In a flash, her hands tightened in my hair. She pulled me so deep, I could barely breathe, but I wanted to keep hanging on. I released her breasts and fled my arms down her sides, grasping her hips and pulling her even closer. For the first time I could remember, I swallowed a woman’s taste down instead of merely tolerating it, and the way her body shook with pleasure tugged a grin across my cheeks.
Her body collapsed to the bed with a thud, and I peppered her thighs with kisses before I emerged from the covers.
She was panting for air and shining with sweat. I brought the covers up around us quickly, hoping to trap the heat we’d created around our bodies. I laid down next to her and pulled her into my arms, feeling how much she was quaking as I wrapped my arms around her. Her forehead was pressed against my chest, and her hands were clinging to the fabric of my shirt. I ran my fingers through her hair, trying to help her settle the trembling of her body.
It was possible I could’ve fallen asleep just like that with her.
“Dashing through the snow,” she said.
My chest started vibrating with something just as my eyes fluttered shut.
“In a one horse open sleigh,” she said.
Furrowing my brow, I craned my neck down to look at Abby. I could feel her nuzzling deeper into my chest as her leg snaked in between mine, but I couldn’t quite make out the words she was saying.
Until she pulled back and smiled at me.
“Over the fields we go, laughing all the way,” she sang.
I stared at her blankly while she continued to sing. The sparkle in her eyes was evident, and she was no longer heaving for air. The quaking of her body had diminished, even though that red tint was still flushing her skin. I could see how happy she was, with her body wrapped around mine and her cheeks filled with warmth.
But she was a terrible singer, and I wouldn’t be able to stand it the rest of the night.
“Please stop,” I said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you’re a terrible singer.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t sing if I want to,” she said. “What if I feel good?”
“I would hope you do,” I said, grinning.
She snickered and shook her head, but the singing ceased. We laid there in silence while the cold slowly set back into our bones, and after a few minutes, she was huddling closer and closer into me. Her hands snaked up my shirt, pressing into the small of my back while I tried to hold back my moans. The electricity her touch shot through my body was unmistakable, and I had no idea why I was reacting this way.
“Why do you hate the holidays so much?”
At first, I didn’t think I’d heard her right.
“Why do I hate them?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I flicked my eyes down to the top of her head while she laid there, naked in my arms. How the hell was I supposed to answer that question? I didn’t hate them. I just didn’t celebrate them often. There wasn’t time, with work and meetings and things like that. And then there was the hassle of picking out a Christmas tree and then vacuuming up the pine needles that fell from its branches. Then you had to buy people gifts to show them you cared, and everyone was always so damn picky about what they wanted. Then you had to get them a gift receipt, just in case the gift you got them wasn’t quite what they wanted. Then there were the incessant amount of parties and people stressing over the food for their parties. Then you had to spend time with family and listen to them drone on about how they think they understood your business before they ask you questions like “why are you still single?” and “why don’t you ever take vacation?”.
Okay, so the holidays weren’t my forte. Why was that such a big deal?
“Is it just because you don’t have anyone to celebrate them with, or did something happen?” Abby asked.
I sighed and held her close against my body, but I still wasn’t sure I was ready to answer that question.
“If you answer mine, I’ll answer one of yours,” she said.
Now that caught my attention.
“Okay, fine,” I said.
“Why are you not headed home for the holidays?” she asked.
“Because going home reminds me of my childhood,” I said.
I felt her wiggle away from my grasp before she scooted up my body. Soon, her head was planted on a pillow next to mine while she wrapped herself up in blankets. The chill in the air was beginning to settle again, and I knew if I was getting cold, then she had to be cold. I wondered if she was going to venture out and put any pajamas on, but there was a part of me that wanted her naked. I wanted to hold her skin underneath my fingertips all night.
“What happened when you were a child?” she asked.
“First, you have to answer one of mine,” I said.
“Yes, that was the agreement. Shoot.”
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” I asked.
“Because he cheated on me.”
“Abby, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “How were you supposed to know?”
She rolled onto her back, and I could tell her memories were sweeping her
