Christmas Eve
Rip was exhausted. It was late, and he knew he needed to just go to bed, but he was so tired that the thought of getting up off the couch exhausted him further. So he sat there, in front of the fire, a half-full glass of whiskey perched dangerously on his knee. He was replaying the events of his day in his head, just to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
The ranch had been expecting a snowstorm to hit just as midnight rolled around, and they had done so much to prepare the cattle for the impending storm. Part of the day was spent pushing the herd from one pasture to another, making sure it had some wooded areas to shelter in during the storm, then they worked on repairing some old windbreaks and a few spots of the fence. They also laid down a ton of hay and extra feed to get the cattle through the bitter temperatures. Organizing all of that in his head was a challenge, and he surprised himself by enjoying it. Being foreman wasn't easy, but he thought that with practice, he'd be pretty damn good at it.
After the long day, the wranglers were treated to one hell of a Christmas dinner - ham and turkey, mounds of fluffy potatoes and casserole after casserole, rolls dripping with butter. And that was before all the pies and cookies arrived. They had eaten until they were mostly comatose, but then the whiskey started to get passed around. One of the guys brought in a sad-looking Christmas tree and they all started drunkenly trimming it with whatever they had in the bunkhouse - bits of rope ringing it like garland, torn beer cans twisted to resemble ornaments. Someone had even popped some popcorn and was trying to string it. Rip hung around for a little while, but it was a little too noisy so he told them to go to bed and left before the snow started to get too deep for the walk to his cabin.
So that's where he found himself now - sitting on his couch in the foreman's cabin, lit only by the fire in the hearth, whiskey in hand, missing everyone late on Christmas Eve night. When he was a boy, Christmas wasn't really something to celebrate - they were too poor for presents and trees and things, but at least they had been together. He missed Beth, too - this was his first Christmas at the ranch without her, and if he had to admit it, it hurt not having her here.
Rip had just tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, almost drifting off to sleep, when headlights swept across his front room window, illuminating it suddenly. His heart started to pound and adrenaline shot through his veins. No one should be on the ranch this late at night - especially on Christmas. Instantly on high alert, he jumped to his feet, glad that the lights were off and whoever it was outside couldn't see in. He crept towards the front door, silently reaching up to take his rifle off its perch.
A trio of knocks sounded on the door. Rip's hand went to the knob and was twisting it open when her voice rang out, clear as a bell.
"Goddammit, Rip, let me in! It's fucking freezing out here!"
Rip threw the door open and stood there, dumbfounded, with the gun in his hand. His mouth was agape and he exclaimed, "Beth!"
She stood there on the stoop, smiling at him as the wind swirled around her. "Surprise!" Her eyes skirted to the gun and she looked startled. "Jesus, were ya gonna shoot me? Merry Christmas to you, too." She stepped inside, pushing her way past him into the house.
Snow blew in after her, the ice-cold wind hitting him square in the face. Snowflakes fluttered around her as she stood in the entryway, landing in her hair and on her coat. He caught himself staring and quickly closed the door against the cold, reaching up to put the rifle back in its place. Beth stared back, waiting for him to say something, anything. She shook out her windblown hair and eyed him expectantly. When all he did was look back at her, she breathed a laugh and went to untie her coat.
"Say something, Rip," she said as she shot him a dazzling smile, proud of herself for literally stunning him into silence.
She was dressed in all black - a black wool coat over an expensive-looking sweater dress that was so tight it left nothing to the imagination. Rip could see every curve of her shapely body and he longed to touch her, curious if the material was as soft as it looked. Shiny boots with sky-high heels peeked out below her dress, and he wondered idly how far they went up. She was shrugging out her coat as his eyes raked her up and down, tossing her head and hair again so it rested over one shoulder.
Not knowing what to say or do, he closed the space between them in two quick steps and pulled her to him, his arm curling around her waist. Her face tipped up to his, expecting him to kiss her in welcome, but he just stared down at her, his eyes a turbulent sky blue. Beth sighed and wrapped her arms around him as he continued to gaze down at her. His arm tightened around her waist as he reached up and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.
"Merry Christmas," Rip whispered, leaning down to brush his lips gently against hers.
Beth's body instinctively leaned into his, sagging slightly as the relief of being in his arms washed over her. She had been traveling all goddamn day, just to get here early to surprise him. She knew he'd be here in the foreman's cabin, all alone on Christmas Eve, and she just couldn't get it out of her head. She had already planned to come home after Christmas to see her father, but she found herself at LAX early that morning, ready to do battle with each and every ticket agent to make sure she was in Montana by the time Christmas rolled around. She smiled, she flirted, she cajoled; until finally she was on a flight to Portland with a connection to Bozeman. By the time her twice-delayed flight to Montana had departed, it was already flurrying at her destination. She took the last car at the rental place and had driven as fast as the conditions had allowed to the ranch. Her heart had nearly beat out of her chest when she had parked in front of the cabin, nearly giddy with the idea of surprising him.
Now she was here, in his arms - the only place that really and truly felt like home to her. Their kiss deepened and she breathed into him, feeling his hands wander to her hips, stroking gently. Reluctantly, she pulled away and watched him, his eyes downcast and focusing on his hands that were stroking the soft material of her dress. She laughed softly and reached up to gently tug at his beard.
"You like it?"
Rip nodded, seemingly hypnotized by the feel of it and her in his arms. "It's so soft…" he trailed off and looked back up at her. "I'm glad you're here." His arms tightened around her and pulled her closer so she could rest her cheek on his chest. Her eyes drifted closed and she felt herself go boneless in his arms.
After a few quiet moments, Beth broke the silence by whispering, "Don't tell anyone I'm here - I wasn't supposed to get in until day after tomorrow." She felt the rumble of Rip's chuckle against her cheek and it made her smile.
"So many secrets," he whispered back as he reached up to stroke her hair. She hummed in agreement and tightened her grip around him, burrowing her face into his t-shirt. Rip tugged on a lock of her hair and twirled it around his finger. "I can keep a secret."
Beth looked up at him and smiled a brilliant smile, and he winked at her. "It's supposed to snow all night anyway, and the boys can take care of chores tomorrow," he continued as he guided her towards the couch. "I could use the company on Christmas." He sat down and pulled her down with him, making her squeak in surprise as she landed on his lap. She sat sideways in his lap, her long, boot-clad legs crossed in front of her on the cushions. Leaning over to take Rip's glass of whiskey off the table, she took a sip and ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.
"This is nice," she said softly, leaning her head onto his shoulder. He took the glass from her and took a sip of his own as she started to place soft, tiny kisses on his neck. He set the glass back down and ran a hand up her leg starting at her boots, and slipped it under her skirt. He could feel the lace top of a stocking underneath her dress, and his cock twitched in his pants. Beth heard him groan softly and she smiled against him, turning slightly so he could slide his hand higher.
Beth loved the ease of how they could just fall together after months of not seeing each other. She couldn't think of a better place to be - in Rip's arms in front of this fire, sipping his whiskey, surrounded by a snowstorm; especially on Christmas. She felt his hand move higher up on her leg, gripping her bare ass cheek, and this time she groaned. She turned her head towards his and kissed him urgently, wrapping her arms around his neck.
They sat there for a long while, making out like teenagers until the fire started to die. It was nearly pitch black in the cabin, and they could see the snow starting to pile up outside, the light flurries changing to a driving, swirling snowstorm. Rip reluctantly pulled away from Beth's cozy embrace to get up and stoke the fire, leaving her sprawled attractively across his couch. He paused a minute to admire her dishevelment - her tousled hair, her dress pushed up high enough to reveal the black lace-topped stockings underneath and a hint of the black lace underwear at the apex of her thighs. Her creamy skin seemed to glow in the light of the dying fire, and he had to adjust the front of his pants before he bent down to throw another log into the fireplace.
Beth watched him as he looked at her, thinking that her decision to come home early to see him was the best decision she had made in a long time. No one would bother them tomorrow, what with the snow and the holiday. She could hide here and no one would be none the wiser until she showed up at the lodge the day after Christmas.
The fire reignited, Rip stood and strode over to where she was still reclining and offered her a hand. "Want a tour?" Beth laughed and sat up.
"Is that the polite way to get me to your bedroom?" She swung her legs over the side of the couch and moved to stand. She started to push her dress back down over her hips when Rip stopped her by quickly capturing her wrist.
"Nope, that stays like it is," he said as his lips twisted into a wicked grin. Beth grinned back and decided to up the ante a bit.
"Well, if we're going to play that game…" She trailed off and reached down, pulled the dress up and over her head, and tossed it onto the couch. She stood there in the firelight, her pale skin in beautiful contrast to her lacy black bra and panties, her hand on her hip. Rip groaned and reached for her, rendered speechless by the way she wielded the weapon of her sexuality.
His fingertips made contact with her outer thigh, her soft skin yielding to his touch, and she stepped towards him, reaching for his other hand. He let her lead him towards the staircase that led up to his loft bedroom, watching as she walked slowly with their fingers intertwined.
Beth leisurely ascended the stairs, swaying her hips with each step, and his cock throbbed. She was doing this on purpose, and he was loving every second of it. And if he had to be honest, those boots in particular were killing him.
The loft was bathed in the warm, dim light of the fire downstairs. Beth cast her eyes around the room, taking in the simple furniture, the well-loved quilt on the bed, and a dog-eared paperback on the nightstand. She turned to him and smiled, running her hands along the soft fabric of his long-sleeved t-shirt. It was snug and hugged every curve of muscle on his upper body, and it made her feel…things. Rip's body was warm under her fingertips as they danced down his chest and down to his waist. She tugged the shirt up out of his waistband and placed her hands flat against his stomach, relishing the heat of his skin. Her breath stuttered slightly, and she felt his hands that were on her hips tighten. Suddenly, she needed him, now.
Like he could sense her urgency, Rip turned them so he could sit down on the bed, pulling her down on top to straddle him. Beth leaned down and crashed her lips to his, their tongues swirling together frantically, her passion ratcheting up to a fever pitch. She ran her fingers through his dark curls while Rip's hands rocked her hips over the aching bulge in his jeans so he could feel the heat from her center against him.
Beth could feel how hard he was and she moaned softly into their kiss. Not wanting to pull away but needing to, she broke their kiss and tightened her grip on his hair so his eyes met hers. "I want you," she whispered against his lips, grinding her hips down harder against him. Rip breathed a groan and reached up to unclasp her bra, freeing her breasts from the soft black lace. "I need you inside me. Now."
Beth slid her hand between them and unbuttoned his jeans, reaching in to pull out his cock. Rip had taken a nipple between his lips and she felt him moan against her as she tightened her grip and stroked him from base to tip. His hands were busy trying to push her panties aside, and she guided him inside her, gasping as he pushed all the way in.
They both exhaled together, the relief of it palpable between them. Rip leaned back onto his hands and watched her as she started to move over him, bracing herself on his shoulders. She was so warm and wet, all around him, and his head was swimming with the sensation. "God, you are so wet," he groaned as he reached up to palm a breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "You feel so good."
Beth's eyes were closed and her head tossed back, concentration plain on her face. She had needed this for months - a good, proper fucking. Los Angeles was full of manicured pretty boys who were always good for a lay, but nothing could compare to the feel of Rip's calloused hands on her body and the smell of fresh air and sunlight that clung to his skin. Her hips started to move quicker, feeling the pressure of her orgasm building in the pit of her stomach, and she leaned down to kiss him again.
Rip could feel the way she was fluttering around him as she rode him, and knew she was close. He leaned up and hooked his arms up and over her shoulders, and started to thrust up into her. He was rewarded with a loud gasp that morphed into a long moan, and she gripped his shoulders harder. "More," she murmured. "Harder." He smiled at her and obliged.
With each forceful thrust up into her, Beth's clit grazed the base of his cock, and soon she was flying, her orgasm crashing through her in wave after wave. Her intense grip inside was just too much for him and Rip followed her climax with his own and their lips met breathlessly as they came down together.
They both collapsed back onto the bed, Beth still on top, but feeling him start to slowly soften inside her. She rolled off him and to his side, propping her head up on her hand. She started to giggle as she realized that he was still completely dressed, and she was still wearing her boots.
Rip looked over at her with glassy eyes, trying to focus on her face. "Hmm? What's so funny?" Beth dropped her head to his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek.
"Nothing," she whispered back and nuzzled closer to him, hitching a leg up and hooking it around his thigh. Rip hummed in appreciation as his hand stroked the shiny black leather of her boot.
"These are amazing," he said softly as he continued to run his hand up and down her leg. "I hope these were for me." Beth giggled again and nipped his earlobe, her hand wandering down to where his cock was starting to stir again. God bless this man.
"Of course they're for you," she said and moved closer so he could kiss her again.
Rip looked at her, her clear green eyes sparkling in the fading light of the fire downstairs, and cupped the back of her head. Before he moved in to press his lips against hers, he smiled sweetly and said, "Well, merry Christmas to me."