after the other. She hadn’t
heard the swinging door that lead to the rear of the shop, but Jess
had probably headed back already. If she wasn’t just putting her
coat back on after seeing Brandy drooling over her.

She let out a surprised “
Eeep
” when she felt cold hands push under her shirt and
place themselves palm-first against the small of her back. Twisting
away, she scolded Jess, “Your hands are cold!”

“
And you are warm,” she heard,
but suddenly couldn’t concentrate on the words or the voice because
those hands had slipped to her sides, cupping around her ribs and
tugging her backwards slightly, holding her in place.
Her breath caught in her throat, if Jess knew what
this did to her, she’d move away, take the warmth of her hands from
her skin, the heat of her body from Brandy’s back.

She’d first noticed Jess on
the campus of the college they both attended, but the woman had
stuck close to her roommate, Mica Scott, and Brandy had never been
certain if they were a couple or not.
It wasn’t until they’d
graduated
and all moved to Chicago that they’d
become
friends,
and she decided Mica wasn’t
Jess’ lover, glad she’d kept her questions to herself. She was sure
Jess still didn’t know her sexual preferences, and Brandy was happy
to keep a lid on it in order to stay friends with her.

She’d seen
firsthand the cruel
wedge that could be driven into a friendship when she admitted
being interested in women
…
even
when she
hadn’t been attracted to that friend. She could just imagine the
Grand Canyon-sized gulf that would
be created
if she confessed her desires to Jess, who she’d lusted after for a
long time. So, she would just continue to hunger from a distance,
trying to hide her longing.

But those hands…
those
damn hands were still curled around her sides, slipping down to her
waist and then back up, it nearly felt like a caress.
Brandy closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of Jess’
now-warm hands on her, fingers pressing into her skin, trailing up
and down her ribs, the tie of her apron no deterrent to the
touch.
Soft, fingertips questing along the top of her jeans,
tracing the edge of the waistband around to the snap closure.

The small woman was a furnace behind
her;
Brandy could feel her breasts pressed
against her back. Hardly daring to breathe, she felt a kiss on her
spine at the same time those fingertips tugged at the snap,
loosening it before delving underneath. “Jess,” she whispered, not
sure what else to say, desperate to not derail this moment she’d
wanted for so long.

One hand drifted up her side, and she felt
the barest brush of fingertips across the side of her breast, a
slight graze across her nipple which pebbled and hardened under the
attention. Gently tracing along the upper curve of her mound, Jess
hooked one finger under the lace, tugging the fabric down, allowing
her breast to spill over the top of the cup and into her warm palm.
Exposed to her bare touch, Brandy felt a drawing sensation in her
breast, the tug reaching down from her hard nipple through her body
to her clit, throbbing in time with her fast-beating heart.

Another kiss on her spine and the woman’s
second hand flattened against her belly before sliding downward
into her pants.
Slipping into the front of her
panties
, Jess’ fingers pressed into
her,
and she heard a small gasp behind her when they
first touched her slippery wetness, evidence of her arousal. She
felt the delicate
rasp
of a fingernail dragged
across her clit once…twice, before the hand pushed further,
pressing what felt like two fingers deep inside her.

Involuntarily her hips thrust forward, her
back arching, shoulders pressing back against the woman plastered
against her.
Wordlessly Jess worked her, tugging and
pinching on her nipple in a rhythm sympathetic to the movements
against and inside her pussy, bringing her closer…drawing her
upward, relentlessly dragging her into the deep waves before
pushing her over the top, holding her tightly as she quivered in
her arms.

Dropping her head forward, she looked down
to see…
the
expanse of her icing-dotted apron,
fabric moving slightly with her gasping breaths. She felt suddenly
bereft, thinking,
I won’t even have the memory of what her
fingers looked like against my skin
.
One of her
hands was still holding the sleeve of icing and she saw the thick
mixture pressing against the tip of the bag as her hand tightened
around it, her other hand gripping the edge of the cabinet
tightly.

Maybe she doesn’t
know what to say
, she thought, even as she
felt Jess’ fingers righting her clothing, pulling the cup of her
bra back over the nipple and breast, the other hand tugging her
zipper up and fastening the snap on her jeans.

Say something
, she heard the quiet
plea and realized Jess must be even more frightened than she was.
Brandy, please…

Taking a deep breath, she laid
down the pastry bag and turned, not caring that she had sugar
coating her hands she began to reach out and then halted abruptly,
seeing Jess still across the room, just now laying her coat across
the back of the chair.
Closing her eyes in despair, she
realized she’d imagined the entire encounter. Nothing had
happened…nothing could happen.

Swallowing hard, she forced a smile onto her
face, “Slowpoke, get a move on it. Wash those nasty”
delicious
“fingers and get back out here”
back inside
me
“and help me finish this order for Mason.”

Jess grinned, “Since when does Mason order
cupcakes?” Mason was the president of a Chicago-based motorcycle
club that Mica had moved in next to earlier this year.
He’d developed a fondness for Mica, and Brandy had grown to like
and respect the man when she saw how gently he treated both of her
friends, behaving as if Jess and Mica were more like little sisters
than attractive, unattached young women.

“Since he’s having a party at Jackson’s, I
guess,” Brandy turned back to the counter and took a deep breath.
She’d had fantasies about Jess before but never like that, at work
and standing upright…
and
never with
the woman
in the room. Calling loudly, she
asked, “Bring one of the trays with you when you come back?”

“You got it,” she heard a
yell
from the back room, and then the door swung
outward,
and Jess came through, balancing two
trays. “Two is better than one, right?” she asked, laughing.

“Yeah, thanks.” She reached up to grab the
box of edible decorations, sliding it across the countertop to
Jess. “Sprinkles are in here, lots of colors. There are some other
things like cinnamon bits for reindeer noses, candy for ornaments.
Go crazy, woman. Make the cupcakes beautiful.”

Jess grinned up at
her;
a smile
lifting the corners of her eyes and
turning the lovely woman into a spectacularly beautiful one and
Brandy watched mesmerized as Jess licked across her bottom lip. “Am
I allowed to taste-test?”

God, yes. Please
. “You bet, go for
it. Just don’t make yourself sick.
Folks are bringing
sandwiches and snacks to the party, so there will be real food
there tonight in addition to the cakes we’re taking.”
Brandy
massaged the pastry bag of icing briefly, trying unsuccessfully to
not think about doing the same to Jess’ ass, and then got started
icing the rest of the cupcakes.

They worked side-by-side for a couple hours,
mostly in companionable silence, only broken by brief questions
about the flavors, or when they paused to laugh at a cupcake Jess
destroyed.
That had been another moment when Brandy’s
breath caught in her throat, because Jess broke the cake apart, and
fed one half to Brandy piece by piece, her gamine features grinning
up at Brandy the entire time, her fingers occasionally trailing
across Brandy’s lips in an unconscious tease.

When the chore was done,
Brandy leaned back against the counter, looking at the stacks of
boxes filled with iced and decorated cupcakes, ready to be packed
in her car for the trip across town to Jackson’s, the bar Mason
owned.
Brandy groaned inwardly when she looked at
Jess,
who was studiously licking her fingers
clean of icing. The woman was going to kill her. She mused,
Is
it possible to die from desire
?

Loading up the sweet treats, she casually
suggested Jess ride with her, and before she knew it, they were
locked in her van barreling up the road with Jess controlling the
music.
Laughing as they pulled into the parking lot
at the bar, they were both singing to silly, seasonal tunes and she
glanced over as she parked, catching a look she couldn’t quite
define on Jess’ face.
Their gaze locked for a
second,
then Brandy forced hers away, bending her head to
avoid looking at Jess again while they gathered up their gloves and
scarves, preparing to exit the vehicle.

At the back of the van, she was still
struggling with her gloves when she heard Jess say from right
beside her, “Hold still.” Freezing in place, she felt fingers
dipping alongside her neck, under her scarf, then tugging it up and
over her mouth and nose, the cloth of gloves grazing her skin as
the fingers retreated. Forcing her lungs to work again, she
muttered, “Thanks,” and opened the doors of the van.