Bestselling author S.B. Alexander writes young adult and new adult romances that span the sub-categories of coming of age, sports, paranormal, suspense, and military fiction. Her writing is emotional, angsty, and character driven. She’s best known for The Maxwell and The Maxwell Family Saga series.
S.B. or Susan as she likes to be called is a navy veteran, former high school teacher, and former corporate sales executive. She’s a lover of sports, especially baseball, although nowadays you can find her glued to the TV during football season.
When she’s not writing, she’s a full-time caregiver to her soul mate of twenty-one years who got a bad deal in life when he was diagnosed with ALS. Her motto: “Life is too short to waste. So live every moment like it’s your last.”
First Christmas
A Rosewood High Short Story
Tracy Lorraine
Chapter One
Jake
“Go on, you do it first,” I say, holding out the set of keys before us.
“No, you do it.” Her wide, excited blue eyes stare into mine, and like always, something in my chest flutters.
A smile curls at my lips as I reach for her.
Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her into my body and drop a kiss to her head.
“Have I told you how fucking incredible you are?”
“Once or twice.” She laughs and the sound makes my heart sing.
I never cared about making anyone else happy before. All I cared about was winning the game and leaving Rosewood for good as fast as I could.
Then everything changed.
“Let’s do it together.”
Amalie wraps her hand around mine holding the key and together we move for the lock.
I laugh as we push it in, but there’s nothing amusing about this moment, it’s just fucking unbelievable.
How did the asshole from the damp and shitty trailer end up standing with the keys to a brand-new duplex in his hand?
My guardian fucking angel, that’s how.
We turn the lock and our front door opens for the very first time, allowing us to step into our new home.
When Amalie first brought up the idea of her buying a house, I thought she was crazy. We’re in high school. Kids in high school don’t buy houses. But then I remembered what brought her here, and suddenly things didn’t seem so insane. And hell knows I would do pretty much anything to get away from that fucking trailer that I’ve been forced to call home for too long.
I’d been living my own life for years. Cooking, cleaning, doing all the domesticated shit alone. The thought of doing it with someone else—with my girl—sounded fucking incredible.
Waking up to her every morning, falling asleep beside her every night. Being able to do whatever whenever the fuck we wanted.
Parties, quiet nights in, date nights, game nights… the list was endless, and it wasn’t long until I was totally on board with the idea.
That was until she started showing me some options. The money she was suggesting she spend on our place was more than I could even compute.
I’ve always had nothing. I make a little money where I can, some of which has been less than legal over the years, seeing as my family has basically disowned me. My bitch of a mother sure as shit didn’t do anything to ensure I had what I needed to survive. I’ve looked out for myself for longer than I care to admit. It’s the way I like it, so suddenly having Amalie offering to drop all this money on a place for us to live didn’t sit well with me.
But, as ever, she has her little ways to make me see things her way. Mostly her ways involve her body and I soon found myself agreeing as long as my name went nowhere near the deeds.
She might be buying this place for us to live in, but there was no way I wanted to be to be seen in any way as only wanting her because of her money. I couldn’t give a shit about her money. The only thing I wanted was her. I’d live in that shitty trailer for as long as necessary, as long as I had her by my side.
With my hand at the small of her back, I gently push her forward to enter first.
We’ve been in here a handful of times since we first viewed it a few months ago, but walking in knowing that it’s ours—or hers—it feels different, better, even more exciting.
“I can’t believe it’s all ours at last,” she squeals as I follow her down the hall toward the kitchen.
Together we walk in and out of each empty room before she comes to a stop in the middle of the master bedroom where she drops her purse.
Walking up to her, I slip my hands around her waist and press her body against mine.
Her eyes sparkle with delight as she stares at me.
“Happy?” I ask, brushing the tip of my nose against hers.
“So happy. We have a freaking house, Jake. A. House,” she repeats as if she needs the reminder that this is real.
“Hmmm… a house all to ourselves. Which room shall we christen first?” I ask, brushing my lips against hers. She shudders in my hold and tilts her head to get more, but I keep enough space so she can’t take what she needs.
“Jake,” she whines, but her eyes darken with desire. She loves my games.
“We’ll need to be creative with no furniture,” I muse. “I could lie in the middle of the floor and let you take the lead. Or, you could place your palms against the wall and I could fuck you from behind. Take you hard and fast, ensure our new neighbors know that we’ve arrived.”
“Oh god,” she whimpers as I slip my hand inside her shirt, finding the hot, smooth skin of her waist and pushing higher.
“How long do you think we’ve got? Ten minutes? Less?” My hand cups her breasts and I squeeze gently.
“L-less. G-Gran has already left and—” she gasps, losing her words when I slip the cup of her bra down and pinch her nipple.
“I guess we’d better go for the second option then. We both know how you like to draw out riding me as long as possible.”
Her cheeks blush and it only makes my cock harder.
Giving in to my need for her, I crash my lips down on hers as I slide her denim skirt up her thighs until it’s around her waist. She made the perfect wardrobe choice this morning, almost as if she could see into the future.
My fingers dive into the lace covering her and after parting her, I find her slick and ready for me.
“You like listening to me telling you how I’m going to fuck you, don’t you, Brit?”
“Oh god,” she cries as I circle her clit.
“That’s it, baby. There’s no one to hear you now,” I whisper, thinking of all the times we’ve had to remain silent while in her gran’s bungalow.
Pushing farther back, I find her entrance and push two fingers inside her.
“So fucking tight,” I mutter, dropping my other hand to my waistband and opening the button. “Now, put your hands flat on the wall and stick your ass out.”
The second I release her, she does exactly as she’s told.
Shoving the fabric of my pants and boxer briefs down my thighs, I take my length in hand as she watches me over her shoulder.
“Jake,” she warns as she stands there fully exposed to me aside from the small scrap of lace covering her.