Winter Wishes (The Play #1.5) (12 page)

“Yes, love?”

“I want to work for you,” she whispers.

“What?” I pause, thinking she must be joking. “Are you taking the piss?”

“No,” she says quickly. “Not in the slightest. I want to help you, help Ruff Love. I think you’re right. I’d be really good at it.”

I twist around so I’m facing her, her skin lit up from the blue of moonlit snow. “Why the change of heart?”

She traces her fingers over my tattoos, staring at them intently. “Because. I want to help. I want to be a part of everything to do with you.” She looks up, eyes glistening. “I love you. So much. And I know you’re trying to help me but you’re also asking me to be a part of something big and meaningful. I want that. If you’re helping me, I want to help you.”

I’m so moved by this but also afraid. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into this at all. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” she says emphatically. “With you. Lachlan…tonight. Fuck, every night. Every day. You continue to surprise me. You make me fall in love, deeper and deeper, enough so that when I went back home, through all the shit that happened, it was thoughts of you that kept me going. The chance that maybe I’d see you again. I don’t want to fuck any of that up. I want to be with you for as long as I can and if working at Ruff Love can help that become a reality, well that’s a reality I want.”

“And your writing…”

“My writing will always be there. I’ll keep trying on the side. But until it happens, this is where I want to be.”

“You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me,” I tell her, my voice becoming choked. I bring her into me, kissing the top of her head, then down her face, absolutely consumed by my feelings for her. They flicker, deep flames, and I have no desire to ever put them out.

I only want to fan them until they take us both.

I move back on the bed, taking my lips from her cheek, to her mouth, to her collarbone and all the way down the middle of her body. She slowly squirms underneath me in languid anticipation.

I lick a line down each hipbone and then bury my face between her legs. Her smell makes me harder than a rock, wanting so desperately to be inside of her but first I indulge my tongue, wanting to give, give, give. It’s only been a few days but that’s a few days too long.

Kayla tastes so unbelievably good, addictive as always, and I groan into her, the vibrations making her moan. My tongue swirls around her clit before plunging inside of her.

She’s wet as sin and growing slicker by the moment, hips grinding into my face. Greedy, greedy girl. Just the way I love her.

Then her hands are in my hair, a tight fist, and her legs are splayed wider, needing more. I pull back, wanting to be a tease and gently blow on her cunt until she’s begging for it.

I attack her with my tongue, pulsing it in and out of her. She’s so silky, so tight, and soon she’s coming as I press my tongue over her clit, her thighs wrapped on either side of my head and squeezing tight, her skin throbbing beneath my lips. She manages to keep from being as loud as she usually is but her low moans are deadly.

I can’t help but look up. She’s gripping the sheets for dear life, her back arched and her perfect mouth open. Any other night I’d think she was begging for my cock, but tonight I want to be as deep inside of her as possible. I need, crave, our connection.

I get between her legs, and, grabbing her thighs, pull her back toward me, keeping her legs up. I position myself at her entrance, so wet and ready, like a second home. My only home.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I manage to whisper. I clench my jaw and stare down at her as I slowly push my cock in. She’s still breathing heavily, her head rolling back and forth on the pillow, her dark hair splayed beneath her.

I stare down at my cock where I ease into her, her legs in my hands, my ass driving me in deep, deep, deep. I lift up her legs higher, my fingers digging into her flesh, and thrust in at a sharper angle. I know I’m hitting her G-spot when she groans and starts gripping the sheets again. She looks up at me briefly with shiny eyes and wild bedhead, biting her lip. I know it’s the look that I’m doing something brilliant to her. It’s the look I always chase.

I push in again, slowly dragging myself out so I’m hitting all the right nerves. She’s always so tight, that beautiful fist around me.

She gasps as her nerves erupt, her eyes pinching shut, her mouth falling open again. And I want more of it. I want to blow her bloody mind.

I reach down and start petting her clit with hard, quick little taps that happen in time with my thrusts as my hips piston myself in and out of her. In and out. With each slow, deliberate push, I feel her become undone around me. She’s squirming underneath me and I know she’s praying to come, for that release. The pressure from my fingers and my cock is just too much for her to handle and every second of this torture is all mine.

We slowly build to a crescendo. And as much as I want to go fast, we go as if we have all the time in the world. We move together, as one, sweat on sweat, skin on skin, heart to heart.

Kayla comes first, as she usually does, as she always should. Her eyes widen as if in shock, as if the orgasm has a real grip and is pulling her somewhere, taking her by surprise. But where she’s being taken, it has to be heaven.

She cries out, loud for a moment before I manage to briefly press my palm against her mouth to gently stifle her. I can feel her hot breath, her wet lips, her moans as they try to escape. Her cheeks flush, chest rises and her eyes can barely focus. She’s flying high.

And she’s flying with me. I come just as intensely, my cum slamming inside of her, hot and fast, as she squeezes me, the orgasm ripping through both of us. I moan, taking my hand away from her mouth, feeling powerless against everything except the sunshine rising deep inside me, blasting away the night, the dark, the unknown.

The shadows are gone.

I here.

I am there.

I am hers.

Completely.

When we’ve both caught our breaths, we curl up into each other and I pull the covers over us, tucking us in tight.

Christmas may be over.

But we have just begun.

***

Breakfast the next morning is somewhat melancholic. It’s a strange feeling, to actually feel part of a family, something deep and organic. I know I’ve felt it over the years, but when you’re an orphan, that longing, that search to belong, it never really leaves you. But at least now, after last night, it’s abated. There is peace. There is relief. And when it’s all over, I think I’ll be just a wee bit sad.

“Well, I guess it’s time I go check in with the neighbors,” Brigs says, downing a glass of orange juice before getting up.

“I’ll go with you,” I offer and he nods. Kayla is busy helping Jessica clean up, so it’s just us brothers.

We bundle up and then head out into the snow, Winter kept hidden and warm in Brigs’ coat. After the dark storm for the last few days, the sunshine and snow is blinding.

We don’t talk about much as we walk. Brigs doesn’t seem to want to discuss London and the teaching position, so I steer the conversation into film, something that animates him.

But he turns it to Kayla.

“I really thought you were going to propose to her,” Brigs says.

I give him a steady look. “It’s not the right time.”

“Will there be a right time?”

“Why are you so curious?”

“Guess I just want you to be happy,” Brigs says with a shrug. “Besides, I like her. She’s a ballbuster and she’s good for you. Dare I say you might be good for her.”

I sigh. I have to admit, it feels good to hear it from him. “Things will happen in due time. For now though, I’m just happy she’s here. That she’s staying.”

“And the job hunt?”

“She’s working for me now,” I tell him.

“You old dog,” he says, grinning. “Getting your girlfriend to work for you.”

“I’ll be paying her,” I remind him.

“Yeah. Just don’t get that all confused as to what you’re paying for.”

“Shut it, Brigs.”

It’s not long before we end up at the neighbors and Brig’s car, half-buried in the snow. It’s going to take a team of us later on to dig him out but it at least looks like the neighbors are home now.

We knock on the door and Brigs brings Winter out of his coat. The little pup wriggles around, trying to lick Brigs’ face and in that moment, I see that Brigs is going to have a hard time giving him up if he has to. I hate to admit it, but that makes me happy. Now he knows. Now he gets it. It’s hard to let go of man’s best friend.

Mrs. MacAuley, a middle-aged lady with salt and pepper Hilary Clinton hair, answers the door. I recognize her and she recognizes us.

“The McGregor boys,” she says. “Merry Christmas to you.”

“Merry Christmas,” we say in unison, like a bunch of stupid kids.

“Listen,” Brigs says, as her eyes focus on the puppy. “I drove my car into a snowbank just over there the other night. No one here was home and I ended up in the barn, looking. I came across this little puppy all alone so I took him in so he wouldn’t die in the cold. We were wondering if it belonged to you.”

She shakes her head. “My heavens. What an angel he is,” she says, touching the tip of his coal-black nose. “But he’s not ours. I’ve never seen him before.”

“You’re sure?” Brigs asks.

She nods. “Absolutely.”

“And you don’t want him?” I ask her and I can feel Brigs’ icy eyes on me.

“Oh, goodness, no. I love dogs but Allistair is allergic. Surely you can find a home though. You still run that shelter, don’t you Lachlan?”

“Aye,” I tell her. “We’ll find a loving home. Just wanted to make sure.”

We thank her for her time, wish her a happy new year, and then walk back to the house, the snow crunching beneath our boots.

“I can’t believe you offered her the dog,” Brigs say to me as an aside.

“Well, you said you didn’t want the dog,” I tell him, my voice light. I breathe in and out the fresh air, my breath hanging in a frosted cloud. “Unless you do.”

Brigs doesn’t say anything.

I clear my throat. “Look, I get it. I do. They’re a lot of responsibility.”

“That’s not it,” he says darkly.

“I’m not done. They’re a lot of responsibility. A lot of time, commitment and care. But most of all, they’re about a lot of love. It’s about opening yourself up and experiencing something unconditional while trying to give it in return. Because lord knows, dogs will test that love and patience every time they chew your favorite shoe or piss in your bed.”

“Lachlan, you don’t have to do your spiritual dog spiel on me.”

I continue. “The thing is, loving something after you’ve lost so much is scary. I know this and yet I can’t even pretend to know it the way that you do. Loving a dog, letting it into your life. It’s like letting in love. Falling in love. It’s about getting attached to something that will die in your lifetime. And it’s horrible to think that way but I think that’s why we get so attached to animals, to our pets. We outlive them. Their time on earth is limited and they have nothing but love to give. But that’s what makes every day with them even sweeter. Loving a dog is about loving and losing. But your heart comes out bigger, and stronger, in the end.”

Brigs is silent for a few moments, the only sound is our breath and our footsteps along the road, everything else muffled by the snow.

Finally he says, “Shit, Lachlan. Why don’t you put that on your Ruff Love brochures?”

“Only if it works with you.”

When we get inside the house, everyone is gathered by the fireplace for one last cup of tea. Kayla is surrounded by Tupperware containers filled with turkey and haggis (the vegetarian kind – the original didn’t sit too well with her).

“How did it go?” Jessica asks.

“I see you still have the mutt,” George comments bitterly.

“It’s not theirs,” I tell them. “They’ve never seen the puppy before.”

“So I guess he’s going to Ruff Love then,” Jessica says sadly.

I’m about to nod when Brigs says, “Actually, he’s staying with me.” I grin as Brigs raises the white snowball in the air. “Everyone, say hello to Winter McGregor.”

Everyone, minus George, says a cheery greeting, with Jessica and Kayla getting up to coo at the puppy. I clap Brigs joyfully on the back before I grab Kayla by the arm and pull her to me, kissing her forehead.

I look at everyone around me.

So many of us beaten up by life.

But still here.

Still breathing.

My people.

My heart.

My clan.

The End

Thank you for reading Winter Wishes. After this, you may want to read the epilogue to The Play again, as it takes place after this novella and really cements Kayla and Lachlan’s relationship.

Look for
The Lie
, the story about Brigs, releasing on February 15
th
2016.