by Jenny Plumb
Then Shane chuckled, snapping her out of her reverie. “Naughty girls get their bottoms smacked, don’t they?”
He held her in his arms and stood up, carrying her out of the room, away from her family. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers getting lost in his fluffy red Santa suit. She giggled as his fake beard tickled her face.
Once in his bedroom, he kicked the door shut with a bang, turning briefly to lock it, before sitting down on his perfectly made bed. The creaseless bed just more evidence that he was pure military discipline to the core.
He hauled her across his lap. “This is what happens to naughty girls,” he said, chuckling, yanking her pants down to mid-thigh, baring her bottom. He swatted her bottom lightly, making her yelp.
Swatting her lightly again, he trailed his fingers down the cleft of her bottom, teasing her pussy lips, rubbing her clit gently. With another light spank, he set her on her feet.
Ripping off his Santa suit and discarding it carelessly on the floor, he stood in front of her wearing nothing but black satin boxers. Her breath caught in his throat as she took him in. He was one fine specimen of manhood.
His fingers went to her waist, lifting up her shirt and she felt a stirring between her legs and an aching tightness in her breasts.
His eyes met hers. His dark eyes were sparking with passion and his breathing was ragged; just like hers.
He slid her shirt off over her head, gently unhooking her bra. When he’d freed her breasts his mouth went to her nipple, tasting, teasing, licking, nibbling… sparks zinged through her body as he rolled her one nipple between his fingers and held the other one in his hot mouth. She gasped at the sensations that ripped through her body.
Lifting her gently, he carried her to the bed and tenderly lay her down, holding his body on top of hers, supporting his body on his elbows as he braced himself above her, kissing his way from her throat down to her navel with feather-light kisses that made her shiver with desire.
When he got to her hips he slid his fingers beneath the waistband and shimmied her pants all the way down her legs, pulling them down off her feet and throwing them onto the pile of clothing on the floor. Sitting up, she tugged his boxers down his thighs, freeing his erection. He was huge! Lowering her mouth to his cock, she took it in her mouth, sucking hard, before she licked her way up and down his shaft, swirling her tongue around the very tip. Shane groaned, embedded his fingers in her hair and tugged.
“That feels so good, babe,” he moaned.
She kissed her way down his length again, then he pushed her backwards onto the bed.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, rubbing his hand against her clit.
“I want to feel you inside me,” she breathed. “Now. I need you, now.”
“You are a naughty girl!” he teased, grinning. “But are you sure?” he asked. “Because if you’re not…”
“I’m sure.”
Shane didn’t need any more encouragement. Reaching into the bedside drawer he pulled out a small foil package and sheathed himself quickly.
“Still sure?” he asked, lowering his lips to her nipple again.
“Still sure.”
“I love how naughty you are,” he whispered huskily, nuzzling her neck, the stubble on his jaw scratching her chin.
She gasped as he entered her, his girth stretching her wide. His hips moved slowly, lazily, as his cock filled her, and she raked her nails down his back urgently as his thrusts increased in tempo.
“What a way to spend Christmas Eve,” Virginia ground out on a moan as she tightened her grip with her legs around his back and rocked her hips in time with his.
“I reckon,” Shane agreed, kissing her throat.
She pulled his face down towards her, kissing him hungrily, as they rode the waves of ecstasy together, their hips moving perfect unison, their bodies joining together so well. Shane’s body against hers, his cock inside her, felt so right. Like they were made for each other.
She called out his name as she came and she felt Shane spasm just before she felt the condom fill with his hot seed. He collapsed on top of her, panting.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispered. “That’s certainly one to remember.”
“Merry Christmas my naughty little brat,” a husky voice whispered in her ear.
She opened her eyes to find herself in Shane’s bed, his arm around her, pulling her close. Her pussy was aching and sore this morning; Shane was huge, and she was a bit out of practice.
“Merry Christmas my hunky bodyguard,” she whispered back, kissing his nose. “I need coffee.”
“Coming right up.” Throwing back the covers, Shane got out of bed and she watched, still impressed by his spectacular body, as he pulled on his jeans, not bothering with a shirt. Now that he knew she was safe here, in this quiet, respectable neighbourhood, it wasn’t so important that he constantly look the part of personal security and dress from head to toe in black, always alert for danger.
By the time Shane returned with steaming mugs of coffee, she’d retrieved yesterday’s clothes from the pile on the floor, pulled them on and was sitting on his bed waiting for him.
He passed her the hot cup. “Everyone’s up,” he told her. “Come on, you’re missing out on all the fun!”
Christmas morning at Nan and Pop’s house was quite unlike Christmas morning with her father. The noise was one thing she was unaccustomed to. The kids, already on a sugar high from the chocolate and lollies in the stockings, were racing around the house and yard playing with their new toys and chasing each other with water pistols and nerf guns. The adults were sitting outside in the sun drinking coffee and nibbling on platters of cherries.
They exchanged presents; mostly small gifts of boxes of chocolates, soap and fragrance box sets, books and cute stationery. Nan had explained their family tradition of keeping to under $25 for each present, so everybody was able to receive something small. Nothing was extravagant; it felt so different, but so nice.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, she pulled it out. Daddy!
“Merry Christmas, princess,” his familiar voice boomed down the phone. “Are you having a good time?”
She didn’t even need to hesitate as she answered. “I am, Daddy. I really am!”
Christmas dinner was a huge feast. Shane taught her how to peel potatoes, so she was even able to contribute to the preparation somewhat, which made the meal that much more enjoyable.
There was ham and chicken, a huge assortment of salads, steamed potatoes tossed in butter and parsley, and platters of cherries spread over the table.
Dessert followed: a huge pavlova decorated with whipped cream and strawberries, a big bowl of fruit salad and Nan’s special trifle. Virginia ate until she was so full she could barely move.
“Are you coming camping with us?” one of Virginia’s cousins asked after lunch. “We take tents and go up to the beach, it’s great!”
Virginia smiled. Nan and Pop had always gone too, years ago. She’d only been little, then, but she could still remember it. A pang of sadness pierced her heart briefly as she thought of the childhood she’d missed out on with her cousins, growing up in Hollywood. She might have had more money and luxury than the rest of the family combined, but she didn’t think that her childhood had been any happier.
Virginia turned to Nan. “Are you coming?”
Nan shook her head. “We’re too old for sleeping on the ground now. You young ones go and have a good time.”
She turned to Shane. “You’ll come too, right?”
He nodded.
“And you’ll help me? You’ll scold me for being a spoilt princess when I complain about the hard ground under my deflating blow-up bed?”
He grinned, nodding. “You think you’re up for it?”
She reached for his hand. “With you by my side, I’m up for anything. But one thing – I’m driving.”
Shane shook his head. “Nope, that’s one thing you will not be doing.”
&nbs
p; She pouted. “Meanie.”
“You are so cute when you pout, my naughty brat,” Shane whispered in her ear.
It was the perfect Christmas. The sun was hot, her entire family aside from her father was with her, and she felt relaxed and happy.
She was lying on a lounger beside the pool with her cousins, drooling as Shane stripped off his shirt and dived into the pool wearing just board shorts.
“He’s so ripped!” one of the girls commented.
“I love the tats,” another gushed.
“Your boyfriend is so hot! Where did you meet him?” another cousin, one that had only arrived that morning, asked.
Virginia snorted. “He’s my bodyguard, not my boyfriend. My father hired him.”
“Nah, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, he’s your boyfriend,” she teased, winking, and the other girls agreed.
Virginia felt herself blush. She couldn’t argue. After last night, he probably had risen to ‘boyfriend’ status. Their relationship had moved rather quickly, but she supposed that was to be expected, considering they’d been spending 24 hours a day with each other. He’d seen her at her worst and he still cared.
She held her breath, awed, as Shane rose up out of the water like a demigod, droplets flying everywhere as he shook his head. The metal dog tag he wore on a heavy silver chain nestled snugly on his tattooed pecs and his muscles rippled in the sun as he moved. He had a wicked grin in his eye as he climbed out of the pool and approached the girls, dripping water with every step.
“Fancy a swim, babe?” he asked, moving so fast he’d swung her up into his arms before she could react.
She squealed, flinging her arms around his neck as he ran across the courtyard with her then leaped into the pool, still holding her. She held her breath as they disappeared beneath the surface of the water and came up, spluttering and laughing, to the cheers of her cousins.
Shane scrambled out, then hauled her out and handed her a towel, wrapping one around his waist but leaving his muscular torso free.
Her cousins came running over, one of them holding a bunch of plastic mistletoe. Dragging a deck chair over, they climbed onto it, so they were high enough to hold the mistletoe above Shane’s head.
“Kiss!” the girls shouted. “This is mistletoe, you have to kiss!”
Smiling so wide she thought her face would split in half she met Shane’s outstretched arms, wrapping her legs around his hips as he lifted her off her feet. She tightened her arms around his neck as he cupped her bottom with one hand and caressed the back of her head with the other as he pulled her face down to meet his. Their eyes locked a second before their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss.
They broke apart to see the entire extended family crowded around the pool, cheering and clapping.
“Merry Christmas, babe,” Shane murmured, kissing her again.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispered back.
And it was.
The End.
About the Author
Kelly Dawson
Kelly Dawson loves anything to do with horses, rodeos and cowboys, and loves to get lost in a good book – preferably one containing spanking!
A life-long closet-spanko, Kelly started writing spanking stories on every spare scrap of paper in the house as a child. So when she discovered the internet and spanking romance along with it, she was most excited. But it took her a good decade of devouring these stories before she got up the courage to submit her own. And now, here she is, seven books later, with a plethora of ideas still to write!
She lives literally at the bottom of the world in the South Island of New Zealand, with her husband, four kids, a dog and a cat.
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Don’t miss these exciting titles by Kelly Dawson and Blushing Books!
Rachel's Journey
Bracken Ridge
Spending Christmas with Jessica
Paige Mallory
Chapter 1
December 22, 1873
Victor Bodey was relieved that his sweet little mother was out of town for the holidays. She was visiting with his Aunt Laurie. He would join them in Bigsby for Christmas dinner, but for now he was keeping the peace in Guthrie. Christmas was supposed to be a blessed time of year, honoring Jesus’ birth, but the Ames Gang was more interested in stealing the town blind, and snatching two or three girls to warm their beds while they took refuge from the winter in their hideout. Victor wasn’t going to allow that to happen. When he pinned on his badge two years earlier, he’d promised to keep the town and its people safe. He’d been doing pretty darn well at that so far, and he intended to continue in the same vein, keeping his town safe for all its residents.
Just before midnight on December 22, 1873, the Ames Gang rode into town and Susie Baker’s screams reached Victor’s ears. He ran to help her, and realized too late that it was a trap. Mortimer Ames was waiting to gun him down and Victor Bodey died that night.
December 22, 2016
It was late and Jessica Cosgrove was tired as she reached home. She wanted to lock up her weapons, take off her uniform and unpin her hair. Tomorrow would be another long day because the holidays tended to bring out the crazies. Their police force was short-handed due to all the budget cuts the town council thought it prudent to make, but the taxpayers still expected the same protection as always. The Chief of Police was caught between a rock and a hard place. He was working his police officers long hours, and paying more overtime. It was the holidays, and the mayor wanted Guthrie to be the perfect picture of peace and goodwill to all. Jess needed her paycheck, so she didn’t protest the overtime. It wasn’t like she had a husband, or even a boyfriend to care about her. What she did have was parents, nine siblings – some of whom were married or had significant others – and twenty-seven nieces and nephews to buy fabulous Christmas presents for. The extra money for overtime would help – unless she was too darn tired to go shopping in the next couple of days.
Jess was ready to climb the steps to her front porch when she heard a loud moan coming from the side yard. Alert as could be, she drew her gun to go and investigate. She had managed to make a couple of enemies since becoming a police officer, and she was going to proceed with caution. She made her way as quietly as possible around the corner of the house, thankful she could see well in the dark. She heard another groan of pain and to her surprise, she found a very large man lying there on the ground. “Sir, are you all right?” she asked, assuming he was drunk.
“No. I was shot. Get Doc Prentiss.”
“I’ll call for a bus to take you to the hospital.”
“No! I don’t want to die!”
“Who are you? Do you have some ID?”
“I’m the sheriff of Guthrie, Wyoming.”
“I happen to know the sheriff of Guthrie, and you are not him. Can you stand?” The man had to be drunk.
“I am the sheriff; I was shot, ma’am. Please get Doc.” The man’s speech was too clear for him to be a drunk.
“Who shot you? Did you get a look at them?”
“It was the Ames Gang. They abducted Susie Baker. I tried to save her, but they were waiting for me.”
Jess knew the history of Guthrie as well as any other citizen who was raised in the town. Everyone knew that the Ames Gang took Susie Baker, and the sheriff was nowhere to be found in the town. Some people thought he was murdered and his body disposed of. Others said the Ames Gang gave him money to leave town.
Jess’s fir
st thought was that her buddies on the force were playing a practical joke on her. She decided to go along with the joke until she could think of a way to turn it around on the others. “Okay, Sheriff. Let’s get you inside so I can tend your wounds.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Are you new here? I don’t recognize your voice.”
“I have lived here my whole and entire life.” She helped him up, surprised at the size of the man! Next to him, she looked fragile and petite, neither of which were true. Jess was wary of taking a stranger inside her home, but she had her gun, and she knew how to use it if this were anything other than a practical joke. “Here we are. Have a seat.”
She watched him move toward a chair, and then he stopped and looked at her in confusion. “What place is this? Nothing is familiar to me.” His eyes widened as he looked at her. “Why are you dressed in men’s clothing?”
“I am wearing my uniform. I am a police officer, and I think a few of the boys are playing a gag on me. You can tell me; I won’t arrest you for silliness.”
“I am not playing a prank on you.” He was looking around him with eyes full of mistrust. “What is this place? Nothing looks right.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t like the shade of paint I picked?” she asked in good humor. “My sister absolutely hates it. I told her she could repaint it for me as a Christmas present. Why are you wearing a costume? Surely the guys didn’t think I would believe your story that you are a sheriff from 1873?”
“I am the sheriff of Guthrie. My wounds are gone!” he declared. “Mort Ames shot me at least three times, and yet, there is no pain at all.” He looked her quite funny, then asked, “I think I am beginning to understand; I am dead and in Heaven?”
