Chapter 11

eleven

DENNIS

Sydney is lying in the middle of her sweat-soaked sheets on her belly, and I can’t stop myself from nipping at her ass. She’s breathless when she turns and looks at me, her eyes still hazy from her orgasm. Somewhere under her, the toy we used is still vibrating.

“When you said hard limit on butt stuff, was that just that night or always?”

She groans and buries her head into her pillow. Her legs are just spread enough that I can trace the curve of her ass to the top of her thigh before reaching between them, where my cum is still leaking out of her. I slide one finger into her, withdrawing it to add a second finger. Her groan turns into a moan when she rocks against the bed.

“Sydney?” I prompt, stilling my hand.

Her head whips in my direction, eyes narrowed in annoyance. Her hair is a mess. Most of it is gathered back and away from her face in a ponytail that’s been tugged and pulled on for the last hour as I took her from behind. Her bangs are half-matted to her face or sticking up, and she looks like the most magnificent creature I’ve seen in my life .

“I’ll answer you if you don’t stop.” She slides her hand between her body and the bed, and I can feel the vibrator as it makes contact with her body.

“Is your pussy still greedy? Does my girl need another orgasm after taking my cock so well just now?” I can see how she lights up from the praise, and she answers me with another rock of her hips, so I reward her by sliding three fingers into her aching cunt.

“Mhm. To answer your question…” Her voice is breathy as she works herself on my fingers. I’m not going to interrupt. I just hold still and let her chase her release. “I haven’t really considered it beyond setting a limit as something I didn’t want to do if we just had one night.” Her body gives a little pulse around my digits, and I know she’s close. “Oh god, don’t move,” she begs before I watch her body press into the toy, a soft moan following her declaration. Her pussy pulsates around my fingers as she has another orgasm. Sydney buries her face into her pillow as she moans through it.

I wait till her body goes soft again before removing my fingers and moving the toy from her probably over-sensitized body. While she pants and gets her head on straight, I climb from the bed and sneak into the bathroom to turn the tub on and wash my hands and the toy. When I return, she’s right where I left her.

“I would be up to exploring that if you want to,” I offer, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She turns her head again so she can face me. Her grey eyes are bright with mischief.

“Of course, you are. No guy ever has said no when a woman offers him a tighter hole to fuck.”

I poke her sides and she giggles, curling up protectively. “This is all new, and we’re still feeling each other out. I’ve never done it and I didn’t know if you had.”

She’s still smiling when she sits up and grabs my face. I know what she’s doing. She’s trying to make it clear she’s being serious. I’ve noticed her do this when she’s about to say something she wants to make sure I hear clearly, even if it’s just that she doesn’t want to pick what we eat for dinner. “I have not done it, and I would be open to exploring new things with you. I want you to know you can always come to me if there is something new you want to try.”

“Noted. Now, why don’t you go hop in the bath while I strip the bed?”

“Why? It’s Saturday. We should just lie in bed naked together because I don’t have to work and neither do you.” She falls backward onto the mattress and teases her nipple with one finger. I know she’s watching me, trying to see how long I can let my focus on her breast be only in the peripheral. I’m weak. I don’t last long, turning to see where she’s turned the dark pink flesh into a stiff peak.

I close my mouth over it, catching her finger as well, which she quickly draws back so I can lavish my full attention on her. I’ll never get enough of her pleasure. Her eyes have closed and her face has gone soft as she lets me love on her body. My other hand cups the opposite breast so it doesn’t get too lonely. I tease the skin with my teeth before I nip at the tip and sit up.

“You cannot tempt me with sex and boobs. We have things to get done. So…” I tweak her other nipple while I rise, my growing erection on display. “Tub. Shower. Errands.”

Sydney isn’t looking at my serious face, though. Her eyes are on my cock, and while it does finally rouse her from bed, the tub is near overflowing by the time I get her into it after she takes my cock in her mouth and makes me cum hard enough that my knees go weak.

When I pull up to the big box store just outside town, Sydney’s excitement wanes.

“What do you need from here?”

She’s on the seat beside me, sitting on her hands to warm them. My truck might be new to me, but it is still an old truck. No heated seats meant Carmen always wanted to take her car, even if I was the one driving her around. Not that I complained, but it was refreshing to watch Sydney jump up into the cab without complaint.

I put the car in park and debate how to answer her. I can’t lie to her. I won’t. “I need to pick up some decorations.”

Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. Whatever internal struggle she has, she gives up with a loud sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

I climb out and have to fight the smile on my face as she practically stomps her way to the doors. There are families pushing carts laden with sweets and food and decorations for the holidays. A few adults look like they’re on a mission with a shopping list in their hands, and haggard parents who have their children by the wrist as they drag them through a temper tantrum probably spurred on by not getting a toy that is probably already at home wrapped and waiting for Santa to bring them.

“You know, you’re awfully angry when I didn’t even say they were decorations for you,” I tease, jogging to catch up to her.

She stops short and looks up at me with the cutest scowl on her face and her arms crossed. It makes me want to kiss her even more than I already do. “Dennis, are the decorations for me? ”

“Yes, sugar, they are,” I confirm, causing her to throw her hands in the air and turn in the direction of the store.

“Don’t gaslight me, Dennis! I knew we were shopping for me, because I would bet every last penny in the bank that you already have a storage unit’s worth of decorations.”

“You know, a storage unit isn’t a bad idea. It would definitely open up space in my basement. And I didn’t mean to gaslight you. You’re just adorable with how mad you are and I couldn’t help but push your buttons.”

She stops abruptly again, and I nearly stumble back to avoid plowing her over. “Thin fucking ice, sir.”

I lean down so we’re nose-to-nose. “Call me ‘sir’ one more time.”

“Will it get me out of this excursion if I do?”

“No, but I enjoy the idea of experimenting with edging when we get home.”

She leans closer to me so when she speaks I can feel the brush of her lips against mine. “The whole point is to give me a punishment worth being endured.”

“I promise I would make it worth your while.”

She surprises me by kissing me. “Let’s just get this over with already.”

I follow her into the store and take her hand in mine, loving the feel of it as I guide her to the Christmas decorations. She slows as we pass all the fake trees that blink colorful lights at us. I can see the widening of her eyes and wonder if it’s too much, especially when the doors to the garden department open, offering glimpses of giant blow-ups.

“I’m not going to throw you into the deep end. We can get a fake tree from here or a real one from Winter’s Farm. That’s your first choice.”

She looks around at the trees in varying sizes. I sort of want her to say that we should get a real one so I can take her to Winter’s place and stroll the aisles of trees looking for the perfect one while sipping hot chocolate.

“Can I skip the tree this year? Maybe we can just focus on decorating outside?”

“Of course. Whatever you want,” I say, kissing her temple. I sling my arm around her shoulders and lead her out into the garden section, where we are met with the enormous blow-ups. Quickly, I steer her away from them.

“False, I don’t want to do this at all, but you’re twisting my arm.”

I stop short, hating that I’m making her feel like she’s boxed in. She seemed like she was enjoying herself at the festival. As we walked around, I caught her with a smile on her face more than a few times. Maybe I misread the situation and it wasn’t the festival she was enjoying. I thought doing something small for the holiday might help draw her out, but I don’t want to pressure her.

“Sydney, sugar. I’m sorry. We can leave. We don’t have to do anything. Really.”

She shakes her head. “No, we’re already here.” She floats away from me, down one of the aisles that has walkway lights in varying designs. I watch her, trying to judge if she really is okay with it. “Stop looking at me like that,” she warns, waving a gingerbread-topped light at me.

“I’ll take you at your word.” I grab a cart and start to collect the little bullshit essentials I’ll need: a timer, plug protectors, extension cords.

I let her feel out what she’s looking for, and put anything she lingers on longer than a minute in the cart, which isn’t much. She looks at a few pathway markers and a projection of dancing gingerbread cookies. I figure I can use one set of the markers for her driveway and the other for her walkway. I otherwise keep it simple, grabbing three times as many boxes of lights as I think I’ll need. I’ve been burned before by them discontinuing a style I liked when I went to expand its use the following year as I replaced my parent’s older decorations.

“Do we need that many?” she questions, her hand lingering on the end of the cart as I grab another box and toss it in.

“Probably not, but what if next year you let me decorate more and these aren’t available? Then we’ll be stuck with two different types of lights, and you’ll be yelling at me from the sidewalk as we test the lights that the house looks silly with different lights.”

She’s fighting the smirk on her face. “You’re that confident that I’ll let you decorate again?”

“I’m that confident I will be with you this Christmas and the next and the year after, that I’m buying all these decorations for our years to come.”

“Willing to put money on that?” she asks as she inches closer before pressing her body against mine. Her hands come up to the back of my neck, her nails gently scratching my nape. My cock instantly stirs at her nearness, at how her breasts crush against my chest. Through all our layers, I imagine I can still feel the hardened points of her nipples. Her supple frame rubs against me as she lifts to her toes to press a kiss just under my ear. The heat of her breath is only spurring me on, and there is no stopping my hands from grabbing her around the waist to try to close any gaps that don’t exist. It causes my hard-on to press against her thigh, and I love watching as desire dilates her pupils. I nearly groan at the need to move her back down then up again so I can get the friction I so desperately need.

“I am, sugar.” I want to gesture at the cart when I whisper the words, but I can’t break eye contact with her. I want…no, I need her to know that this might be fast, but I’m falling hard for this incredible woman in my arms and I have no intention of stopping my descent .

I see the uncertainty in her eyes, but I don’t know what’s holding her back. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m throwing myself headlong into a relationship with someone who isn’t ready for something so serious. Before I can ask her, a throat clears from beside us.

Like two teenagers caught fooling around, we both release the other with a giant step back.

It’s Mildred, looking like the cat who caught the canary as she studies the two of us.

“Mrs. Blumenthal,” I greet, coughing into my fist as I try to steal a glance at Sydney to see if she’s embarrassed to be caught with me. “How are you today?”

“Just fine, Deputy, but if you had gone on any longer you two would have run the risk of making this old lady pregnant just watching you, and it’s been nearly twenty years since I started menopause.” She gives a cackle, because no, she doesn’t just laugh, she cackles. She’s the epitome of the town crazy lady, but I know everyone is fiercely protective of her, including her two best friends, Bernice and Sheila. Her snow-white hair is cut short with wild curls going this way and that.

“What brings you out, Mildred?” Sydney asks. She glances in my direction before her gaze travels south to my crotch. When the corner of her mouth lifts in amusement, I know I must be sporting a noticeable erection and I need to get that thing under control before Mildred makes a comment, and then the rumor around town will be that I was fucking Sydney like the world was ending, which…now I’m thinking about fucking Sydney and it’s not helping.

Sarah McLachlan and that sad commercial with all the animals that are sad and homeless. Yes, this should help.

“Well, I thought I would spruce up the block since one of my neighbors lacks the Christmas spirit every year, but it seems like she’s finally getting her fill of a rather large candy cane this year, so hopefully that helps.”

“Always a pleasure, Mildred,” Sydney says, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“See you around town, Mrs. Blumenthal,” I say, trying to keep it cordial as I place a hand on the small of Sydney’s back to guide her away.

“Not nearly as much as I’m seeing of you, Deputy! Sydney, dear, if you’re not considering investing in better curtains for your bedroom, then perhaps you’ll buy me a popcorn maker. I’m getting quite the show these days, and I don’t want to miss a second.”

Sydney chokes on her own spit, I assume, because I’m pretty much choking on the same thing as we hear Mildred’s cart wheel away.

“She can see us?” I whisper-yell into Sydney’s ear.

“ Apparently . It’s not like I’ve ever said: Oh hey, Millie, you can’t see me getting myself off through the blinds, can you?”

I should focus on the problem of people being able to see into Sydney’s windows, but instead my cock has latched on to the image of her lying in bed alone with her legs spread and her delicious pussy on display as she uses a toy to pleasure herself. Does she have a dildo she prefers or is her favorite that one that mimics sucking on her clit?

Sydney snaps in my face. “Mind out of my self-care time. I guess we’re also getting curtains for my bedroom. Do you think my boyfriend would mind putting them up for me?”

“I think we can work something out.”

I’m second-guessing myself as Sydney grumbles about her numb fingers while threading the lights around the spindles on her porch. This is not going to be the way to get her to love Christmas, just introducing her to the painstaking tasks associated with the holiday.

I place my hand over hers, stopping her as she tries to thread the lights around again. “Why don’t you go inside and make us some hot chocolate while I finish up?”

She eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t second-guess her good fortune. “Should I start something for lunch?”

I check my phone to see the time and shake my head. “No, but if you could preheat the oven to 375, that would be terrific.”

“You got it.” She disappears inside, and I let out a long breath as I survey just how much still needs to be done. I don’t mind. This was, after all, my idea. However, I underestimated how big her porch is. I wanted to get lights along the eaves of the roof, but that won’t happen today at least.

I work much more efficiently alone, humming under my breath before I finally finish and plug the lights in to check. My jog out to the curb for my spot check is quick because it’s getting much colder out, and I’m ready to be deep in the warm…house. Inside the warm house where it is warm.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to check the message. Part of me is hoping it’s Sydney teasing me to make my way back into the house, but more likely it’s a picture from my dad with a fish he caught.

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Carmen’s name appear, and I swipe to open the conversation. I didn’t have a real reason to block her number. We broke up, but it wasn’t like it ended on burn-it-to-the-ground terms. Besides, I’m a deputy in this town and it feels wrong to block one of the citizens when I know she could call me if she really needed help.

Im ready when ur done slumming it

I get it u wanted to try smthg new but playing house w/ her wont get u wat u want

Come home

I c u reading these texts

I close the exchange and put my phone in my pocket, not wanting to give any more of my energy to someone who made it clear where I rank in her world. But I can’t let this stand.

What I want is her. Don’t talk about her ever and please don’t text again.

I fumble with my phone, trying to figure out how to mute her texts before I pocket my phone. Through the window, I find where Sydney is in the kitchen right where I last saw her, and the anxiety from seeing Carmen’s name on my phone slowly seeps out of my chest.

Carmen is my past, a too long chapter in it, but my past nonetheless. I have no interest in rekindling anything with her. Even if Sydney were to reject me at some point for being too into Christmas or some other fatal flaw that drove Carmen away, I wouldn’t go back to my ex. Sydney has shown me all the ways it feels to have a partner appreciate you, and I’m in no rush to lose her or that feeling. It’s a feeling I know Sydney offers in spades.

On my walk back, I spot Sydney through the window again, a reminder that I need to put up all the blinds we got. Before I forget, I actually double back to see if you can see into Sydney’s bedroom. As I suspected, Mildred was teasing us, probably looking to see just what sort of reaction we would give, and like two kids caught doing something bad, we gave ourselves away without directly being accused.

I’ll do whatever Sydney wants for her peace of mind. Once I unplug the lights and plug them back in with the timer, I smile to myself. I don’t want to force her to like Christmas. I just want to find the things about it she can enjoy without being stressed out. It’s clear that something happened around Christmas, because there is no way you go full Scrooge without some sort of event impacting you, and when she’s ready, she’ll tell me. Worse, I think it’s affected more than just her feelings toward Christmas. The general grumpiness she wears comes out when she’s dealing with other people. With me, I see the brightness contained in her that she won’t let anyone else experience. I’m grateful she lets me bathe in the warmth whenever we’re together, but I can’t help but think about how much she would glow if she wasn’t holding herself back.

I walk into the apartment and it feels so natural, like coming home after a long day. I never felt at home in Carmen’s place. Here, I know Sydney stocks my favorite beer and will actually be happy to see me when I walk in the door after a shift.

Sydney got changed while I was outside, since now the oven and her heat are running and the room is rather warm. She’s wearing possibly the shortest shorts I’ve seen and an old Sips t-shirt.

“I wasn’t sure when you would be in so I didn’t make you hot chocolate, but the kettle is already warmed.”

Her oven beeps, letting me know that it’s preheated. “What do you say to making some cookies today?”

She drops her phone on the counter and runs over to me with a big smile on her face. For someone who is anti doing all this Christmas stuff, she’s in a good mood. She jumps into my arms and I barely catch her in time, dropping my coat on the ground.

“I say that sounds yummy.” She licks her lips before a quick, forceful kiss. “Thank you for putting up my lights.”

I’m afraid to startle her like she’s a wild animal. What do I say to her? Do I bring more attention to it? Do I ignore it?

“Anytime.”

She lets go of me and I’m forced to release her, even though I want nothing more than to keep holding her. I swat at her ass as she bounds back toward the kitchen.

Together, we grab all the ingredients I bought today for snickerdoodles and get started mixing them. I’m surprised when she drags out a brand new stand mixer that’s unused.

“Where have you been hiding this?” I ask, plugging it in.

“Right where you saw me drag it out from. I don’t really bake.”

I kiss her forehead when I stand up. “Today, you’re going to be a baker.”

They’re my mom’s favorite cookies to make and I’ve been making them with her since I was a kid. At this point it’s muscle memory. Sydney swats at my hand whenever I grab a new spoon to steal some of the dough, and I can see us doing this together for years to come in a bigger house with our kids running around, sneaking batter themselves.

I set the dough in the fridge to chill before rolling the cookies, and when I turn around, she’s bent over, grabbing the baking trays. It’s indecent how hard she gets me in a fraction of a second, and while we probably should clean up, I have a better idea. I sneak up behind Sydney and press her into the counter.

“What are you doing?” she asks with a giggle when my mouth meets the crook of her neck. She tries to squeeze me out bringing her shoulder to her ear, but it’s too late. I’m already kissing and tickling her as I grind my erection into her ass.

“We have some time before the dough will be workable,” I murmur between kisses. My hands rest on her hips, but they’re restless with the need to be skin to skin so I shift them so I can feel her warmth directly. I can’t stay still as I suck on her neck, alternating nipping and kissing while I grind my dick into her. She’s going soft and pliant in my embrace, gripping the counter as my hand moves up to find she’s not wearing a bra under this shirt and then down into her shorts. My hand on her breast rolls the nipple between it, working it into a hardened point I can pinch more easily. As much as I want to see if she’s already wet for me, I’m having too much fun working us both up.

My fingers glide over the satin of her underwear right at the apex of her thighs. Her legs shift a little so she can open for me, practically begging me to enter her, and I want to. I will, but I know we’re in clear view of the street.

“You’ve been so good today,” I murmur to her, unable to believe the lust dripping in my voice.

“Mhm, I have,” she confirms breathlessly. Her hips start to rock so she can get more friction on my hand, but she’s also stroking my cock with each little movement and my control is slipping.

“Want to be a good girl for me one more time today?” I ask, but I realize I’m fucking panting in her ear as my hips start to move to meet hers. Fuck.

“I always want to be a good girl, Officer.” She nearly yelps that last word because I pinch her nipple as soon as she started it. It’s the last touch I give her before taking my hands off her and stepping back so she has room again.

“Then I’m going to march that gorgeous ass to the bedroom, so I can have the lunch you so rudely deprived me of.”

She casts an outraged look over her shoulder at me, and I smack her ass again.

“Are you resisting orders, Miss?”

Her gaze shifts into a sultry look. “No, sir, but you’ll have to catch me.”

She takes off down the hall. We can play chasing games another time. I haven’t tasted my woman since last night. My steps are measured and sure as I walk toward her bedroom.

She’s lying on her bed in the red negligee I got her and a thong, her fingertips playing with her nipples over the sheer fabric. She looks better in it than I ever dreamed. “I didn’t want your lunch to get cold.” It’s another falsely sweet voice accompanied by big doe eyes.

“Much appreciated.” I take my clothes off as I move closer to her until I’m at the foot of the bed with my cock in hand. She’s trying to keep her attention on my face, but I see how it lowers every so often to where I’m stroking myself. “Care to give me a sneak peek of what’s on the menu?”

One of her hands lazily drifts down her body until she places a finger between the weak fabric and the sensitive skin at her hip, teasing me as it moves lower and lower to her pussy. I can see a small dark spot on the fabric from how wet she is. She’s barely shown me my prize when I drop to my knees so I can be closer and touch her myself.

My hand fits around the small patch of fabric and I yank it off, snapping the straps when I do.

“That was fucking hot,” she says, her hand reaching to stroke between her legs, but I nudge her hand away so I can take my reward .

I hover, just letting her feel my hot breath against her until she’s squirming. That’s when I press the flat of my tongue against her clit, swirling it until I suck the whole thing into my mouth. Ever since that first night, I can’t get enough of having my face between her thighs. I love fucking her and the feel of her when she comes around my cock, but the orgasm hits differently when it’s my mouth on her.

Her hips are restless, moving against my face as she seeks her desperately-needed release. My body is moving much in the same way as I fist my cock. If I keep this up, I’m going to make a mess of her clean sheets.

I lick and suck at her, knowing just what she’s looking for to get off, and I keep her there, hovering just on the edge until I don’t think she can take another second more. I press the tip of my finger to her core, letting it enter her as she rolls her hips.

“That, please, fuck, Dennis, please. I need you to finger-fuck me, or just fuck, me, but please, for the love of everything, let me come.”

What man can deny his woman after that impassioned plea? I slide two fingers inside her and she goes off like a rocket with a low, guttural moan. Her pussy tightens around my fingers like a vise, and I can imagine for a second that it’s my cock she’s tightening around. I nearly flinch back when I feel her release hit my face, but I stay right where I am, letting her grind against my face. It doesn’t stop my hips from moving. My balls draw up right as my own release starts just as she stills.

I shift up and over her so when I cum, I do it all over her belly. She watches me with a dazed expression, propped up on her elbows until I’m done, panting over her. I don’t know what I think she’s going to do next, but grabbing my face and willing me down onto her so we’re kissing while we get sticky and covered in each other was not it .

But I’m not complaining. I won’t complain while Sydney is in my arms.

After another shower, and stripping the bed again, the cookies are finally in the oven and dinner is ordered. I’m playing Christmas music over my phone, and I snuck a yule log broadcast on the TV. Sydney is sitting on the kitchen counter, her legs swaying side to side as she eats the extra dough we made for snacking on. I’m standing right in front of her, my hands on her bare thighs.

“I mean, where would I even put a Christmas tree in this place?” Her gaze is scanning the living room but I know the perfect spot for it already.

“We could find a spot,” I offer tentatively.

She shoves another little clump into her mouth as she studies the living room. “Yeah, I think we could.”