Bad Santa

by Mia Madison

  It’s freezing outside. Our breath makes clouds in front of our faces, but I’m glad to be out of the muggy warmth of the Christmas party and alone with Rachel, or at least alone with Rachel and the rest of the population of Podminster, gingerly walking over the ice in their party shoes.

  Rachel slips, and I grab onto her, an automatic reaction to prevent her falling. But I don’t let go, and she makes no move to get out from my grasp. We just look at each other. And then I kiss her. Thoroughly. As she deserves to be kissed.

  I wanted to do that all night, but couldn’t because I knew it would be a real get-a-room type kiss when I got the chance.

  Her soft body melts into mine, making me hard, so hard I want to groan into her mouth, but I manage to contain myself—just.

  I take her hand, and we walk on. Neither of us says much. Anything after that kiss seems trite. But then she says. “I wasn’t expecting you to be there today. You didn’t say you knew Lisa at the hospital.”

  “I don’t. Or I didn’t. I met her for the first time there. It was just like she said; Doug invited me. He’s on the same shift as me at the fire station.”

  “Wasn’t the dad at the hospital part of the crew, too?”

  “Yeah, we’re all friends. You’ve got to get along well when you’re relying on each other in a fire.”

  “Where are your family, then, or is that a bad question?”

  “They’re around. Just in Spain. Too far away to visit on Christmas Day when I’m working. Yours?”

  “On a cruise. Without me.”

  “Maybe one day I’ll take you on a cruise without them.”

  She laughs. “I hate boats. I get seasick.”

  “Plane, then. Planes, trains, automobiles. Take your pick.”

  “Train or plane. Either is fine. Not that I travel much, anyway.”

  “You don’t like seeing places?”

  “I do. I just haven’t seen many. It’s the unknown, I think. Lisa says I like to plan everything too much.”

  “Some plans are good. But there’s a lot to be said for things that happen by surprise.” Like meeting her at the party tonight.

  She stops then and turns to me. “This is my building.”

  “Right, then.”

  She hesitates as if she’s unsure, but then she says, “My offer’s still open. You know, of a bed for the night.”

  “Thanks. But I’ll need to get home.”

  She looks more than a little deflated, or am I imagining things?

  “I have a dog. Jackson will be crossing his legs,” I explain, otherwise I’d be taking her up on her room offer, for sure. But I can’t leave Jackson. “How about Tuesday?”

  “Tuesday?”

  “My next day off. We can meet up and make plans for a return visit to the hospital.”

  “Yes,” she says, and to stop myself beaming at her like a geek getting a date with a cheerleader, I kiss her. Thoroughly. Again. And it’s every bit as good as the first kiss. I think my toes curl for the first time ever. Is that a thing that actually happens to toes? What the fuck?

  CHAPTER 9

  Rachel

  I almost skip when I get through the front door of my apartment building and I’m sure Flynn is out of sight. A date with Santa! Who knew he could kiss like that? I’m still feeling the ripples of excitement running through me as he pulled me into his arms, his soft lips taking possession of my mouth. I didn’t want it to end.

  When I left him at the hospital, I imagined briefly how good it would be to be kissed by him, but I never expected to experience it. I rub my lips like I could live it all again from touching my mouth. Crazy woman!

  Tuesday has to be good. No wardrobe malfunctions. No embarrassing gifts. I have to look sexy but sophisticated. It’s the first time I’ve been excited about being single again since Patrick.

  But then I need to make the most of the good times while they last.

  As soon as Flynn finds out what a dead loss I am in bed, he’ll be gone in the blink of an eye, a guy like that. He must be ten or twelve years older than me, and I suspect light years more experienced. With his looks and his easy-going flirty ways, he’s bound to have been with a lot of women—women who are better than me and know what to do to keep a guy like that interested.

  And then I pull myself together. I can be as good as them. I know I can. Maybe there was something wrong with Patrick. Flynn is sexier, for sure. I never reacted to a kiss like that before. The kiss went right down into my panties.

  Lisa and her gift! I’m going to kill her, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea… and I giggle. After Flynn’s kisses, I might just need that Star Wars light saber tonight after all.

  *

  Flynn picks me up from my place on Tuesday.

  “Nice wheels.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure they appreciate the compliment.” He laughs. “I just like that they get me from A to B. I’ve never been into cars.”

  “What are you into?”

  “That would be telling.” He smiles.

  “I thought as much.”

  “Actually, music. I used to have aspirations of playing in a band when I was fifteen. That dream never left me.”

  “But you didn’t? You don’t play in a band now? Casually, I mean.”

  “Have you ever heard me sing or play guitar?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s just say you don’t want to. I’m good at air guitar, though. I’m up there with the greats. Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton…”

  “I’m good at air drums. So there you go. Ringo Starr has nothing on me. We could have a band as long as we mouth all the words.”

  Dinner is fun. Not one of those romantic and way-over-the-top-expensive places that might have made me tongue tied on a first date, but a little place he knows out of town where the walls are covered in jokes and memes we can comment on and laugh.

  We are still there enjoying our coffee when we notice everyone else has left.

  “I guess we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” Flynn says.

  I reach for my purse when the check comes.

  “No, my treat. No fighting over who pays. That’s my first rule in dating,” he says.

  “What’s your second?”

  “No expectations other than having a good time.”

  “And did you get that?”

  “I got much more.”

  He helps me on with my coat and opens the car door for me. Then he turns and kisses me before I get in.

  I get lost in the kiss, his body pressed against mine, breathing in the subtle woody notes of his cologne, my insides all gooey remembering his words: “I got much more.”

  There’s no hesitation in that kiss, from him or from me, as if there’s no doubt this is exactly what was supposed to happen between us. When we break apart, our breathing is ragged, but we’re both smiling like Cheshire cats.

  “I’ll take you home,” he says, and kisses the end of my nose.

  CHAPTER 10

  Flynn

  “Do you need to get home to your dog?” Rachel asks when we arrive back at her building and I stop the car. “You could just stay for coffee.”

  “I took him out before I left. He’ll be okay. Mine’s black no sugar.”

  “I know. We just had coffee at the restaurant. Or are you talking about your dog?” She laughs.

  “Both. Jackson’s a black retriever. He doesn’t take sugar in his coffee, either.”

  I’m talking a whole load of crap, but it doesn’t seem to be putting her off. I don’t usually care what I say. How come I do now?

  But I know why. I want this woman. I want her more than I’ve wanted anyone else.

  We go up to her apartment. It’s small, but warm and welcoming. I know already a onetime visit will never be enough, and it’s not because of her décor, nice though it is with pale walls and furniture with colorful touches of pictures and cushions and plants. I like her style, but that’s not my thing. She’s my thing.

  I kiss her in the ki
tchen before she even gets the coffee made. I can tell she’s nervous, as she gathers cups and fills the machine, water sloshing everywhere.

  “You really want coffee?” I ask.

  She looks up at me, and the kiss happens before she answers. I can’t get enough of her, the scent of her hair, her perfume, her soft body so perfect against mine. I’m so hard against her. I’m sure she must feel how much I want her, but I sense I have to go easy here.

  “No coffee, then,” she says. “A drink? I have some wine.”

  “I’d better not. I have to drive home.” I hope she’ll ask me to stay, but she doesn’t. Whatever, any time I spend with her is good. I just can’t help wanting more.

  “Peach and mango flavored water coming up then,” she says and laughs, taking the bottle out of the fridge. I let her pour it, add ice and put the bottle back, and then I take a drink of it before I kiss her again.

  “Mmmh, peaches and mangoes and you. Perfect.” My lips are cold against hers, and they want to explore not just her mouth, but the whole of her. I plant a row of kisses down the side of her neck, her skin so soft, and she melts again me, a soft moan escaping her throat.

  CHAPTER 11

  Rachel

  I feel my breath hitch as Flynn kisses me. When his eyes look up into mine from where he’s trailing a path of cold kisses along the side of my neck, I feel a buzz all the way to my core. Before I know it, my hands are exploring his body, pulling his shirt from his jeans, touching the smooth skin of his back—anything to get closer to him—giving him silent permission to do the same to me. And that’s not lost on him. His hands venture beneath my sweater, my blouse. I want his mouth to follow where his fingers stroke and tease.

  His lips find mine again, and then he slowly lifts off my sweater and button by button unfastens my blouse, his eyes searching to see if I’m going to object.

  Maybe I should, but I don’t. I don’t want to. Not even close. My insides are clenching with need.

  “So beautiful,” he says, and whether it’s a line or not, I believe right at that moment he’s saying exactly what he thinks from the way he’s looking at me, touching me, stroking my hardened nipples through the thin white satin fabric of my bra.

  “So dry,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

  Dry? What? I’m anything but dry.

  But then he dips his fingers in the clear, peach-mango water and runs them over my stiffened peaks poking through the satin, flicking and gently pinching until I’m ready to beg for him to do more than tease me with his fingers and icy cold water.

  He bends his head and sucks at my nipple through the bra, the heat of his mouth overwhelming after the cold. I grasp onto the kitchen counter for support, my hips trying to grind against him. Who knew a kiss in the kitchen could turn into this?

  It doesn’t end there. How could it? When he pulls the cup of my bra down to reveal my breast, all I can think is yes, I want him to look at me. I want his mouth on me. I want him inside me. Now.

  But Flynn appears to be in no hurry, though when he looks up it’s clear he’s as much in need as me. Without taking his eyes off me, he licks my nipple with the whole length of his tongue before taking me into his mouth and sucking so hard I almost combust.

  I’m making so much noise I hardly believe it’s me, meaningless sounds of desire coming from my throat I’ve got no control over. I seriously want to pull every stitch of clothing off us both and have him take me right there on the kitchen counter. I pull at his shirt, at his belt.

  “All in good time,” he says, stilling my hands before unfastening my bra and my jeans and pulling them off, along with my shoes, my socks—everything but my white satin panties. I stand there in my kitchen, mostly naked, watching him watch me while he’s fully dressed, just a little disheveled from me pulling at his clothes and my fingers in his hair.

  He’s not touching me yet I’ve never felt so wanted, so desirable, so female. It’s the way he looks at me, and the roughness in his voice as he says, “Perfect.”

  I know I’m anything but, but I feel it right now, standing here.

  He reaches out and runs two fingers over the front of my panties, down to the crotch. I gasp. I know the white fabric is soaking, probably almost see-through. That is all his doing.

  “Not dry here,” he says, and despite what we’re doing, what we’re about to do, I blush. “But hot,” he says. “Too hot.”

  “Very hot,” I agree. “Too many clothes.”

  But he doesn’t yank off my panties as I want him to. No, he scoops a shard of melting ice from his glass and lifts me onto the kitchen counter, moving between my legs and bending to flick the cold hard edge over the wet heat of my underwear, teasing my engorged nub, already desperate for more.

  So help me, I think a growl sound comes from my throat. “Oh god, Flynn. Fuck me.”

  I never begged before, but I beg now. If he doesn’t do something I will melt into a big puddle on the kitchen workspace.

  He smiles up at me, his eyes full of a heady mix of desire and mischief, and pulls the crotch of my panties to one side.

  His tongue comes out, and he takes a lick, a tiny lick.

  I’m dying here. Lifting my hips. Pushing myself at his face.

  He swirls his tongue around, savoring the moment of my desperation, and then he takes my clit between his lips and sucks, his teeth raking softly over it, and I cry out so loudly I think another, more sexual, less inhibited Rachel has taken over my body. And before I come fully down and my limbs are still feeling the aftershock, he sucks hard again, and I scream out once more.

  CHAPTER 12

  Flynn

  This woman is so fucking sexy, she’ll drive me insane. I pride myself on being able to wait, giving, not grasping, but she tests my patience to the extreme. I want her so much I’m hard, ready to burst if I don’t have her. I have to calm myself. Think drains. Think amoebas. Think ice cold. No, not ice. I just thought ice, and that didn’t help at all.

  She’s responsive, gorgeous, great company—everything in one woman, I never thought I’d find anyone like her. Just like I said, perfect!

  I lift her off the kitchen counter and hold her in my arms. I’m going to fuck her, fuck her hard until neither of us can stand, never mind walk, but not here. Not in the kitchen, not the first time I take her, anyway. That’s going to be in a soft bed, where I can keep her in my arms all night long and wake up with her. And fuck her all over again.

  She melts against me, her soft breasts, her gently-rounded stomach, the sweet aroma coming from her that I can still taste on my lips. I kiss her hair.

  “Bed?” I say. There’s a question in my voice, but is there any doubt about the answer, the way she begged me? I don’t think so.

  “Yes,” she says. “Bed. That’s along here.”

  She looks about as if she’s not quite sure where she is. And I love I did that to her. And now I want to take her so hard she forgets not just where she is, but her own name, too.

  I take her hand then, but my cellphone buzzes in my pocket, and I answer it automatically.

  I should have just left it, but I’m glad I didn’t. Well, not glad exactly, but it’s just as well I take the call. There’s a change in Robbie’s condition, and Paul has to go to the hospital. He asks me if I can take on his shift and offers to swap for one of mine. I tell him I’ll do it anyway, and there’s no need to swap.

  “You’ve got to go?” Rachel asks. I can see she’s upset, but I think she can tell it’s serious.

  “Yes. Sorry. I’m needed at the station. Paul has to go to the hospital. It’s Robbie again.”

  “Poor kid. And his family. I’m sorry you have to go, though. Really sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too.” More than I’ll ever let on. “Raincheck?”

  “Yes.” She smiles. She has to know I want to see her again after this. Nothing will keep me away.

  “How about I pick you up and take you down to the beach tomorrow after I get off work? I’ll take Jackson
. And we can grab a bite to eat.”

  “I’d like that. But what about you? How will you get any sleep?”

  “It should be okay as long as it’s a quiet night at work. We usually manage to get a few hours’ sleep on shifts like that.” I don’t tell her I’ll be there even if I don’t sleep a wink.

  We go into the living room, and I grab my coat from the couch where we threw our jackets when we came in, and give her a hug, her soft breasts against the rough wool of my coat. And then I wrap her in the soft blanket strewn over the couch and drag myself away.

  CHAPTER 13

  Rachel

  I lie on the couch for ages before I get up, still wrapped in the soft throw Flynn tucked around me. I can’t stop smiling like an idiot at the picture of him in my mind, remembering how he was with me.

  It feels like next year is going to be a good year now. I was dreading it—my cancelled Valentine’s Day wedding overshadowing everything—and now that date means nothing at all.

  I don’t believe in fate very much, but maybe all the unhappiness of the past few months was supposed to happen so I could meet Flynn.

  I call Lisa.

  “How was your night out?” she asks. “I’ve been dying to call you, but I thought you might still be mid-date.”

  “It was great, the best, but Flynn had to go into the station to cover for his friend. Did you know Robbie was worse?”

  “Yes, but I can’t really talk about it. Patient confidentiality and all.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I invited Flynn in for coffee before he had to go.”

  “You did? You dark horse, Rachel Barnes.”

  “I was going to ask him to stay the night.”

  “Hallelujah.” Lisa laughs.

  “I thought you’d like that.” I smile at the phone. “You’ve been telling me to let my hair down for ages.”

  “I’m really glad you’re going out and having fun, but don’t get too attached to him too soon. I don’t want you getting hurt again.”