Jingle Balls: A Holiday Romantic Comedy Anthology

by Dylann Crush

  All I found leaning against the green wall was one of those big, rectangular snow shovels. Even the paint looked old, like it might still contain lead.

  I grabbed the shovel and hid it behind my back. This ghost won’t see me coming.

  There was another noise, but it came from out in the hotel's hallway. Probably someone walking by. Despite where it came from, I jumped and shrieked, causing the shovel to hit the door.

  “Get it together, Julia,” I mumbled to myself and took a deep breath.

  A sudden bang came from the other side of the small door. Instead of jumping and fleeing, I stood still, frozen in fear.

  If a horror film ever came to life, I’d be one of the first idiots who got killed. You know, the part where people yell at them to run. I was killer bait.

  Yet I reached for that old brass doorknob. My hand shook, and as I was doing it, I kept asking myself why. Why am I such a fool? Why am I opening the door for whatever murderous ghost on the other side? And why is a ghost knocking?

  I pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. The room was pitch-black, and I couldn’t see a thing, not even my foot in front of me.

  I squinted and asked, “Hello? Is someone there?”

  There was nothing. I turned my head and thought I saw movement, so I took a step farther inside, the shovel still behind my back.

  The door closed behind me, and the room was engulfed in black once again.

  That’s when I heard a muffled voice. “Oh, fuck, we’re trapped.”

  “No,” I yelled as I realized the closet was haunted.

  I dropped the shovel, turned, and felt for the door. It was there but no doorknob. What sort of fire-code violating, old-timey crap was this? No doorknob?

  Trapped. In a pitch-black room. And worst of all, with a ghost.

  “I’m afraid so . . . I’ve been here a long time. Ages, it seems . . ..”

  “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit,” I whisper-screamed.

  “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

  “You, uh . . . you won’t?” I tried my best to hold back my tears.

  Not all ghosts were evil. Perhaps he was a cool ghost. Maybe he was a rocker from the sixties and died from partying too hard. Maybe he hung around because he wasn’t ready for the party to end. The whole live-fast-die-young sort of guy.

  I rubbed my arms and nodded. Yeah, that was it. Please, let that be it.

  “No. I would never do that to anyone. I’m just looking to leave. My brother trapped me in here in what feels like forever ago, and all I want to do is get out.”

  Now I felt terrible. His own brother killed him. He probably starved to death in here. Forgotten by the world. That was horrific. Thank goodness Laura wasn’t here, or she’d start blubbering.

  “I’m so sorry. Just know that you aren’t alone. Do you see a light? If you see a light, walk toward it.”

  “Do you see a light?”

  What? Why would I see a light?

  “No, of course not. I’m not dead.”

  Perhaps if I told him the truth, he’d be more willing to cross over. That might be the best move here.

  “I would hope not. I don’t think dead people could open doors,” he said with a chuckle.

  I liked his laugh. It was warm and deep and rumbled across my chest, hardening my nipples.

  Ewww. Was I getting turned on by a ghost? Maybe I should see a therapist, like many of my exes had suggested.

  “No, but living people can, like me.”

  I heard movement, and then his voice grew louder, like he was right in front of me. “You can get us out of here?”

  “No, what? I meant that I am alive, and you are—” The words died on my lips as I gasped.

  I had reached out, and my fingers touched something. It was warm, a little smooth, but felt like hair on skin. Then it moved.

  “That’s my nipple.”

  I jumped and stumbled back, landing on some boxes. “Holy moly, you’re alive!”

  3

  Monty

  “Yes, I’m alive. Wait . . . did you think I was dead? Like a ghost?” I asked as I placed my hand on my now hardening nipple.

  “Uh, nope. Totally knew you were alive this whole time,” she said with a grunt. I heard some things move and wondered if she had walked into the boxes like I had earlier.

  “Watch out for the boxes. There’s a lot of them in here.”

  “I gathered. So, if you aren’t a ghost, which I will deny to my grave that I ever thought you were, then why are you in here?”

  Rubbing my forehead, I knew I couldn’t tell her everything about me being in this storage room. Especially not the whole naked part. She would freak out if she knew she was trapped in here with a naked man.

  James would find it even more hilarious than his ridiculous plan for me to streak the Jingle Ball. As much as he would taunt me, he wouldn’t leave a stranger stuck in here. He was happy to mess with me, but not anyone outside the family.

  “When my brother comes back, he’ll let us out. Once he knows you’re here, he’ll open the door.”

  There was silence. It was weird being in a room with someone I couldn’t see, knowing I was naked, but they didn’t. It made the silence unnerving.

  “You never answered my question.”

  No, I didn’t. I was hoping thoughts of my brother rescuing us would distract her. I was wrong.

  “Oh, you know . . .thought this place looked interesting and walked inside. Now I can’t get out.”

  She hummed but never said a word.

  “Like I said, once my brother gets back, he’ll get us out, and all will be good. In fact, I’ll let you out first. You don’t even have to look at me if you don’t want to. Just leave and pretend this never happened.”

  Did James leave more ribbon? Maybe I could fashion a dick and ball cozy. If she looked once we got out, I’d say it was part of the costume I was changing into.

  That would be a weird costume. God, nothing about the situation was right. I couldn’t even cover my junk without it appearing creepy.

  “Why hasn’t he let you out already? You said he trapped you in here. Why?”

  I laughed. A huge, guttural, nervous laugh. No matter how I put it, there wasn’t an answer that didn’t appear strange and pervy.

  “Now you’re making me nervous.”

  Shit. That’s not what I wanted to do.

  “Look, it’s complicated. And strange. And if you knew my brother, it would make sense, but you don’t. At least, I don’t think you do. Anyway, he thought it would be funny to trap me in here.”

  I left the naked part out for obvious reasons.

  “Seems a little juvenile to me. I’d never do that to my sister. Sure, I replaced her perfume with apple cider vinegar mixed with pickle juice once, but that was when we were teenagers.”

  “Where’s your sister? Does she live around here?”

  “Yes. She lives in D.C. with her sleezy boyfriend. She’s here tonight, but she works in the kitchen. She won’t be back until this is over. No chance of her rescuing me. I hope she doesn’t think I flaked on the job . . . again.”

  “You don’t live in D.C.?”

  “No. I, uh . . . live outside it. Not much of a city girl.”

  That’s different. At least from the women I had met. Most of them couldn’t fathom living away from a city.

  “Most of the women I’ve met love the city. I wonder if some of them ever stepped foot off the concrete and onto grass. I once asked a girlfriend to go camping with me, and she wondered if it was like glamping.”

  “Glamping. What’s that?”

  “That’s what I asked, too. You bring all the luxuries of home to the great outdoors. She wanted me to construct a bed in the woods, mattress and all.”

  I heard a snort followed by laughter. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory.

  “We never went camping together.”

  “You mean glamping.”

  We both burst into laughter. It took a minute a
nd me wiping at my tears, but I finally caught my breath.

  “Yeah, we didn’t last long.”

  “Does your brother work here? That’s why I’m here. My sister got me the job of a coat check person. It’s not glamorous like glamping, but it helps pay the bills.”

  My eyes shifted to where I thought the door was, praying James would choose that moment to open it. But nothing happened.

  I didn’t want to tell her anything about me. It’s not that I didn’t like her. She seemed to have a sense of humor, and her willingness to keep asking me questions meant she was sharp. Someone I’d like to know outside of a dark closet, which was exactly why I couldn’t tell her my name.

  If she, no . . . when she discovered I was naked with her the whole time, she’d never want anything to do with Monty Diaz.

  “Yeah, I’m working it too. I’m playing Santa. That’s why I was in here to change, but then my brother thought it’d be funny to lock me in.” I cringed as I gave her a blatant lie.

  “I thought I read on the brochure it wasn’t a Santa but a non-denominational-festive-season person. The picture they had looked like if Santa had sex with one of his reindeer and Glinda the Good Witch got in on the action.”

  I chuckled. “You’re right. I just didn’t want to have to say all that, so I shortened it to Santa.”

  There was silence again, and something about it felt uneasy. Like I had to watch my back.

  That’s when I felt her hand. It was on my cock.

  She yelled, and the hand moved away as quickly as it landed.

  “Are there sausage-shaped things hanging on your costume?”

  Lie, Monty! Lie like you’ve never lied before! My brain scrambled to come up with something convincing. But the more I thought of anything remotely believable, the more I felt like I would throw up.

  “Yes . . . and no.”

  “What? I couldn’t hear you?”

  That was the reason I mumbled my response.

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  It’s easy to explain; I just didn’t want to freak her out. And the more I lied, the worse I felt.

  “It’s not really that hard to explain clothing. Like me, I’m wearing a navy sweater and a skirt with little reindeer all over it since it’s a holiday ball. Also, I’ve got on my scuffed-up green high-tops that match my skirt. There, now, your turn.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and knew there was no way out. At some point, she would discover I was naked. Would it be worse if she found out at the end, realizing she was stuck in a dark closet with a naked stranger this whole time? Or if I was honest with her right now?

  Either way, she was stuck. Either way, I was stuck.

  “It’s the wearing part that’s the problem for me.” I cupped my balls, even though she couldn’t see them.

  “Is the costume too big or small?”

  “Nope. It’s the costume itself. I made that part up.”

  Silence stretched for what felt like hours. I wanted to say something, to reassure the woman I wouldn’t hurt her. That I would keep my distance from her. But I kept silent too. Maybe she hadn’t figured it out. Maybe she was quiet because she hated talking.

  Or maybe being trapped in here was causing me to go insane.

  “Yes or no. Are you wearing clothing? That includes underwear.”

  She knew.

  “No.”

  “Okay. That’s okay. We all like to walk around naked from time to time. I usually do it in my home, but if dark closets are your thing, I won’t judge.”

  I knew she’d think I was weird.

  “Like I said, I was trapped in here. Some of what I told you was true. My brother told me I had to change into the Santa costume, I mean, the non-denominational-festive-season-person costume. He told me to undress in here, and he’d get me the costume. He never did, and he took my clothes.”

  “Then what’s on your dick?”

  I frowned. Why did I think wrapping my dick up in ribbon would improve the situation?

  “Festive ribbon.”

  There was silence again for a moment. I thought she was crying when I heard a few sniffles. I was about to ease her fears when I realized she wasn’t crying but laughing. Her chuckling grew to wheezing, along with a few snorts, which grew louder.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh . . . Uh, oh God, okay, I lied. I totally meant to laugh.”

  My mouth hung open. It flabbergasted me. Here I was so concerned with easing her fears, and she laughed at me.

  She was as bad as my brother.

  “So hilarious. I’m sure if this happened to you, you’d be all chuckles, enjoying every moment.” I folded my arms over my chest.

  “Look, I am sorry. I think it’s the nerves and, oh—” She halted as her hand touched my arm.

  “Don’t worry. You didn’t accidentally touch my candy cane dick again.”

  “Candy cane? What? No, I didn’t think I had. I purposely raised my hand a little higher this time before reaching out. Was that your arm?”

  “Yes, my upper arm. Why?”

  “Can I touch it again?”

  My cock twitched. As mad as I was at her for laughing, I liked it when she touched my arm. Goosebumps covered my arm and went up my neck.

  “Okay.”

  I braced myself for what, I didn’t know. Perhaps it was the thought of her smooth fingers sliding over my skin. That slight touch was exceedingly pleasurable, and when I inhaled her vanilla scent, my cock strained against its bindings.

  Her warm hand settled on my shoulder before it slowly meandered down my arm. Neither of us spoke, but I heard her breath pick up. And just that whisper-soft sound did something to me.

  It made me want to reach for her.

  Her fingers explored more, leaving my arm and drifting across my chest. I lowered my arms and let her keep going.

  “Is this too much?” she asked, and I shook my head as if she could see me.

  It’s not enough.

  “No,” I croaked out.

  Her fingers found my nipple. “I felt that before.”

  “Yup.” My cock was rock-hard now, and the ribbon hurt.

  I wanted to unwrap it but feared if I moved my hand toward my dick, that would scare her.

  “You want me to stop?”

  No. Absolutely not.

  “Not if you don’t want to.”

  She added another hand, and her fingers spread over my abs. I wished I was ticklish because then I’d have a reason to reach for her, to touch her. Instead, I let her control what she wanted from me.

  “Is it really wrapped up to look like a candy cane?”

  I pictured her biting her lip. The first thing I noticed about her when she opened the door was her mouth. I licked my lips just thinking about it.

  I should stop her. What if my brother chose that moment to open the door? I wouldn’t want her embarrassed.

  But instead of backing up and pulling her hands away, I said, “It’s wrapped in red ribbon and loves to be licked.”

  4

  Julia

  “I love to suck on candy canes this time of year,” I said and immediately bit my lip, thankful he couldn’t see the heat flooding my cheeks.

  Or how wet I was between my legs.

  I had never felt up a stranger in the dark before. Actually, that’s not true. I had, but at least I had seen what the guy looked like first. And he knew what I looked like too.

  But this was different. I didn’t know what color hair this guy had or if he had hair. Or if he had legs. The most I knew was he had one amazingly defined arm, a hard nipple, and washboard abs so rigid that I couldn’t stop thinking about rubbing my soaked pussy over those abs until I came.

  I meant it when I told my sister I would take this job seriously, but now I was stuck in here with a man who took care of his body and had such a deep voice that my clit felt the vibrations.

  What was a girl to do?

  What problems could come from a little fooling around in a dark c
loset with a hot stranger? None. Just a fun way to pass the time. That’s what I figured at least. And based on the hardness of his nipple and the heat rising from his skin, I suspected he felt the same way.

  “I’d love to see that.” His voice sounded deeper and a little hoarse.

  When I first felt his dick, I wondered for a moment if it was his cock. I’ve held many cocks in my time, so I knew what they felt like. But his was strange. Rougher than usual, like something was on it.

  The ribbon explained everything. And it gave me a thrill that I got to unwrap his candy cane.

  I moved my hands down and was pleasantly surprised by the size of it. My mouth watered at the thought of trying to fit his huge cock in my mouth.

  “Are you in pain? The ribbon is so tight, and you’re big.”

  He moaned.

  I lowered to my knees and reached out my tongue until I was able to lick away the droplet that had formed on his tip.

  “Oh, God.” His hand found my head and slipped his fingers into my messy waves.

  I sucked on the tip. His fingers stiffened in my hair and I knew he was trying to restrain himself—much like what the ribbon was doing to his cock. I kissed his tip how I wanted to kiss his lips. He growled.

  It took only a moment, but I unraveled the ribbon, and it fell to the ground. Now I could wrap my lips around his cock and truly taste him.

  Him. I didn’t even know the guy’s name. But I kinda liked that.

  Somehow, in this room where time stood still, we were strangers who were closer than a lot of couples I knew.

  My nose filled with his musky scent and a hint of old dusty cardboard. I had a feeling I’d never see a cardboard box again without thinking of this moment.

  I loosened my jaw and pulled as much of him inside as I could.

  “Oh God,” he cried out before he pulled me back.

  What was happening?

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “Yes. I haven’t had a chance to taste you yet.”

  And before I realized what was happening, I felt his sultry breath on my ear. He wasn’t even touching me, and my heart pounded in my throat. He must have moved to his knees, and I hoped he would kiss me.