The 25 Men of Christmas by Cassie James & Christine Kelsey & B C Morgan

Author:Cassie James & Christine Kelsey & B C Morgan [James, Cassie & Kelsey, Christine & Morgan, B C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Six

Victor

“Don’t you have to pay for that somewhere or something?”

I finish tying the tree off before I look at her. “What? No, of course not.” I’ve never paid for a tree and I don’t plan to start now.

She shifts nervously from foot to foot but then freezes up—probably because she’s just reminded herself of the clamps latched onto those perfect, pink nipples of hers. The bulky sweater hides them completely from view, but the mental image is burned into my brain forever now.

I start to grab the tree so we can haul it back to the truck but Gemma’s voice makes me stall out.

“So you’re just going to steal it?” she asks with serious attitude, popping her hands on her hips and everything. Using a tone like that, there’s nothing I’d like more than to haul her over my lap and give her one hell of a spanking. But we’re probably best saving that for another day.

“I’m not stealing it, I’m—”

“Vicky!”

Fuck.

Mom bursts through the tree-line with Dad ambling behind her a good thirty seconds later, always more content to take his time. Dread settles in my stomach. I chose to forgo introducing Gemma to my son for fear of scaring her off, and now here she is, about to meet my parents.

My obnoxiously friendly parents.

Gemma’s eyes go wide as she looks from me to my parents. I start to laugh until she elbows me in the gut.

“Victor, I’m wearing nipple clamps.”

“No one can tell,” I reassure her, sparing her tits another quick glance as if I’m making sure—but really I just like the excuse to look at her tits.

The way my mom clears her throat as she gets close, she definitely fucking caught me looking. Not that it seems to bother her too much since she’s still all smiles as she greets Gemma with a warm smile.

I breathe a small sigh of relief that she doesn’t go in for a hug. I’m not so sure Gemma’s secret would be safe if she had to go chest-to-chest with my mom.

Ugh.

I don’t want to think about my mom touching my girlfriend.

Shit. Is Gemma my girlfriend now? Am I allowed to call her that? What the hell do I say if my mom asks—and there’s a good chance she will?

Sudden panic nearly sweeps me off my feet. My mom, always with the parental intuition, spares a knowing glance in my direction before giving Gemma her full attention again.

“It’s nice to see someone out here in the fields besides us old folks. How do you know our Vicky?”

“Don’t be dense, Sherry. She’s that pretty little thing that’s always hanging out along the sidelines at games.”

The dismissive way Dad says it—as if Gemma’s nothing more than decor on the side of the field—raises my hackles. She’s not some trollop jersey-chaser waiting around for one of the players to notice her.

No, she’s the kind of woman we’ve always noticed—and not because she’s had to try.

To Dad, I snap, “She’s the team athletic trainer. She’s on the sidelines doing her job.

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