Dear Santa: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

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Dear Santa: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance Page 48

by Lulu Pratt


  “Me? You. You’re hot,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice down.

  I’m only barely aware of the fact that we’re technically in a public place, but I’m aware enough not to want to increase the risk of us getting caught.

  Zane finds my clit by touch and begins to rub in tight little circles around the bead of nerves, and my hips move as if they’ve got a mind of their own, twisting and bucking to his touches.

  We lie there for what seems like ages, kissing and touching and teasing each other until we’re dripping with sweat, until I’m soaking wet and my fingers are slick with Zane’s pre-cum.

  “Ready for me?” Zane’s breath is burning hot against my skin, and it’s like I’ve been waiting for him to ask those words for hours. He slides two fingers slowly inside of me and I grab with my free hand at his shoulder, at his back, digging my fingernails in. It feels so good and at the same time it’s not enough.

  “Of course I’m ready for you, you—” I bite my tongue, struggling to keep from screaming as Zane chuckles and slides his fingers out of me. I groan in frustration.

  My insides churn with anticipation as he puts on a condom. But the next moment he pushes my legs wider and I feel the tip of his cock up against my mound, rubbing me slightly before he pushes slowly, oh so slowly, inside of me. My inner muscles flex around him in a spasm, my whole body hungry to feel him completely inside of me. Zane moans against my neck in reaction. He presses forward, letting me feel every inch of him sliding into me, filling me. I almost can’t breathe. It feels even better than it did the first time.

  For a second neither of us move, instead holding absolutely still, and I can feel Zane’s cock twitching inside of me. I hear the harsh breaths against my ears as he struggles for a moment to keep from losing it, and I’m right there with him. I’m not a virgin, but I never imagined it could feel this good.

  “Fuck, Harper. You feel so… fucking… amazing,” Zane says, as he slowly slides almost all the way out of me and then pushes back in, somehow managing to penetrate even deeper than he did the first time, or at least it feels that way.

  We start moving together, slow at first and then gradually gaining speed. I can’t help but notice that we find each other’s rhythm right away, like we’re meant for this.

  “You too,” I manage to get out as Zane reaches down between our bodies and his fingers slide along my folds just above where his cock is filling me, until he reaches my clitoris and begins stroking me in counterpoint to his thrusts.

  It’s almost more than I can stand. I no longer care if we might get caught. It feels too good and the tension mounting, deep down in my hips like a rubber band stretching tighter and tighter, is overwhelming any sense of propriety I might have had.

  I try to hold back, but between Zane’s fingers against my clit and the feeling of him inside me and everything else, it feels like it’s only minutes before I tumble over the edge, moaning against his chest as wave after wave of pleasure washes through me, making every muscle tense and relax in spasms that only seem to get more and more intense by the moment.

  Zane keeps moving, and just as my climax seems to be coming to an end, I feel his whole body tense, feel his cock twitching inside of me even harder than before, and his cock pulses and throbs as he groans, thrusting hard and fast as he hits his climax. At once my orgasm intensifies again. My walls grip him tightly as I cling to him like my life depends on it, gasping and panting for breath between moans as we both give into it.

  I don’t know how long we lie there on the grass recovering. It may be minutes or hours, but I don’t care.

  Eventually, Zane pulls himself up to look down at me, and I can’t help but grin up at him. I feel so good all over, warm and relaxed in a way that I almost never get to feel, with the little bit of a dull ache that I love feeling because it’s related to that bone-deep relaxation.

  I want to keep enjoying this delicious hazy warmth, but I know we have to come to some kind of conclusion, especially since, as I remember, Zane has to leave for base in less than nine hours.

  “We should probably talk about what’s going on between us,” I say, and I hate myself for saying it.

  “Better now than before,” Zane points out.

  I laugh. I have to admit he’s right about that.

  “So what, what is this? Between us? Are we going to hope to meet up whenever we’re both home and fool around like this, or is there something to it?” I try not to feel anxious about what Zane might say, and I don’t know what answer I’m actually dreading more.

  “You said you thought I might be able to take New York,” Zane says, speaking slowly.

  “Oh?” My heart beats faster and I feel like I’m holding my breath even though I know I’m not.

  “I’ve become comfortable in the army. And yeah, I know I can get married there, but I don’t like the way I see serious relationships going on in there. Everyone’s always better off once they leave the service.”

  I nod. I don’t really have anything to say to this, one way or another, I don’t know enough to have an opinion. “So what are you saying, then?”

  Zane goes silent for a long moment and that dread wells up in the pit of my stomach once again. “I’m saying that I think I want to be out of the army, and I think, if you feel like I do right now, maybe I could try to see if I can find something in New York.”

  For a second all I can do is stare at him. Is this really Zane? Does he mean it?

  “You’d leave the army for me?” I both do and don’t want to believe it.

  “I’d leave the army because I can, and because I want to see where this might go,” Zane says.

  “Not specifically for me, though, right?” In my mind all I can see is how terrible it would be if Zane left the army to be with me, and then things didn’t work out between us for some reason, and it would be my fault if he lost years of a good career.

  “Not specifically for you, but you inspired me and that’s a fact,” Zane says. He kisses me on the lips. “I can’t let the girl next door be braver than me, can I?”

  I have to laugh at that. “What are we going to tell my mom? Or your dad?”

  Zane shrugs. “I think for now, we tell them nothing,” he says.

  “How’s that going to work?” I raise an eyebrow at the idea.

  “We’ll both be so far away from our parents that it won’t matter what we’re doing to each other until the next time there’s a big family get-together, so I think we can hide this,” Zane says.

  “And then… I guess, by the time that happens, we would already know if there’s something to it.” I say.

  Zane nods. “That was my thinking. By the time it’s even an issue for anyone, we can either tell them we’re together, period, or that nothing really happened, and it’s none of their business,” he says.

  He kisses me again, and I can tell the difference in it. I can feel his cock starting to harden again. Now that I’m recovered from my previous orgasm I have to admit that just lying there with my body pressed up against Zane’s is enough to make me want to go again, as many times as we can before we need to be back at our parents’ homes.

  “How much time do we have?” Zane chuckles.

  “I think we can fit in one or two more rounds. But this time you’re on top.” He tumbles over onto the grass and maneuvers me onto him and starts kissing me again — my lips, my jaw, my neck.

  “That’s fair,” I say, leaning in for a kiss.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ZANE LEWIS

  FOUR MONTHS LATER

  My head is killing me as I walk out of the gate and towards the flow of traffic through the terminal, looking around.

  Where is she?

  My parents expected me to come straight to them as soon as I accepted my discharge paperwork, but I told them I had a job interview to get to first, and they didn’t question it. They were too proud that I already had a potential job to worry about it that much.

  It’s been months since I
saw Harper in person, and I’m worried for a second that she might be running late, or something might have gone wrong in our plans at the last minute. As I make my way towards the baggage claim, I try to decide if it would be worth it to text her or call her to make sure she’s actually at the airport.

  Just when I’m about to take my phone out of my pocket, I spot her. For a couple of seconds I stop mid-step and just stare at the girl I’ve flown so far to see, to be with. The girl I lied to my parents about, who lied to her parents about me. She looks just as hot as ever, dressed in nothing more than a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and her hair pulled back out of her face.

  Before I know it, I’m almost running to her, through the other people. It’s been hard on both of us, being in different time zones, trying to keep things going, figuring out what we’re both going to do, and all I’ve been able to think of for the last five hours has been how good it will feel to have Harper in my arms again.

  I pick her up off her feet and pull her body up against mine and kiss her. It’s almost like we’ve never kissed before, but also somehow like we’ve done nothing but for the past four months. Harper makes a noise just as our lips connect, and she melts against me, her arms tightening around my shoulders, her tongue wriggling against mine, her lips on me like she’s been starving for weeks and wants to devour me, and I know I’m doing the same to her.

  I finally get to the point where I can make myself put her down, make myself pull back from the kiss, and look at her for a second. Just kissing her has made me start to get hard. I can’t wait to get her alone.

  “You took tomorrow off from work, right?”

  Harper laughs, her cheeks taking on a cute pink flush at what I’m implying.

  “I did, actually. Told them after the last minute rush I need a sick day for my mental health,” Harper tells me, finding my hand without even looking at it and slipping her fingers in between mine.

  “Good. Then we can spend all day just…” I give her a little look and give her hand a squeeze, and Harper’s blush goes darker while she looks away.

  I smirk and start walking towards the baggage claim, pulling her a little closer to me. I don’t even really want to have to share her with the rest of the people watching us. After all the texts we’ve sent each other, after the pictures and the little thirty-second videos back and forth we’ve used to keep things hot between us, I’m almost ready to boil over.

  “Let’s see if we can’t make it out of here without getting in trouble with airport security first,” Harper says, and I laugh again.

  “I’ll flash my army creds and they’ll leave us alone. Nobody’s about to give too much trouble to a member of the military who’s finally out,” I tell her.

  Harper rolls her eyes. “Oh! I meant to tell you before we get too involved in making up for lost time — I might have a job lead for you,” Harper says as we stop at the baggage carousel and wait for the luggage to start coming down.

  Everything I own, except for what’s still at my parents’ place, is down to one big duffel bag. After being in the army for better than six years, I’m not exactly surprised by it, but Harper has been asking for weeks if I’m sure I don’t want her to go ahead and get things for me for the apartment.

  It’s a risk, moving in together right away, and we both know it. But for the first few months, at least, assuming I don’t get a job right off the bat, I’m going to be spending almost as much time back at home with my parents as I am with Harper, especially since they don’t know about us yet.

  “What kind of job?” Part of me is irritated, for a second, at the thought of getting a job through my girlfriend, instead of on my own. But after that flash reaction I realize how thoughtful it is that Harper’s been on the lookout for me, knowing one of my bigger hesitations about leaving the army was the fact that I didn’t know what I could do for work outside the military.

  “It’s with my publishing company, but in the shipping department, not anything at all to do with me,” Harper says.

  The first few bags from the plane start tumbling down the shoot and onto the conveyor belt, and I start looking for my duffel more intently.

  “What would I be doing if I got the job?” I glance at Harper and back at the conveyor belt, and give her hand another quick squeeze.

  Really, for the moment, all I care about is getting her alone as quickly as possible. All I can think about is the last video she sent me, the night before, starting out in nothing but a T-shirt I’d sent her and ending with nothing at all.

  “It’s a management job, which I figure you would make sense for. But I mean, if you don’t want to do it, we can find you something else in the city.”

  The plan, for right now at least, is that I’ll spend a week with Harper, getting a feel for us living together, and go to my parents’ place for at least a week, unless I have a job already on the line. Of course, if I get a job right away, that’s going to change things a bit. But we’ll handle that when we come to it.

  “I’ll check it out, for sure,” I tell her, leaning in to kiss her on the lips quickly. I keep one eye open for my duffel and finally see it, and let go of Harper’s hand to go and grab it so we can get out of the busy airport already and back to her apartment. “How long will it take us to get to your place?”

  “I think this justifies getting a cab, or maybe an Uber,” Harper says, once I’ve got her hand in mine once more.

  “How long?” I give her a little look so she’ll know exactly how important the answer is to me, and Harper giggles.

  “It’s still going to take us about twenty, maybe thirty minutes to get back to my place,” she says.

  I groan. “Seriously? What the hell is wrong with this city?”

  Harper snorts and shakes her head. “Once we’re in Brooklyn, there are like twenty places to eat that are within walking distance, and more than half of them deliver,” she says to me. “We’ll make a city boy out of you yet.”

  “Well, then, lead the way,” I tell her.

  We finally get out of the airport and into the line for taxis, and I watch Harper do her thing to hail a cab, thinking that for the first time I’m actually kind of glad she’s the leader, the one in charge at the moment, instead of me.

  One of these days, I’m going to have to thank my parents for throwing such an involved anniversary party.

  Harper gets one of the cabs to stop in front of us, and I take a deep breath of grungy city air, and follow her.

  EPILOGUE

  HARPER POLSEN

  FIVE YEARS LATER

  “Harper, you’re sure you don’t want to stop and get coffee?”

  I rub at my eyes and shake my head in response to Zane’s question. We got on the road super early to avoid the worst traffic leaving the city, but I’d much rather get some ginger ale than a cup of coffee in my system at the moment.

  “Let’s just get to the house as quickly as we can,” I tell Zane, settling myself in the passenger seat again.

  After five years of living in New York City, Zane still let me drive us out of the city proper before taking over the driver’s seat at our first rest stop.

  “It’s going to be ridiculous, you know that, right?” I grin in spite of the way my stomach is roiling and tumbling inside of me, because Zane is right.

  All four of our parents have been aware that we’re dating since we came home for Christmas together the first year that we started dating. My mom quickly realized how happy Zane made me and what a good relationship we had.

  Any lingering feelings she might have had about my previous visit disappeared quickly and she has never stopped letting me know that she is thrilled I am with someone. I suspect my mom is also thrilled that I am home for the holidays as I don’t need to visit an out-of-town boyfriend’s family.

  But for some reason, both Zane’s parents and mine have continued to insist that we have to stay in our own rooms, separately, whenever we’re both in town.

  “As always. Even if we do get to stun eve
ryone with some news,” I say, sighing.

  Zane knows about the one piece of news that we have for our parents. But he doesn’t know about the other bit of news that I’ve been keeping to myself. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell him today.

  I look down at my hand and half-smile to myself, reasoning that since Zane managed to hide the fact that he was saving up to buy me a ring for a good three months, I can be excused from hiding my own news from him.

  Our parents have no idea, none whatsoever, that we’re engaged. I thought about hiding my ring until we could get all four of them in a room and tell them, but after talking it over with Zane late into the night, we decided that we’ll just tell them as soon as we get there.

  “Let’s get one last little break in before we go on to the houses,” Zane says.

  I look up in confusion for a second as I’m lost in thought to see he’s pointing out where the parking is for the lake. I can’t help but laugh.

  “We have to stop here every time we visit town, don’t we?”

  Zane nods in response to my question, grinning at me unabashedly. “Of course we do. It’s practically the spot of our first date,” he says.

  I shake my head, grinning and closing my eyes even as I blush. “That is not something we are going to admit to anyone, is it?”

  It’s hard to really say what our first date was, it all happened so quickly, but the night we went skinny dipping at the lake stands out as the point when things changed between us. Then too, there’s the fact that it’s the place where we had sex together for the second time. Zane and I have agreed to disagree on the subject of whether our first time together, in his parents’ bathroom, really counts.

  “Why not? We don’t have to tell them what we were doing,” Zane says, even as he begins to pull over to get into the parking lot.

  I smile to myself. Part of me, the part preoccupied with the uneasy state of my stomach, is hoping that Zane won’t want to do anything more than kiss me, but another part of me thinks that it would be nice to once again relive the second time we ever had sex right before we go to see our parents to let them know, officially, how wrong they were about us getting together.

 

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