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Authors: Debra Druzy

Tags: #romance,Christmas,small town,spicy

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BOOK: Sleeping With Santa
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“Good girl. Get comfortable.” He eased her back. “See. Not so bad, now, is it?”

“No. Not at all.”

“You sure?” Propped on his elbow, he looked down on her, nose to nose.

Her heart was in a frenzy, and her body was ready to burst into flames. “I’m sure.”

“God. You are so beautiful.” He caressed her cheek. “I’m not just saying that because I wanna do things to you like you can’t even imagine.”

Hot memories of sizing up his manliness while he slept flashed in her mind. “Nick, I…I want to. You know I do. But I don’t want to rush into anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you can’t control everything—especially destiny. You have to let go eventually. I think now’s a good time to start. There are plenty of things we can do with our clothes on.”

His kiss was tender and soft, as their tongues swirled together. It was a good thing she was on her back, because the lightheadedness came on hard and fast as the blood drained away. ”Mmm.”

“Are you okay?”

She struggled to open her heavy lids. “Oh, yeah. Why?”

“You made a noise...I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m fine. Really.” His big body leaning on her ribcage didn’t bother her. She pushed herself up to reach his lips, but he resisted.

“On second thought, maybe we’re better off on the couch after all. Or in the kitchen. Or we maybe we could, uhh, make a snowman, or something.”

“In the middle of the night?” She chuckled at his sudden change of heart.

A grimace crossed his face as he adjusted the crotch of his jeans. “I won’t be able to control myself if we keep doin’ this.”

“Oh, sure you can. I don’t want you to stop kissing me now. Or maybe we can do
other
stuff…like you said.”

“I can’t…I just…” He rubbed a hand down his face and shook his head. “I dunno what I’m doin’ anymore.”

“You don’t have to do
anything
.” She massaged his calf, creeping up his thigh. “Just sit back, relax, and let me do the work.”

He jumped off the bed, scowling. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you think?” She waggled her eyebrows at his inseam.

“I have an idea—let’s bake cookies.”

“Cookies?”
Is that code for blowjob?

“Sure. I think it’s time for a cooking lesson. We’ll indulge in, uh,
sex-education
another time. Don’t take it personally.”

He kissed her forehead and nudged her toward the kitchen, where he tore open the gift basket of baking supplies.

“You’re right. Let’s pace ourselves. Now fetch me some butter, woman.” He gave her a playful slap on the bottom. “And take out the eggs.” He winked, and followed it with a sincere, “Please, if you don’t mind, love.”

His authoritative tone was a turn-on; she did as she was told, concealing a secret smile.

So much for the lesson. Nick did all the work while she watched, daydreaming as she stared at his tush in those well-worn jeans like he was born wearing them.

A short while later he pulled a fragrant tray from the oven.

“Smells yummy.” Her mouth salivated, but not for the chocolate chip cookies as much as the man that made them.

When they finished devouring warm cookies dunked in icy cold milk, Lily rolled up her sleeves, ready to clean.

Nick scooted her aside. “That’s okay. I’ll handle it.”

“No, no, no.” She dragged him to the couch. “You cooked. I’ll clean. Roommates share responsibilities.”

“Don’t give me that
roommate
nonsense.” He tugged her down beside him before she could get away.

“Okay. Fine.” She didn’t want to wash dishes now anyway.

He curled his arm around her and dropped long leisurely kisses along the side of her neck. “I know this might sound like a line, but I’ve never felt like this before. Ever. About anyone.”

“Me, too. I just don’t want to do anything we’ll regret.”

Pulling her hair at the crown, he tilted her head and searched her face. The firelight set off an ethereal glow in his eyes. His lips touched hers, making her melt into him like an ice cream cone in the sun. When his tongue skimmed along her bottom lip inviting her mouth to open, she complied, waiting for it, wanting more of it. More of him.

“I know you wanna wait. And I’m willing to. At least I’m trying to. But I believe the only thing we’d ever regret is not making love.”

The dynamic words pricked her nerves. He was right. What if he wrapped himself around a pole next time he went out in this weather? No doubt, she’d regret letting this moment slip away.

Then his cell phone went off, shattering the mood. Drunk-dialing or emergencies only came at this time of night. He ignored it, while Lily cringed, recognizing the moody ringtone after hearing it enough times.

“Just answer it already! Find out what she wants and be done with it.”

“Hell, no!” He left it at that as he always did, which satisfied Lily since she didn’t want his ex-wife’s interference anyway.

She straddled his lap, seeking his full attention, finding his full arousal.

“What are you doin’?”

“You’re right. I don’t want to live to regret anything.” In her heart of hearts she would never regret making love to this man.

“You know what would be fun?”

“You don’t
seriously
want to make a snowman, do you?”

“Not really,” he laughed. “I was thinking you could put on the outfit you got.” He wore a wicked grin with a naughty twinkle in his eyes.

Heat rose in her cheeks. “Is that so?” She couldn’t hold back the smile or stop the challenging words from falling off her lips. “And what are you gonna do for me?”

He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“How about you put on the Santa suit?”

“Nice try, but no way.”

“Come on, please, do it for me.”

“Santa is an old fat guy. What’s sexy about that?”

She rubbed her flannel-clad breasts against his chest. “Maybe I have a Santa fetish.”

“Maybe you just want me to feel stupid.”

“I’ll do it for you, if you do it for me—”

He rolled her off his lap and dashed outside.

A moment later, he returned with a red sack over his shoulder.

On the way to their respective bedrooms, he gave her tush a love-tap. “Get dressed, sugar. Santa Claus is coming to town early.”

Lily shook the contents of the Violet’s Valise shopping bag onto her bed. The votive tumbled onto the floor and she picked it up. One whiff of the heady balsam fragrance had her pulse pounding as the memory of Nick in the dressing room flooded her mind...The desperation in his eyes. The apology. The kiss. And to think, she nearly gave up on him.

“Ready or not…” Nick warned as she stuffed herself into the slip, forgoing the impossible clasp. She tugged the dress over her head as he knocked. “Here I come!”

The door swung open.

Standing in the hall was a perfect-looking Santa Claus—belly, beard, and all. He adjusted the silver belt buckle and smoothed down the fur trim. “Do I look okay?” Wearing white gloves, he scratched the silver wig under the cap.

Lily bit back a giggle. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I’m just—wow! You look like the real deal. The quintessential St. Nick.”

His twinkling eyes scanned her body with a devilish grin that looked nothing like any Santa-smile she’d ever seen. “Ha ha ha. But this Santa’s no saint.”

“That’s not how it goes. Say it right.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Aww, come on.” She enticed him with a little shimmy in her shoulders. “You oughta practice.”

He shook his head like a stubborn child. “Nope.”

“I won’t let you unwrap your present if you don’t.”

“I’ll do it anyway.” He inched closer, caught her around the waist, and pulled her against his soft foam belly. “You’re one
naughty
little girl. Teasing Santa with these tight clothes and your wicked mouth. Making Santa behave badly. You’re a little
ho-ho-ho,
aren’t you?” He scooped her up as he sat on the bed, placing her on his lap.

“Is that all padding in there?” She poked the spongy area where his rock-hard abs ought to be. “And this beard. It’s so soft. It tickles.” She swatted it away from her neckline.

“Dontcha believe in Santa?” He raised his naturally dark eyebrows—the only telltale sign of Nick underneath, aside from the excited
elf
in his pocket, poking her hip.

“Of course I do.”

“Good. Because only children who believe will
receive
.” His sultry act was nothing like any department store Santa Claus. “So, what do you want for Christmas, little girl?” His words were slow and deliberate, expectant and knowing, and she felt herself go wet between her thighs at the hot innuendo in her ear.

“You really want to know?”

He nodded. His hand rubbed her knee with a cool satin glove. “Tell Santa everything.”

“Well,
Santa
, what I’d really like is a man.”

“Interesting…tell Santa more about this
man
.”

“Does Santa always talk in the third person?”

“Yes, Santa does, always. That’s just the way Santa operates.”

“Well…” She bit her lip in a quick deliberation. “I’d like him to be nice.”

“You know what they say…nice guys finish last. They let the woman finish
first
. Have you been a good girl this year?” His finger tickled the back of her knee.

Lily covered her mouth to hide a wanton whimper.

“Let it out. Santa wants to hear you.”

“Well,
Santa
…” She sucked in a breath. “I’m trying—but it’s hard your hand between my thighs.”

“It’s been a long, cold night. Santa needs to get warm. But if you don’t like it…”

“No.” She clamped her knees together, trapping him. “I like it where it is.”

“That makes Santa very, very happy.” His other hand rubbed the small of her back in a figure eight. “Tell Santa more about this man you want.”

“I’d like him to be smart and sweet. Sincere. Kind. And gentle.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a woman instead? That might be fun for you. And me—since Santa sees you when you’re sleeping…”

“No, thanks. I definitely want a man. Good-looking. Strong. And sexy.” Her cheeks burned as she described her ideal man to his disguised face.

“Okay,” Santa growled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Tall. Dark. Mature. Emotionally available.”


Emotionally available
? Hmm.” He made the thoughtful noise.

“And he has to have a sense of humor. Be a good kisser…” Her voice dropped.

“An emotionally available, mature, good kisser, huh? Something like this?” He leaned in and planted fur-lined lips on her neck, just below her earlobe as his hand slipped up the hem of her dress.

“Mmm…yes, Nick…just like that.”

“Call me Santa…” he panted, as he shifted their position so her back was against the mattress.

“No, that’s silly.”

“Just do it for me.” It was Nick’s voice, his eyes, mouth, touch, but all she could see was Santa, and it took all her willpower not to laugh aloud.

“Okay, fine.” She sighed. “Oh, Santa, baby…”

From head to heels and back again, St. Nick dashed kisses over her exposed skin, tickling a trail with the beard. He slipped off the dress and body slimmer with an expert touch, as if he was peeling a human banana.

Gloved hands persuaded her body into easy submission as she stretched out on the bed beneath a red blur and a flurry of white. Christmas was coming early, and she was getting everything she wanted for the first time in a long, long time.

“Tell me when to stop.”

“Don’t.” She wriggled at the tickling-teasing sensation of satin fingers swirling her belly button. “Don’t. Ever. Stop.”

He tugged off the beard. Pulled off the gloves. His warm palms encircled her waist as he kissed her belly. Then caressed her naked thighs, pushing her knees apart. His finger slipped under her panties then penetrated her honey pot.

“God, you’re so wet,” he whispered in amazement.

“Oh, yes,” she hissed with magnificent anticipation as he worked off her underwear one-handed.

Then, like an incessant ice pick in her brain, that damn doom-and-gloom tune destroyed her good mood. Unlike Nick, she couldn’t ignore Claudine’s interference any more. She slammed her knees together and pushed him away.

“Get off me and just answer the phone already!”

Chapter Fourteen

The last person in the world Nick wanted to talk to was Claudine. Especially with Lily ready, willing, and naked beneath him.

“She
obviously
wants to talk to you.” Lily rolled off the bed.

He collapsed in her warm space and curled an arm around her fragrant pillow. “I don’t want to get mixed up in her problems.”

She flicked on the light. Nick couldn’t take his eyes off her curvaceous bottom marked with Dimples of Venus above each perfect cheek.

“You can’t ignore her forever. What if it’s important?”

Lily grabbed a long, pink bathrobe from the hook beside her bedroom door, next to the incremental tick marks on the jamb that started low until it reached her current height. A visual reminder of their wide age-gap. Guilt bloomed in his belly. But her bouncing breasts confirmed she was all woman, old enough for him in every way imaginable.


Well
?” she asked.

“Well, what?” Too busy fantasizing about her figure, he’d missed the question.

Raising her brows, she glared at him, looking crazy-sexy as hell, with tangled hair, and her face flushed from foreplay. “What if Claudine has something important to tell you?”

“She can leave a message like everyone else.”

“Maybe she’s not over you.”

“Maybe you’re right, but it’s a little too late for that.”

She marched out, mumbling, “Well, the heart wants what the heart wants.”

“It’s not her heart that wants me!”

Nick crossed the hall to redress in a pair of black sweatpants and a black thermal shirt from his duffle bag, then met Lily in the kitchen.

“Whenever her heart gets broken she comes looking for me to fix it. Make her feel good again. Build her up. Let her know she deserves better. I can’t be her go-to guy anymore. Getting divorced was supposed to be the end of the relationship. Just because I didn’t sever ties with her brother, and she and I share a godchild, doesn’t mean we’d get back together one day. No. Way.”

BOOK: Sleeping With Santa
4.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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