As she moved beneath him, her breaths growing more and more uneven, he lined himself up and held her gaze so he didn’t miss asecond. He moved torturously slow, sensations racking him as he whispered her name. Maisie sucked in a sharp breath, his name on her lips, then pressed her hands to his lower back impatiently, urging him to give her everything, and then he was lost. Swirling, falling, tangled up in Maisie. There was nothing else but her and the way she made him feel. The way she made him forget the bad and remember how good—how perfect—felt.
For the first time ever, Nick had no clue where he was headed in life, and with Maisie beneath him, holding him like they were each other’s lifelines, their bodies and minds and mouths connected like unique, one-of-a-kind puzzle pieces that only fit each other, he absolutely did not care.
NICK GOT RID OFthe condom, washed his hands, and stared in the mirror. The man looking back at him was a hazy kind of familiar, like he’d aged in the week since he’d shown up. Not in a bad way. He just felt… different.
He tried to rein in his emotions, his need to map it all out and make a plan for how to achieve everything he wanted and needed in the shortest amount of time. Maisie was a person, not a game he could conquer and win. A gorgeous, funny, sweet person. A human filter, giving everything in his life a happier, sunnier glow.
Walking back to the bed, he stopped when he got to the foot of it, his heart feeling like it was being stretched from all sides. She was on her side, curled into his pillow. She gave him the sweetest most sated smile then reached out her arms for him.
Nick detoured, grabbed the tiny wrapped box, and then slid in beside her, soaking up the warmth of her body. Eyeing the box, Maisie grinned, then shoved her hand under one of the pillows, pulling out a small square box.
“I originally came in here to give you this,” she said.
Nick shifted so he was sitting and Maisie did the same. Sadly, she kept the sheet held tight to her chest.
“You had no intention of seducing me? You were just going to give me a present and leave?”
Schooling her features, she averted her gaze. “I admit nothing.”
Leaning over, Nick kissed her, not letting himself fall all the way into it because he wanted her to open his gift. They exchanged presents.
“Same time?” she whispered.
Both of them tore the paper, opened the boxes, and Nick laughed so loud, Maisie shushed him. She held up her own present, studying it with an adorable smile.
Nick eyed the delicate crystal reindeer figure he’d asked Colt to grab, hoping she liked it. “It’s a reminder that you are the only woman I would ever wear a reindeer onesie for.”
Maisie bit her lip but he was pretty sure he saw the sheen of tears in her gaze. Holding up the key chain inscribed withMr. Hockey, he waved it. “This is never leaving my keys.”
“It’s not much,” she whispered.
Nick shook his head. “Don’t do that. I love it. It’s perfect. Like you.”
Maisie set the reindeer on the nightstand then took the key chain and did the same. Turning back to him, she reached out and he was right there, wanting her again to an indescribable degree.
Between frantic kisses, he whispered against her skin. “Merry Christmas, Maisie.”
Her eyes found his in the semi-darkness. “Best Christmas ever.”
Chapter Nineteen
THERE WOULD NEVER BEanother Christmas as magical as this one. Maisie was sure of it before she even opened her eyes because she could feel the outline of Nick’s sculpted body against her own. She could hear his soft breathing and felt the warmth of his skin under her hand, his chest rising and lowering. Oh yeah, Santa had come through this year.
She’d just started a slow exploration of his wide, muscled chest that was covered with the lightest dusting of dark hair, his fingers hadjustflexed against her hip when Asher’s voice came through the, thankfully, closed door.
“It’s Christmas!”
Maisie managed to duck under the covers as Nick startled awake and the door flew open, slamming into the little stopper thing as his nephew, blissfully unaware and full of the kind of joy only children could feel this early in the morning—though Maisie’s joy upon waking was definitely a close second—launched himself onto the bed.
Maisie bit her lip, kept her head under the covers as Nick let out a sharp, loud, “Oof.” And a very strained, “Hey, buddy. Merry Christmas.”
The bed shook with Asher’s bounces, his little foot getting Maisie right in the ribs, then the bladder.
“Get up, get up, get up,” Asher chanted.
“Asher.” Ellie’s laughter floated into the room. “Let him get out of bed, honey.”
Silence. Little boy bouncing. Precarious bladder situation.
