Page 91 of Christmas with Three Firemen

She starts moving in deep, rolling hips. I kneel beside them. She turns her head and takes me into her mouth without hesitation. Wes stays close on her other side, one hand stroking her back, the other reaching between her and Grant to rub her clit in slow circles.

The room stays quiet except for soft sounds and breathing. No one is rushing toward anything. We just move together in the warm dim light, unhurried and certain.

I run my fingers through her hair while she takes me deeper.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” I murmur. “Just like this. All of us here.”

She looks up at me for a second, eyes soft, and keeps going.

She keeps riding Grant in those same deep, unhurried rolls. I stay close enough that she can take me into her mouth whenever she wants. Wes stays on her other side, his fingers still moving slowly between her and Grant.

“That’s it,” I say against her hair. “Just like that. You feel so good.”

She makes a soft sound around me and keeps moving. Grant’s hands stay on her hips, steady but not demanding. Every now and then he lifts his head and kisses whatever part of her he can reach — her collarbone, the side of her breast, her jaw.

After a while she pulls away from me and turns toward Wes instead. He shifts closer without a word. She takes him into her mouth slowly while I lean down and press open-mouthed kisses along her spine.

“You’re perfect like this,” I tell her quietly. “All of us here. Nothing else matters.”

Grant’s voice is low and rough underneath her. “Stay with us.”

She does. She keeps moving between the three of us, unhurried, fully present. The pleasure builds in long, slow waves. No one is chasing it. We just let it happen.

When she starts to tighten around Grant, I feel it. Her breathing changes. Her hand finds mine and squeezes hard.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper.

She comes with a soft, broken sound against Wes, her whole body shaking between us. Grant holds her through it and follows right after, burying his face against her neck as he finishes.

I pull out of her mouth just long enough to stroke myself a few times. She looks up at me, still breathing hard, and takes me back in. That’s all it takes. I come with a low groan, one hand in her hair, the other still holding hers.

Wes lasts only a little longer. She stays with him until he comes too, swallowing quietly, then rests her forehead against his stomach and just breathes.

We rearrange ourselves slowly afterward. Noelle ends up in the middle of the bed with her head on Grant’s chest.

I curl in behind her, one arm draped over her waist, my face pressed to the back of her shoulder. Wes settles on Grant’s other side, close enough that his hand can rest on her hip.

For a long time none of us speak. The only sounds are breathing and the soft brush of snow against the window.

Eventually I press a kiss to her shoulder and smile against her skin.

“This is just our life now,” I say quietly.

Grant’s hand finds mine over her waist and gives a small squeeze. Wes makes a low sound of agreement.

Noelle doesn’t say anything, but she reaches back and links her fingers with mine, holding on.

I close my eyes and stay right there.

Later, after everyone’s gone to bed and the station’s settled, I stand in the kitchen looking at the wreckage of the day.

Pancake batter dried onto the counter. Danny’s mug still sitting where he left it, smug even in absentia. The toy drive boxes stacked against the wall, waiting for their trip out tomorrow.

I wipe down the counter. Turn off the light over the stove. Leave the tree glowing in the common room because nobody in this house has ever once managed to remember to unplug it, and honestly, I don’t want to be the one who starts now.

Two months ago I thought the toughest thing about this Christmas would be keeping the eggnog jug out of the trash before Callum noticed.

Turns out the toughest thing was watching someone learn how to stay, one careful day at a time, and somehow being part of the reason she finally could.