Jingle Balls: A Holiday Romantic Comedy Anthology

by Dylann Crush

  “It’s delicious.” But not as delicious as the man standing on the other side of the tall kitchen counter. I’d been resistant to Misty’s meddling, but the truth was, Dr. Weston Pierce checked all of my boxes. Smart, sexy, and good at conversation. I wasn’t about to fall victim to a fix up, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have a little fun.

  He lifted his glass toward mine. “How about a toast?”

  “To what?”

  His brow wrinkled as he appeared to think of something to toast to. “What do you want to call the drink?”

  I eyed the two cherries sitting at the bottom of my martini glass. They reminded me of the decor at the Jingle Balls ball last night, which made me think about all the flirty banter we’d volleyed back and forth. “How about Blue Balls?”

  He coughed, causing a tiny bit of liquid to splash over the rim of his drink and onto his shirt. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Looks like you spilled a little.” I pointed at the blue splotch on his pristine white shirt. “You might want to toss that in the laundry before it sets.”

  “If you say so.” He lifted his shirt up and over his head in one smooth motion, leaving a bare expanse of chest.

  My eyes widened as my gaze slowly drifted over the chiseled pecs and ridged abs. Suddenly, the kitchen seemed hot. So very hot. I gulped down about half of my drink.

  “Careful there. I wouldn’t want you to spill and have to toss your sweater in with my shirt.” He stepped out from behind the counter.

  Without the barrier of marbled granite between us, there was nothing stopping me from reaching out and running my hands over the smattering of chest hair between his pecs. Nothing but the fear of making an ass out of myself.

  “Will you excuse me for a minute? Looks like I need to find a clean shirt.”

  What the hell was in that drink? I didn’t want him to go. Didn’t want him to cover up the most perfect man chest I’d ever laid eyes on. “No.”

  “No?” He smiled, but a tiny furrow appeared between his brows. “You won’t excuse me?”

  “Don’t go.”

  He tilted his head to the hall. “I’ll be right back. My washing machine is just over there.”

  “Was a load of laundry part of the fine print?” I trapped my lower lip with my teeth, seeing if he’d be daring enough to pick up on my intentions.

  “Well…” He made his way over to where I sat on the stool. “Do you have something that needs to be washed?”

  Me. I wanted to shout that he could wet me down and soap me up with those giant, strong hands. The word hovered on the tip of my tongue. Seriously, what the hell was in that drink?

  He stopped in front of me and nudged my legs apart with his thigh. “Heather?”

  “Yes?”

  He placed his finger under my chin. My skin practically sizzled at his touch. Heat scorched its way up my chest, probably turning my cheeks the same color as my sweater.

  “You okay?” He nudged my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

  His eyes reflected the same white hot heat I felt in the pit of my core.

  Before I had a chance to put on the brakes, I grabbed onto his shoulders and our mouths met. This wasn’t a tentative, testing first kiss. His tongue slid against mine as he dragged me off my stool and clasped me against his chest.

  Every part of me ignited as his hands gripped my ass. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea that felt so incredibly good. His lips moved to my cheek, then traveled over my ear. Waves of shivers rolled through me. My hands couldn’t get enough of the smooth contours of his shoulders.

  Pressed against him, I felt his dick along my lower belly. Damn, if the size of his hands was any indication of what he might have waiting for me in his jeans, I might be getting an early Christmas present tonight.

  He cradled my head in his hand, adjusting the angle to take the kiss I’d started even deeper. A moan rumbled through me as I gave in to the wet heat of his mouth on mine.

  Even as I clutched those broad shoulders, pulling him tight, I needed more.

  His hand slipped under my sweater and pinpricks of heat followed the trail of his fingertips up my ribs. My nipples tightened as his finger slid under the cup of my bra.

  Whiskers scraped against my cheek as he dipped his head and rimmed the shell of my ear with his tongue. Heat pooled in my belly and spread outward, filling my limbs with molten desire. I wanted him. Wanted him like I hadn’t wanted anyone in a long, long time.

  Before I could change my mind, I pulled back and lifted my sweater up and over my head. “I think you might have got some of that drink on my sweater.”

  His eyes crinkled at the edges and my breath caught as I waited for the dimple to pop. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m ready for that load of laundry.”

  Weston

  The sight of Heather’s boobs spilling out of her lacy red bra made my dick harden against the seam of my jeans.

  “You really want me to put the laundry in?” I aligned her hips against my crotch and pressed the evidence of my need against her pelvis.

  “As long as there’s an extra spin cycle.” Her eyes sparkled with a challenge.

  Before she could change her mind, I broke contact, making my dick practically weep at the loss of her heat against me.

  I grabbed my stained shirt in one hand, then bent down and tossed her over my shoulder. “Your wish is my command tonight.”

  She laughed, her warm breath landing on my back. “I must have missed that in the fine print, too.”

  When we got to the closet that stored my washer and dryer, I tossed my shirt in the washer, threw in one of those bubbles of detergent and lowered the lid. Then I set Heather on top of the machine and flipped on a quick wash cycle.

  Her legs spread, and I nestled myself between her thighs as the washer began to fill. My gaze settled on the lacy red bra. With her on top of the machine, her tits sat just about at chin level. I bent slightly, pressing my lips to the bare skin of her shoulder. She shivered against me as I slid my hands up her back, ready to relieve her of the strapless bra.

  She leaned back, resting her hands on top of the machine. Her skin tasted like sugar cookies. Sugar cookies with vanilla frosting. So sweet. The kind of taste I’d never be able to get enough of.

  The bra fell forward, and I lowered my mouth. Circling a taut, perked nipple with my tongue, I jerked her against me. She arched her back, filling my mouth with her breast. Water stopped pouring into the machine, and the agitator started to churn back and forth, making the whole thing vibrate against my thighs.

  “You sure about this?” I mumbled the question against her breastbone.

  She nodded, and I lifted my head long enough for her gaze to meet mine. “You’re going to need a condom.”

  For the first time in my life, I wondered why the hell I’d never thought to store condoms in my laundry room before. I hated to tear myself away from the sweet taste of her skin, but if I didn’t do something soon, I’d be spilling into my jeans and I hadn’t done that since my awkward teenage years.

  She pushed off her hands and sat up straight. Her fingers moved to her waistband and began working on the button of her jeans. “I suggest you hurry.”

  Approximately forty-five seconds later, I returned to the laundry closet, two condoms clutched in my hand. A man couldn’t be over prepared. Not when he had a woman like Heather Duncan spreading her legs on the lid of his top-loader.

  I rounded the corner, and my gaze landed on the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. She’d removed every stitch of clothing and perched on top of my old Maytag. My breath hitched in my chest as I tossed the condoms on top of the dryer and immediately shed my jeans. My boxers went with them.

  She cocked a brow as she slid an appreciative gaze down the length of my torso, pausing when she reached my painfully hard cock.

  “Come here.” My hand went behind her back, and I pulled her into me.

  Our mouths met, hot and hungry.

  He
r wet heat pressed against my stomach and my dick twitched, eager to take things to the next level. But first, I needed to make sure she was ready. She deserved to enjoy this just as much as me. I moved my hand down between her legs. Shifting against me, she pressed her hips forward. As she met me kiss for kiss, her hands tightened on my shoulders and I slid a finger over the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She moaned into my mouth and I fought to hold back. The sound of her losing a little control had to be the biggest turn on I’d had in years.

  “You’re so fucking wet.” My finger slid inside.

  Her nails pressed into my skin. “And you’re so fucking hard.”

  My mouth dropped to her ear. “Should we help each other out?”

  She grappled for the condom, and the sound of her ripping that foil packet open was like a symphony to my ears. Our fingers brushed as I took it from her and rolled it into place.

  I lifted her up and off the machine, sliding her down onto my dick. My jaw clenched, I tried to go slow. But the sweet friction was almost more than I could take.

  With her back pressed against the washing machine, I had her pinned in place. She clasped her ankles together behind my ass and clenched around me.

  The machine shifted into its spin cycle, and we both began to move.

  8

  Heather

  Pinned between the thrusting of Weston’s hips and the magic of an ancient washing machine’s spin cycle, my body poised on the edge of release. His lips moved over my skin, leaving sparks everywhere they touched, even as his cock filled me. I didn’t want the moment to end.

  But then he pulled back, clamped one hand on my hip and cradled my head with the other. His gaze held mine as his hips pistoned forward, shredding any lingering traces of my self-control. My legs tightened around his waist and I clung to him as I came undone.

  “There you go, beautiful. Let it come.” His hips stilled as I clenched around him, my orgasm crashing over me like waves against a rocky shore. All I could do was hold on and ride it out.

  He moved slowly, circling his hips, sending aftershocks through my system. One, two, three. Multiple orgasms had never been on the menu in the past. But I lost count with Weston as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from me, leaving me boneless and breathless in the aftermath.

  When he was sure I didn’t have anything left, he increased the pace, pumping in and out until he stilled, his entire body going taut. His muscles corded, straining, as his own release jolted through him.

  I don’t know how long we stood there with the machine vibrating against my back. Long enough for me to float back down to earth and take stock of the situation.

  I’d done it again. Something I’d promised myself I’d avoid. I let my emotions get the best of me and dove headfirst into another totally wrong-for-me attraction.

  Disappointment at my lack of judgement seeped in. I untangled my feet from where they’d clasped behind his back and slowly lowered them to the ground.

  His hands brushed over my skin, which had pebbled since the heat between us had cooled. “You okay?”

  “I’ve got to go.” I refused to make eye contact, keeping my gaze trained to the floor where pieces of discarded clothing decorated the hall.

  “What?” His brow furrowed, and he brushed a hunk of hair over my shoulder.

  I bent to gather my panties and bra, not wanting him to see the regret I must be projecting. “I can’t be here anymore. I’ll call a ride.”

  “Heather…” He reached for me, but I dodged his grip.

  “I’ll tell Misty you delivered on the cocktails. She won’t bother you about it.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about. What just happened? Talk to me.”

  I stumbled into my jeans as I made my way down the hall. By the time I reached the front door, I’d pulled my sweater over my head and shoved one arm through the sleeve of my coat. Weston followed me, pulling his jeans up over his hips as I reached the front door.

  Before I could change my mind, I tugged the front door open and escaped into the night. Snow had started to fall, and I shivered as the first blast of frigid air hit me.

  “You’re going to freeze. Let me give you a ride home.”

  I didn’t stop, just rushed forward, so disappointed with myself.

  Weston

  What the hell did I do? The way Heather rushed out of my place, like she couldn’t wait to be free of me, had me scrambling to figure out what to do next. No matter what she was going through, I couldn’t let her walk all the way home. She’d freeze to death before she even reached the town limits.

  I caught up to her about a quarter of a mile from my place. “Get in the truck.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”

  My foot hit the brake, and I slammed it into park. Giant snowflakes landed on my head as I jumped out of the cab and caught up to her.

  “Hey.” I grabbed for the sleeve of her coat. “Talk to me.”

  She spun to face me, and we stood in the beam of light from my headlights. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m so sorry. It’s all me.”

  Tears covered her cheeks. I wanted to reach up and wipe them away. Wanted to pull her into me and assure her that everything would be okay. “Tell me what I can do to make things better.”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.”

  A long moment passed as the snow swirled around us.

  “At least let me drive you home.” I nudged my head toward the truck. “You don’t have to talk to me after tonight, but I’m not going to leave you out here in the middle of a snowstorm.”

  Her jaw clenched and unclenched. “Fine.”

  I walked her back to the door and waited while she settled in the front seat. Neither of us said a word as I drove the fifteen minutes back to her mother’s place. I brought the truck to a stop, and she made no move to get out.

  “For what it’s worth, I had a great time tonight.” I took in a breath and let it out in a huff. “And not just the sex. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out with a woman whose company I really enjoyed.”

  “Thanks.” She climbed out and shut the door behind her.

  I waited after she went inside, hoping she’d come back out and tell me what I’d done wrong. But she didn’t. With no other foreseeable option beyond knocking on her mother’s door and causing a scene, I turned toward home.

  9

  Heather

  “You did what?” Misty’s voice assaulted my ears like the sound of nails screeching down a chalkboard.

  “I walked out.” Bracing myself for a dramatic reaction at her botched set up attempt, I continued. “My life might be crap right now but I don’t need you bribing some hot doctor to blow my mind with pity sex.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Heather?”

  My pulse skipped and skittered, trying to find a regular beat.. “Weston. Last night. The cocktails with a chiro set up.”

  “You mean the gift certificate you won at the Jingle Balls ball?” The volume of Misty’s voice edged up a notch. “The donation I solicited?”

  “Come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t ask him to show me a good time. All that talk at the café the other day? How I need to put myself back out there?”

  “Sweetie, you’ve had two hard blows. First your break up with Ryan. Everyone thought the two of you would last forever. Then your fall out with that asshole mystery man you were dating in Kansas City. Yes, I think you need to get back out there, but that’s none of my business.”

  “But you bought me that basket.” My voice had gone a little soft.

  “Yes, because I wanted you to get to know Weston. He needs a nurse and you need a job, and… holy crap, did you say you slept with him?”

  My hand shook, causing the phone to vibrate against my cheek. “He was so sweet, and we were having such a good time. But I can’t go there again. Last time I fell hard and fast for someone it left me reeling and I’m still picking u
p the pieces.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Misty sighed. “I don’t know what happened with the jerkface you were seeing, but Weston’s one of the good guys. I just thought the two of you might hit it off.”

  “Oh, we hit it all right.”

  Misty snorted. “I was trying to get him to offer you a job. I didn’t mean for the two of you to hook up. He doesn’t seem exactly like your type.”

  “What part of tall, gorgeous, and funny isn’t my type?”

  “You think he’s funny? After the last doc you dated, I thought you told me you wanted to avoid guys who worked in the same field?”

  “I did. And I do. But he was so sweet, and we had such a good time. I always do this… jump in with both feet.” I swallowed around the lump of regret lodged in my throat.

  “Hey, you deserve someone special in your life. Not like the last one. He sounds like a major douche.”

  “He was.”

  “Then you’d better hold tight to Dr. Pierce. Don’t throw away whatever might happen between the two of you just because you think it’s too good to be true.”

  I hated it when Misty was right. But in this case, I was grateful for her shining a little light on what seemed like a dark and gloomy situation. “I think I owe Weston an apology.”

  “I think you’re right.” Misty cleared her throat. “Now go get that hot doc.”

  Weston

  I’d just hopped out of the shower when a knock sounded at the door. I wrapped my towel around my hips and moved down the hall. Probably one of those Boy Scouts peddling holiday wreaths or something. But Heather stood on the other side of the door, shivering on my front stoop.

  I opened the door a crack. “Hey. Forget something last night?”

  “Can I come in?”