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that her head bobs from the impact, that the lights shimmer and shake and I feel like I’m fucking a bloody supernova.
    It gets messy – hot chocolate and silver tinsel everywhere. It gets hot.
    It gets harder, deeper, stronger.
    I fuck her like I’ll never see her again, have her again. I fuck her like I’m trying to leave a part of me inside her, one she’ll never lose, no matter how hard she might try.
    I fuck her until I’m coming hot and loud, the lights in my eyes, my cum shooting inside her, pumping out every last bit of me and she calls out my name and I call out hers.
    We come together, as one, always one.
    And when I have nothing left to give, I kiss up the mess of her back, her neck, her cheek as she turns her head and offers it to me. We’re both breathing hard.
    We’re both such a mess.
    And so bloody meant for each other.
     
     
    CHAPTER THREE
    Kayla
     
    I wake up covered in tinsel.
    Like, I know I’m totally naked, but I still resemble the tin man thanks to fragments of the stuff sticking to every inch of me. Shine a spotlight on me, spin me around, and I’m a veritable disco ball.
    Jesus. Who knew Christmas could get so kinky? Though I suppose it was my idea for him to decorate me like a Christmas tree.
    And my idea had worked, too. I could tell when he came home yesterday from meeting Brigs that he was having a tough go. It totally didn’t help that bringing up Brigs led me into my own downward spiral of sorrow, sadness, and shame. I know I’m adding extra weight on Lachlan when I really don’t want to. I want to be strong, I want to handle everything by myself. I want to make my mother proud, to fight through the grief on my own.
    But fuck, it’s hard. Lachlan’s been so patient even though he’s battling his own problems.
    So I decided that maybe I needed to distract him more. Hell, let’s be honest here, this is about distracting myself, too. If I’m not grieving my mother and fretting over my move here, I’m worrying about Lachlan or the job I badly want to get (which I should hear about any day now). And while our sex life doesn’t need any improvement, the more we do it, the clearer our heads and hearts get. At least it seems to do that for me.
    “Baby?” I call out, easing myself up in bed.
    “Yup,” I hear him say from the other room, and I sigh in relief. He pops his head into the bedroom, cup of coffee in hand, and eyes me, biting his lip with a smile.
    “We made quite a mess,” he says, coming forward and handing me the cup of coffee. “Here, I just poured it. I’ll make myself another.”
    Before I can protest, he’s leaving the room. I take a sip of the coffee then smile down at my silver self. I don’t even have the decency to cover myself up. I’d walk around naked all the time if I could.
    When he comes in with another cup for himself, I ask him, “Did you already go boxing?”
    “Actually, no,” he says, sitting on the corner of the bed. “Was feeling too lazy. Slept in for a bit and took the dogs for a walk. Was planning on going later. Did you want to come?”
    I’ve never seen Lachlan box. I’ve been to rugby practices twice now since coming back, but he usually goes to boxing so early that I’ve never had the opportunity, even though he’s invited me more than a few times.
    “I’d love to,” I tell him. “Do I get to fight you?”
    He grins. It lights up his whole face, making him look boyish. “If you want. Or you can just watch, though I’m not sure how entertaining it will be for you. It’s basically me sparring with Jake, my trainer, or taking it out on the bag.” His eyes skirt over my body. “Did you want some help in getting that all off?”
    “I wouldn’t mind getting a good scrub down,” I admit, straightening my leg and running my toe down the side of his thigh, an attempt at seduction. “Turns out cum and chocolate and tinsel create some kind of super paste.”
    “Who would have thought?”
    We both finish our coffees in