Stocking Stuffers

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by Erin McLellan




  Stocking Stuffers

  A So Over the Holidays Novella

  Erin McLellan

  Copyright © 2019 by Erin McLellan

  Stocking Stuffers

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN 978-1-7321734-4-6

  Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood, http://www.cateashwooddesigns.com

  Editing: Edie Danford

  Proofreading: Susan Selva, https://www.lescourtauthorservices.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For inquiries, contact Erin McLellan at www.erinmclellan.com.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Content Warnings: explicit sex including minor kink; discussion of deceased family members

  For more info about these warnings, visit https://smarturl.it/StockingStuffersCWs.

  Praise for Stocking Stuffers

  "I loved Stocking Stuffers! The sexual tension sizzled from start to finish. McLellan weaves sex toys, experimentation and curiosity perfectly into the intimate moments between Sasha and Perry … Get this book as a gift to yourself for the holidays!"

  —Rachel Kramer Bussel, editor of Best Women's Erotica of the Year Series

  “Steamy, snowed-in fun with a fabulous, sex-positive heroine and a smitten, blushing hero who will make romance readers swoon. Grab the tinsel and the toys because Stocking Stuffers will put you in a festive, sexy mood!”

  —Layla Reyne, RITA Finalist and bestselling author of Dine With Me and the Fog City Trilogy

  “With a Scrooge-like heroine who owns her sexuality with a boldness that is admirable and refreshing, and a sensitive hero who's a lover of romance books and family, Stocking Stuffers is a fun, kinky and yes, swoony, holiday romance packed with laughs, hot sex, emotion and a love that will have you rooting for the happily ever after in ugly Christmas sweaters.”

  —Naima Simone, USA Today bestselling author

  “Utterly delightful! Fans of witty, smart m/f rom com will flock to these holiday sexy shenanigans. Sexy and the perfect length for a night by the fire, this is everything I like to see in a holiday novella!”

  —Annabeth Albert, author of the Frozen Hearts Series

  "Stocking Stuffers is a fun, sexy holiday story that's exactly the right blend of naughty and nice."

  —Anna Zabo, author of the Twisted Wishes Series

  “I was completely charmed by this sexy Christmas story—STOCKING STUFFERS is the perfect mix of naughty and nice with a wicked wit and a swoony happy ever after to get you into the holiday spirit!”

  —Vanessa North, RITA and Lambda Literary Award Finalist

  Blurb

  Sasha Holiday is so over the holidays after getting left at the altar last Christmas Eve. But as the marketing maven for Lady Robin’s Intimate Implements, she’s stuck not-so-merrily pitching naughty toys at a romance book club’s Christmas party. Her loathing of the yuletide only intensifies as a snowstorm rolls in and traps her at the Winterberry Inn. Stranded with her is Perry Winters—a hot bearded book club member trimmed in flannel and tattoos.

  Perry’s a romantic with an unerring belief in the magic of the season, and he recognizes a Christmas miracle when he sees it. Brave, smart, and confident—Sasha Holiday is a gift. And the gifts keep coming when she suggests they pass the time with some no-strings fun. After all, she has a big bag of toys that would make even Santa want to stay in bed on Christmas Eve.

  But the frisky festivities turn complicated as feelings spark between Sasha and Perry. Perry wants to see Sasha once the snow clears, but Sasha is reluctant to take the relationship sleigh ride again. Perry will have to show her that love is more than just a holiday feeling.

  To Karen Kiely,

  for being the best writing buddy.

  HEA or GTFO

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  More SO OVER THE HOLIDAYS!

  Also by Erin McLellan

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Sasha lifted the toy from her huge red bag with a flourish, and the jingle bells on her reindeer antlers tinkled merrily.

  “This little darling, the Love Bite, is my favorite of the bunch.” She displayed the toy in her hands like a model on The Price is Right. She’d found, after years of peddling her wares to anyone and everyone who would listen, that drama sells. Especially at Christmas. “The handle is ergonomic, and it’s sturdy. Frankly, there is nothing I hate more than a flimsy sex toy.”

  The Staunchly Raunchy Book Club members tittered, and Sasha grinned. “Y’all know what I’m mean. I can tell.”

  Gently teasing the clients was one of Sasha’s customer service tricks. She was adept at figuring out which Lady Robin’s Intimate Implements partygoers were gregarious and bantering with them. But today, Sasha’s heart wasn’t exactly full of holiday cheer or consumerism. She felt like the fake elf at the party, and she’d never been a very good faker.

  “The Love Bite uses suction technology, and I swear to the Ghost of Good Orgasms Past, it’s the closest to real oral I’ve ever found in a sex toy. You just place the head over your clit and it creates a suck-and-release sensation,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Sasha normally loved filling in at a Lady Robin’s sales party when one of the regular reps called in sick. She loved chatting with the clients, and she definitely loved the commission money.

  But she hated Christmas, so this party sucked.

  Sasha passed the Love Bite to Valerie, the party’s hostess and a beautiful femme lesbian, who tested the suction on her thumb.

  “Oh, very nice,” Valerie said. “I might give up the girlfriend search for this baby.” She waved the Love Bite at her friends. “This is my new girlfriend now!”

  Sasha couldn’t hold in her professional pride. “Plus, it’s waterproof.”

  Sasha’s friend, Robin, had started Lady Robin’s Intimate Implements, a boutique sex toy and lingerie company, as a pop-up shop seven years ago. Sasha had been the whole of the marketing department for the first three years before their company had exploded into a multi-city operation. They supplemented their online and local vendor sales with bridal showers and birthday parties attended by their salaried marketing reps. This was the first book club they’d been commissioned for, as far as Sasha knew. Their company had made Robin, and Sasha by extension, stockings full of cash.

  A blast of wind hit the Winterberry Inn, causing the old house to creak and rattle. Sasha whipped around to see out the big bay window. It was dark out there, and she desperately hoped the expected snow and ice held off until she was home. Her darling baby—a restored 1984 VW Bug—was a disaster on icy roads.

  Valerie, who owned the Winterberry Inn and was definitely the evil mastermind of the Staunchly Raunchy Book Club, called a pause on the proceedings to get everyone mulled wine and spiked eggnog. Sasha took the brief reprieve to glance around the luxurious hearth room. The inn was a cozy bed and breakfast with seemingly endless rooms and Christmas charm in every nook and cranny.

  The hearth room spilled over with Christmas bobbles, garland, boxwood wreaths, and lights. A huge spruce tree, decked out in glittery gold, was activating Sasha’s allergies.
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  Christmas made her itch, even when it was beautiful.

  Maybe especially when it was beautiful.

  Once the book club members were back in their circle of seats, Sasha pulled a paddle out of her bag and pasted on a fake smile.

  “We don’t have a huge variety of impact-play instruments, like crops or whips, but if you’re in the market for that, I can give you suggestions for other vendors. We only have one paddle, but it’s exceptional, if I do say so myself.” She brandished the wooden paddle Robin had created for the holidays. It had a word etched into the wide, flat end. “You can personalize the word, so it could be your name or your partner’s name. Other common words are BABY or SLUT. This is our Christmas edition, you know, if Santa gets you going.”

  The group laughed as she handed off the paddle adorned with the word HO! The book club members had been discussing a BDSM romance novel when she’d arrived, and the group erupted in chatter as they deliberated over whether the characters in the book would have enjoyed such play.

  Sounded like they definitely would have been down.

  Sasha listened to them with half an ear as she removed the last items from her bag. For a perverse second, she wished her roller bag was velvet, like Santa’s, rather than boring nylon. Velvet would match the red dress she’d donned in the hopes of appearing to be a bundle of cheer.

  False cheer, but whatever.

  Once the room quieted down, Sasha displayed her final toys.

  “Last but not least, next month we’re debuting a new line called Prick Me, for the person or persons in your life with dicks and prostates, but we have a bit of stock available for purchase today. Call it a sexy sneak peek.”

  She waved one of the toys—a holly-green cylinder with an opening on one end. “Here is our Fancy Fleshstroker, which comes in twelve diverse skin tones and several fun colors. These have a soft, silky interior and are super easy to clean. We’re also debuting two vibrating prostate massagers of differing shapes, named, quite simply, the P-Spot Pulse and Pulse 2.”

  She held them up and demonstrated how to turn them both on.

  A quiet, earnest-looking white woman named Louise laughed. “This might sound stupid, but can you explain how those work?”

  Sasha smiled, a real one this time, and put her proverbial sex-educator cap on. “So the prostate is a gland in front of the rectum in people born with penises and prostates. It has tons of pleasure sensors, so it can feel good when it’s stimulated. A lot of people with prostates enjoy having theirs touched, and that isn’t specific to certain sexualities. Prostate play can result in some pretty spectacular orgasms. With consent, of course, all you have to do is lube this baby up and insert it into—”

  A big thump resounded almost directly behind her, and she dropped the toys onto the hardwood floor. Somehow, the vibrator on the Pulse 2 was activated on impact, so it buzzed and danced all over the place.

  As she scrambled down to grab the toy, trying not to flash everyone since her holiday dress was short, Valerie shouted, “Perry! What are you doing here?”

  Sasha got the toy turned off before twisting around. There was a man standing in the entryway of the room, a gym bag—evidently full of bricks considering the noise it had made when hitting the ground—by his feet.

  Hot damn.

  He was the type of man who could make her Christmas knickers twist. Tall, lean, pale, with dark curly hair and a beard. Plus, he was staring at her like she was a piece of rum cake.

  She wanted to be his rum cake.

  Double damn.

  He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I drove in a day early to beat the winter storm, which didn’t work. It’s already icy out there. I didn’t expect to walk in on my favorite book club getting a sex-toy demo.” He didn’t take his eyes off Sasha.

  Chuckles filled the room, and Sasha slowly stood up. No one seemed particularly perturbed about being interrupted by this man. Instead, the room was alight with excitement at his arrival. She smoothed her red velvet dress down with one hand while clutching the sex toys in the other. Her stupid antlers jingled.

  Valerie waved an arm dismissively. “Well, you showed up a day early, so …”

  “So?” He was still staring at Sasha, his gaze tracking over her face.

  “So maybe it’s your own fault if your delicate constitution can’t handle talk of prostate massagers,” Sasha said with an extra dose of sass.

  A grin slowly spread across his face, and dear God, he was hotter than she’d realized.

  “Fair assessment. I’m sorry, we’ve never met. I’m Perry Winters.” He finally drew his attention away from her and checked out the members of the Staunchly Raunchy Book Club. “I think I know all the other Raunchies here, but not you.”

  Raunchies? Was that what they called themselves? Because that was adorable.

  He stuck his hand out, and Sasha stumbled on her way over to shake it. His hand was sturdy and huge. Occasionally, Sasha loved the feel of soft, delicate hands, but Perry was making her crave large, strong, and callused.

  “Sasha, and I’m just the sex-toy marketeer.”

  His eyes darkened deliciously at that. “I doubt you’re just anything.”

  “Perry’s my brother,” Valerie said. “He used to be in our book club before he moved to Topeka, like a dweeb.”

  His hand began to slip from Sasha’s, and she jerked her palm from his. They’d held on too long. “You were in this book club?” she asked. He was one of the Raunchies?

  “Yes. I like to read,” he said, as if it were that simple.

  Which, really, it was.

  “That’s awesome,” she said. And sexy. She kept that part to herself.

  “Hey Perry, have you read the newest Minnesota Motorcycle Club book?” asked Andie, a petite black woman. She was wearing an ugly Christmas sweater with kittens on the front and had slapped a nametag on her chest that said, Holiday Pussy. Sasha wanted to be her best friend.

  Perry smiled warmly. “I haven’t. I DNF’ed the last one, but maybe I’ll give the new one a shot,” he said.

  Most of that went over Sasha’s head, so she returned to her seat and sat primly, waiting for the group to calm down again. After the excitement of Perry’s arrival wore off, Sasha looked to Valerie to see if she could continue.

  “Right! Sorry, Sasha. We’ll let you wrap up, then we’ll dive into our game of Dirty Book Dirty Santa.”

  “Sounds good.” Sasha eyed Perry, who’d pulled a folding chair into the circle and was watching her, unconcerned.

  It wouldn’t be the first time she’d hand-sold sex toys to men, but he made her skin prickle. Made her feel squirmy and excited all at once.

  She cleared her throat. “As I was saying, here are our prostate massagers. Use lube.”

  She directed that last comment at Perry. Rosiness rushed up his cheeks above the line of his beard as he smiled. A blusher. Mayday, too cute for words!

  Without stopping to swoon, she continued, “I’ve also got a catalog for lingerie and underthings that you’re welcome to peruse. Our lingerie is size and gender inclusive with a select range of bras, garters, slips, undies, binders, compression gaffs, and strap-on bottoms, all with Lady Robin’s rock-and-roll flair. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

  Louise raised her hand timidly.

  “Yes?”

  Louise bit her lip and glanced at Perry. He was a former Raunchy, so they were probably used to him being present, but Louise was obviously not comfortable asking this question in front of him.

  Perry stood up abruptly. “Oh man, that eggnog smells amazing. I’ll be back.” He rushed toward the breakfast room where the food and drinks were set up. With a smile, Sasha watched his long legs and tight ass waltz from the room.

  He was a blusher and considerate of women’s feelings. She wanted a bite.

  Once he was gone, Louise laughed. “Gosh, sorry. I couldn’t ask this in front of him. Do you have anything in double-F sizing?”

  “Definitely. Everythi
ng, including our bralettes.”

  A few other book club members had questions about sizing and prices as well. As Sasha answered, another huge gust of wind made the house shudder and the lights flicker. She needed to hurry so she could get home before the roads were too treacherous for her Bug.

  “Here are the order forms. I have some stock with me today, but if I don’t have what you want, we guarantee its arrival in five business days anywhere in the continental US. Feel free to check out the items on display. If no one has any questions, I’m going to run to the restroom real quick.”

  Valerie directed Sasha to the closest bathroom in a hallway off the huge, gorgeous kitchen, which was also decorated with all manner of garland and Christmas candles. There was a centerpiece made of a grapevine wreath, red garden roses, and berries on the kitchen island. Sasha stopped and stared at it, her heartbeat in her throat.

  It was eerily similar to the centerpieces she’d made a year ago for her wedding, only a lot fancier. Like a gut punch, it halted her in her tracks. Blood suddenly thundered in her ears, and her stomach pitched, a metallic taste hitting the back of her tongue. She had to squelch the urge to swipe the centerpiece off the counter and hurried out of the room instead.

  Once Sasha was alone in the hallway, she leaned against the wall and tried to slow the frantic patter of her heartbeat. Her phone buzzed in her hand, which was more effective in distracting her than the deep breathing.

  It was a weather alert. They were in a Blizzard Warning.

  Fucking great.

  She also had a text message from her older sister, Rosie.

 

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