Hunk for X-Mas

by Cheri Wood

  “I was just making tea. Do you want some?” I ask, manners kicking in line a Pavlovian response to having company.

  “That’d be great, actually,” he says, rubbing his arms, presumably to warm up.

  “Kitchen’s this way,” I tell him, nodding down the hall.

  He bends over to unlace his boots.

  “What are you doing?”

  He pauses and looks up at me. “I don’t want to track snow and sleet into your home.”

  Oh. “Right. Hang on.”

  I grab some fuzzy socks from the hallway dresser and toss them to him. “The floors can be a bit cold.”

  As Jorah – no, Jordan – follows me into the kitchen, I realize he’s the first man who’s been in my house for years, not counting him being here last night, pretending to be his brother.

  I add some water to the kettle and turn it back on, leaning against the kitchen counter as I look him up and down.

  “Do you do that a lot? Swap places with your brother?”

  “When we were kids, sure, but not since high school.”

  “Where’d you go to college? You said you dropped out.”

  He runs his hand through his hair, smiling sheepishly. “Well… I didn’t drop out. I went to MIT.”

  I blink. “Wow. Seriously?”

  He shrugs, looking embarrassed. If I didn’t believe him before – he could have photoshopped that picture, after all – I do now. No way the confident stripper of the bachelor party would be embarrassed about going to a top school.

  “So why web design?” I ask, grabbing another mug from the cupboard as the water boils. “I mean, aren’t you over-qualified or something?”

  He shrugs. “I like it. It’s creative. And I don’t have to work on-site much with people.”

  “You don’t like people?” I pour the hot water and hold out my selection of teabags for him to choose from.

  “I like some people,” he says, smiling as we make proper eye-contact.

  I’m the first one to look away and I busy myself with choosing my own teabag. “What made you say yes to swapping places with your brother the other night?”

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. Jorah knew where to push, I guess. He made it sound like you would be devastated to be stood up, feeling rejected. I know that feeling, and it’s not a good one. I wanted to spare you that.”

  Seriously? Who is this guy?

  “Do you regret it?” I ask, biting my bottom lip as I dunk my teabag.

  “Yeah.”

  Ouch. That hurt more than I would have thought. “I see.”

  “No,” he says, stepping forward. He tilts my chin up, so I’m looking into those insanely beautiful eyes.

  “I regret going along with Jorah’s scheme. I wish I’d met you as Jordan from the start.”

  “And if you had?”

  “I would have asked for a second date… and a third, and a fourth…”

  “That’s sweet of you to say—”

  “No, Emily, I’m not just saying it to be nice. I was instantly attracted to you, and that small glimpse of you with your daughter only made you more attractive to me, because I could tell you were warm and caring on top of being fucking gorgeous. That’s pretty rare, you know?”

  I can’t form words. Like, at all. I can’t remember the last time anyone complimented me like this.

  “Did I freak you out? I’m sorry if that was too much. Like I said, I don’t really date much these days.”

  I feel it coming on, completely inappropriate, but I can’t hold it back. I laugh. Or, giggle, then wheeze with laughter. “I’m sorry,” I say in between puffs of air. “It’s not you. I don’t even know why I’m laughing.”

  “It’s been a couple of intense days for you, hasn’t it?” he says, sounding nothing but understanding.

  My laughter turns to sobs. Why am I crying? I’m horrified, and I turn my back on Jordan so he won’t see. But he steps around me and gently pull me into his arms.

  “It’s okay,” he soothes, rubbing my back.

  I don’t want to lean on him, but his arms are so strong and gentle, and I allow myself a moment of weakness. When was the last time I did that?

  Embarrassed, I pull back and wipe my tears. “Wow. Sorry about that. I must not have slept enough lately.”

  “Hey, no need to apologize. I’m sorry for pushing myself on you tonight, I should let you get some sleep. Maybe we could exchange numbers? I really would like to take you out on a proper date.”

  “Really?”

  He chuckles and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yes, really. I want to get to know you, Emily. Hell, I’ve already let this man see more of my true self than I have most people in my life over the past couple of years.

  “Okay. Let’s do it,” I say, nodding. At the very least, I’ll get Tiffany off my back, and I already know Jordan is a gentleman.

  Jordan breaks out into an even bigger smile than before. “Awesome. How’s tomorrow night?”

  I laugh. This is crazy. But what the hell?

  “Okay. What time?”

  “Any time that works for you. I’m pretty flexible with my work schedule.”

  “Right… well, so am I these days.”

  He frowns. “I’m sorry, I should have asked… what’s happening with that fucker at your office?”

  “Well, long story short, I’m getting a nice settlement and time off until I get another job, and he gets a slap on the wrist.”

  “You’re kidding?” Jordan’s soft, warm disposition turns cold and hard. “They’re letting that SOB get away with it?”

  “I’ll tell you the whole story some other day. The point is, my schedule is wide open.”

  He stays silent for a while, seemingly processing, and then his features soften again. “How does Katie feel about ice skating?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your baby girl? It’s Katie, isn’t it? You said her name the other night…”

  “Right. Yes, her name’s Katie. But she’s only two, she doesn’t skate.”

  “Well, how ‘bout a sleigh ride in the snow?” he says, grinning. “We could take a day trip out to my friend’s parents’ place – they open their farm up to visitors over the holidays, like a country fair. I may have helped them with their website,” he adds.

  “Wow… I mean, that’s pretty advanced for a first date, isn’t it? Meeting friends slash clients, hanging out with my daughter…”

  “Well, technically, it’s our second date,” he says, stepping closer. “And I may not believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in chemistry, and if our kisses were any indication, we’ve got that in spades.”

  I swallow. Hard. He’s so close, all I need to do is reach up and press my lips to his. The masculine scent of him envelopes me, and it’s making me heady.

  “I was kissing ‘Jorah’ last night, remember?” I say, attempting to sound teasing, but it just comes out sounding like I’m out of breath.

  “Well, from now on, you’ll only be kissing the older brother,” he says and pulls me flush against his hard body.

  My palms land on his chest and I let myself explore the hard planes of his upper body. He said his brother is the weightlifter, but he definitely works out. I slide my hands around to his back as I look up to see the blazing heat in his eyes. I part my lips in invitation, and a split second later, his tongue is performing a sensuous dance with mine. I tilt my head back so he can slant his mouth over mine more easily, and I dig my nails into his back to keep from falling over.

  How is this so good? My hips arch into his and I feel the hard outline of his cock against my core. Wow, he’s big. I crave the friction more than I crave my next breath, and I shamelessly rub myself against him.

  “Fuck,” he curses as he pulls his mouth from mine and puts some distance between us, holding me steady but just out of reach of his cock – unless I were to reach my hand out, of course…

  “I’m sorry, Emily,” he says, his voice hoarse. “That escalated way t
oo fast.”

  No kidding. I don’t know what came over me. I was seconds away from begging him to fuck me. With my two-year-old asleep in the house. What the hell has gotten into me? I snort at the thought that pops into my head – not Jordan, so far.

  “Yeah...”

  “I really should go,” he says, backing away from me, his erection still clearly visible through his pants.

  I nod, rubbing my bottom lip. “That might be for the best...”

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow? Say 10 o’clock?”

  “Okay.”

  I’ve officially lost my mind.

  The farm is amazing, and so are the Jamesons. Jordan’s friend’s parents are super nice, and when the snow starts coming down a bit harder than expected, they offer up the use of one of their guest cottages, fully stocked with food, drinks, and firewood to keep the cottage nice and toasty all night long.

  Sally Jameson even lets me borrow some clothes, and Katie has enough diapers in her go-bag to last us the night. So now all I need to worry about is not sleeping with Jordan on our first – no, second – date.

  The cottage has two bedrooms, and the Jamesons were even able to rustle up a crib for Katie, so there’s no forced intimacy here. Unless you count the fact that Jordan seems to be everywhere – his voice, his scent, his very presence won’t let me forget how a mere kiss from him has me begging for more. I’m not worried about him making inappropriate advances – I’m the one who can’t be trusted.

  “Katie’s asleep?” Jordan asks me as I walk into the living room area where he’s poking the fire to keep it going.

  “Yeah, all tuckered out and all tucked in,” I reply, taking a seat on the couch by the fireplace. “She had fun today.”

  “I’m glad,” Jordan says, putting the poker back in its place. “What about her mom?”

  He takes a seat beside me on the couch and a ripple of heat travels through me as the cushions dip.

  “She had a good time, too,” I answer him, smiling.

  “Glad to hear it,” he says, grinning. “So our second date passed the smell-test, then?”

  I laugh. “It’s still going, isn’t it?”

  He shakes his head. “No, the second date was a day trip. It’s night-time now. That makes this our third date.”

  I press my lips together to prevent myself from laughing again – or grinning like a fool.

  “And what usually happens on third dates?” I ask him, picking up a throw pillow and focusing on its pleated pattern.

  “I haven’t been on one before,” he says, which has me looking up in surprise.

  “What?”

  He shrugs. “Back in college, it wasn’t so much about dating. It was more meeting someone at a party and taking them home. Then I got older and became a recluse.”

  “Oh.”

  “What about you?” he asks, plucking the pillow out of my hands. “What are your third dates like?”

  “I… I don’t know. It’s been so long since I dated anyone. Katie’s father… it was a careless moment when I was in college.”

  “So… no set rules on third-date protocol for either one of us, then,” Jordan says, shifting closer.

  I mirror his movement until we’re only inches apart. The air is thick with the smell of burning firewood and pheromones, and my breasts ache, my nipples straining towards him, as we exchange short breaths. I think I actually whimper as our lips meet, and then Jordan’s fingers are tunneling through my hair, my breasts pressed against his chest, and I’m soon straddling him on the couch.

  Aah! I knew I couldn’t trust myself! As Jordan’s warm hands stroke up and down my back, I lift my hips and lower them again, riding him fully clothed.

  He groans and nips at my bottom lip. “You need to stop doing that if you don’t want to wake up the man downstairs.”

  My skin is flushed, and I bite my own lip, considering my options. I could get off him, say goodnight, and spend the night alone in between cool sheets. Or… we could both get off.

  I communicate my decision without words – by pulling my top over my head.

  He stares at me, his eyes darker than before, and hungry. He feasts his eyes on my breasts, dressed in dark red lace, and licks his lips. Yup, definitely hungry.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his hands gliding up my sides, the thumbs brushing the skin below the cups.

  I swear my boobs grow just from his heated gaze, like plants in a greenhouse.

  Gently, Jordan swipes his thumbs over my tight nipples, and it sends shivers straight down to my core.

  “Oh.”

  “Again?” he asks, hoarsely now, and I just nod.

  This time, he presses slightly harder, then tugs at them, making me whimper and gasp. Need fires between my legs, the walls of my pussy clamping down at nothing.

  “Fuck, you’re responsive,” he mumbles, tugging down the demicups to put his mouth on my aching tips.

  I dig my nails into his scalp and hold him to my breast. Meanwhile, I’m all too aware of how wet I’m getting and how hard the bulge in his jeans is getting. I’ve never wanted anything so bad as I want his hard length in me right now, and I reach down between us to undo his fly.

  “Emily,” Jordan says, coming up for air. “Don’t.”

  I frown, embarrassment flooding me like ice water. Did I read him all wrong? Doesn’t he want me?

  He grabs my hands and lift them to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. “If you touch me right now, I’m going to pop, and you deserve better than that.”

  “Oh…” My cheeks are on fire. So he does want me, then.”

  “Hang on a minute, will you?” he says, putting his hands on my hips to move me off his lap.

  “Where are you going?” I ask as he gets up.

  He smiles at me and winks. “Patience.”

  I sit back on the couch and pull a blanket over my partially exposed breasts, then reach behind me to undo the clasp. No point keeping the gate closed when the puppies are already out of the pen.

  I’m going to sleep with Jordan tonight. Ever since our first kiss, I’ve wondered what it would be like, and now I can’t wait. Tiffany was right – I do need to get back in the game while Katie is still too young to get attached, and Jordan sets me on fire every time he kisses me. If one night – or a couple – is all we’ll have, then so be it. At least I’ll get to feel like a desirable woman again.

  Jordan

  I grab the duvet off the bed, and the pillows. Then I raid the closet for an extra set. My dick is protesting being restricted by denim and denied relief, but I wasn’t kidding about being near the edge. Neither one of us has had sex in a long time, and I’ll be damned if I can’t make it good for Emily.

  Unless she’s changed her mind now that she’s had a moment to think… I hope not, but if so… I guess it’ll be just me and my hand tonight.

  As I walk back into the living room, though, I see her bra on the table. It was a fucking sexy bra, but I can’t say I’m sad to see it go. Especially because Emily must have taken it off while waiting for me to come back.

  She turns her head as I walk over to the fireplace, and damn if she isn’t even more beautiful in this light.

  “What are you doing?” she asks softly as I dump my booty on the floor.

  “Getting comfortable,” I tell her, arranging the bedding in front of the fireplace, close enough to feel the heat, but far enough away to avoid any stray embers setting the makeshift bed on fire.

  I hold out my hand in invitation, and she only hesitates for a moment before dropping the blanket she’d wrapped around her topless torso. Her full breasts are magnificent in the glow of the fire, and I pull her down to sit in front of me.

  “You okay?” I ask her, making sure she’s still with me all the way, and I inwardly sigh in relief when she nods.

  “I’m nervous,” she admits shyly.

  “You don’t have to do anything you aren’t a hundred percent into,” I remind her.

  Instead of respondi
ng verbally, she leans in and kisses me, while tugging on the hem of my shirt. I let her undress me, and run her hands over my chest, taking great pleasure in watching her eyes grow darker with desire.

  “Wow…” she breathes out as her fingers trace my abs. “I’ve never been with anyone this perfect.”

  The praise makes my ego swell, and my dick isn’t unhappy about it, either. I reach out and put my hands over her full breasts, using my thumbs to tease her peaks like I did before. “Likewise,” I assure her.

  She drops her head back and I take the opportunity to taste the skin at her neck and guide her down to lie beneath me on the bedding.

  “Comfortable?” I ask her, and she blushes under my heated gaze.

  I move down her body, worshipping at her breasts and making her cry out and squirm under me. My dick is painfully hard and her wriggling isn’t helping one bit. So I abandon her sensitive globes for now and move southward, kissing her belly button and inching down her pants and underwear. She lifts her hips and I take the opportunity to pull her pants off completely.

  The hair covering her sex is neatly trimmed and luxuriously soft to the touch.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t—” she starts, sounding uncomfortable. “You don’t have to—”

  I drop a kiss on her inner thigh, and another on her mound. “I love that you’re all woman,” I tell her, reaching up to cover her breasts as I get comfortable between her legs. “I bet you taste as sweet as you smell, too.”

  She gasps as my tongue swipes along her slit, and when I have to abandon one of her luscious tits to part her with my fingers, she bucks against me.

  “Yes, definitely sweet,” I tell her before delving in for a proper feast.

  Emily

  Jordan’s tongue is… oh, fuck, how is he even doing that? It’s like I’ve lost control of my whole body and some primitive entity has taken over. My pelvis is moving of its own accord, my pussy behaving like a venus flytrap, trying to close around its prey.

  “Jordan… I’m going to…” I warn him, feeling a massive orgasm building from deep inside me.