9. Jasper

Jasper

I ’m not sure what game Mitch is playing, but I’m losing. The last thing I want is to spend quality time with the candy cane princess. As I make my way back to the shop, she’s waiting at the entry, leaning against the door jam, looking smug as hell. I shoulder past her without a second glance.

Busying myself with tidying up merchandise that's already immaculately displayed, she hesitantly places a hand on my shoulder, making me still. “I texted Axl. He said he’s going to put the word out as soon as the coffee cart is secured. What do you think? Is there anything else I can help with?”

“I’m thinking this isn’t going to work,” I grumble, turning to face her. “My family has owned this farm for generations. If this all of this fails, I’ll have to close it. It isn’t only the farm failing, it’s…” I swallow hard. “Me.”

Amy lifts her chin and smiles. “Then, we won’t let any of it fail. As much as I love the masculine feel of the displays, we need to make it a bit more festive. You’re a tree farm and don’t have your own tree! Do you have decorations?”

After a deep breath, I take her hand and drag her out to the lot where my pre-cut trees are prepped and turn the Open sign to Closed as we go. It’s unlikely someone would come by; we haven’t seen a soul in nearly two hours and can afford to indulge the princess’s little project for half an hour

Ignoring how much I enjoy having her fingers laced with mine, I gesture to the Frasier firs and a few of the Scottish pine. “Choose from those. They make less of a mess.”

“What if I want to make a mess?” she teases with a wide smile that meets her eyes.

“You’re trouble, sweetheart.” Quickly pulling my hand back, I take a step away from her. “Pick a tree so we can be done with this.”

Amy takes a careful step towards me, closing the distance again. Toe-to-toe and with eyes narrowed, time slows to a crawl. “I’m trying to help.”

“Trying to help?” I scoff. “Bullshit.”

“You don’t know me. I like Mitch, and Mitch wants to help you. Therefore, I want to help you. Let me.”

A gust of winter air whips her hair, and I instinctively brush her blonde locks out of her face. This woman has Mitch under her spell, and if I’m not careful, I’ll be right there with him. “Pick out a tree, and I’ll show you where the decorations are.”

Amy nods, then disappears into the trees in search of the perfect one. After a few minutes, she hollers, “Found it,” and I follow the sound. I can’t help smiling; she’s settled on my favourite eight-foot Scotch pine I prepared earlier this morning. I haul it into the house and lead her up to my bedroom above the shop to retrieve the decorations.

“Everything is right in here.” I open the door to my room, allowing her to enter first. “It’s in the closet.” As I walk the rest of the way in, I take off my hat and leave it on my dresser, raking my hands through my hair. I make my way to the closet and pull a large cardboard box from the top shelf labelled “Christmas Shit,” and drop it next to the bed. “There should be lights, ornaments, and”—Amy pulls out a bundle of red jute—“ restraints .” I quickly clear my throat. “I mean rope , for… hanging the wreaths.”

She bites her lip and leans back onto her hands, giving me a glorious view of her tits. Even through her sweatshirt, they’re fucking perfection. Her nipples are peaked, begging me to take them between my teeth— or is that just my cock wishing she’s as turned on as I am?

“Why would you need rope to hang up a wreath? Wouldn’t you use one of the sticky hooks? Or a large one that you hang from the top of the door?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I reach for it, but she stops me. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Mind if I keep it? I doubt Mitch is into tying up wreaths , but he might want to tie me up later.”

Trouble doesn’t begin to describe Amy. I attempt to take the rope from Amy again and lose my footing, falling into her. I’m unsure if I should count this as having the best or worst fucking luck in the world—I’ll go with the worst .

Amy wraps her legs around me, and with our lips a breath apart, she whispers, “Tie me up, Jasper. You know you want to.”

Mitch will never forgive me for what I’m about to do...

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re asking for.” I grid my cock against Amy’s cunt, eliciting a feral moan from her. We’re wearing several layers of clothes; so many opportunities for either of us to stop this from happening. “You think you want me to tie you up? You want to be used as I fill all of your holes? You’ll feel me everywhere for days. Baby, I’ll make you come over and over, until you're begging me for a break. Except, we both know I won’t stop. I’ll brand each and every inch of you as mine before I do.”

“Do your worst, cowboy.”

Without a second thought, I mutter, “Fuck it,” and crash my lips into hers.