by Sarah Spade
This Christmas
Sarah Spade
Contents
I. Last Christmas
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
II. This Christmas
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
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Part I
Last Christmas
Chapter 1
Max
She has tinsel in her hair.
It’s a good thing that I’m sitting behind her, nursing my drink. I’ve been staring for far longer than I should. By now, she would’ve either flagged down the bartender to move her seat or called the manager to have my sorry ass booted out of here if she caught onto it.
I can’t help it, though. Every time she moves, her long blonde hair sways and a sparkle catches my eye. Considering it’s Christmas Eve, the decoration is suitable, and I probably shouldn’t be so surprised to see it. But I am, and it’s enticing, and I know it’s not only the tinsel that has me watching her back.
I’m sitting in a place called the Grand Crown Taproom. It’s a classy bar. Quiet. I get the feeling it’s like this most nights, with friends and regulars mingling at the bar, sharing a quick drink, maybe having some fancy hors d'oeuvres before going home for the night.
Since I’ve been snowed in, my flight home for Christmas cancelled, the only bed I’m returning to is a lonely hotel cal king. It’s why I don’t mind spending my evening in the comfort of this cozy venue. With a bunch of people drinking around me, I’m not exactly alone.
Most of the patrons are in a group. There’s a trio of businessmen, about twenty years older than me, who are speaking softly to each other over their Sam Adams Boston lagers.
Two elderly couples look like they’re on a double date, with the men wearing matching red bowties and the women dressed up in their Christmas best.
In fact, the only one I see sitting alone is the blonde seated about four stools down from me. She’s perched on an angle, her body turned so that she can watch the TV mounted high above the bar. It’s playing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and she’s been glued to the screen since I got here.
I’ve been slyly watching her for just as long.
There’s enough about her that keeps me looking. From my stool, I can see that she has a slender frame yet her tits have got to be big enough for me to cup in my hands.
Oh, yeah.
And she might be tall, I don’t know, but I’m betting on it because the legs wrapped in those tight white leggings look like they’ve got to be a mile long.
Sipping on my rum and Coke, all I can do is stare and wonder what it would feel like if I had those majestic beauties wrapped around my waist. My imagination comes to life just as my cock does. I feel it start to thicken, start to grow, and I reach down to give it a discreet adjustment when, all of a sudden, Rudolph comes to an end.
As the credits roll, she turns in her seat and, just like that, our eyes lock.
I take in a breath. My hand is still on my crotch.
Holy shit. She’s gorgeous.
Because of her beautifully fair features and that nose with its delicate slope, she reminds me of a sculpted doll. Her green eyes are big and round and absolutely stunning. They also seem to be shining, glazed over with tears.
She’s smiling, though, and I figure she’s feeling emotional over the happy ending of the Christmas classic.
Then she does the last thing I expect.
Her eyes never leave mine as she slips off her seat, abandoning her drink before joining me at my side of the bar counter. I just manage to take my hand off my twitching cock and rest it on the empty stool before she stops a few inches away from me.
“Hi.” Her voice is soft and sweet. It suits her perfectly. “Anyone sitting here?”
“Hello, and no. It’s empty.” Then, out of habit, I add, “My name’s Nick.”
I never give my real name out unless the person is expecting Max Dennis. I just don’t. After running a successful business all these years, I’ve learned that people expect too much when they learn the wealth and the power you have.
We have a branch here in Salem. Better safe than sorry.
She slides easily on the stool beside me. “I’m Mary.”
She’s still wearing that welcoming smile as she tilts her head. Now that the movie is over and the credits are winding down, the soft music being piped into the bar has switched into something a little louder. And a lot more festive.
Mary laughs. “I love this song!”
They’re playing “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”. It’s a slower version, more jazzed up than the old rockabilly version I remember from my childhood, but it’s the recognizable Christmas tune all the same.
I offer a tight-lipped smile in return. I… I kinda can’t stand Christmas music.
And then Mary hops off of her stool—her tight green sweater giving me a view that has my cock punching to life the rest of the way—and holds her hands out to me. “Want to dance, Nick?”
At that moment, I’d rather swallow lumps of coal than admit that this music makes it feel like my ears are bleeding. If it means getting the chance to touch this woman, spend some time with her, maybe figure out a way to make my move… fuck, yeah, I want to dance.
There are two other couples swaying on the makeshift dance floor. It’s off to the side of the bar, in one of the darker corners, away from where the rest of the patrons are nursing their Christmas cocktails at separate tables. Considering the slacks on my traveling suit aren’t loose enough to hide exactly how Mary is affecting me, slipping off into the darker part of the bar is probably a good idea.
She lets me wrap her up in my arms, in an embrace that’s probably way too inappropriate for the pace of this song. Don’t care. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this much attraction for a woman, especially when it’s basically lust at first sight. The fact that she’s feeling it, too?
Let’s do this.
Except, as she lifts her head up to look at me, singing along softly to the end of the song, I get a little bit concerned. I thought her eyes were watery because she was crying at the end of the movie. Happy tears, but tears all the same. Up close, they still look glossy.
My stomach sinks. My poor cock wants to protest what I’m about to say, but I silently hush it. As much as I want this woman, I won’t take her if she’s not sober enough to consent.
“Have you been drinking tonight?”
She blinks. “Well, yes. Of course.”
Damn it. “Okay,” I say, and back away so there’s enough space separating us that I can get myself under control.
“What—where are you going?”
I try to let her down gently. If I play my cards right, I can still get her number, maybe see her after Christmas. For this woman, I’d gladly postpone my flight home. If the airport opens, fuck it. I’m not about to let this chance slip through my fingers.
“I want this to happen,” I say, gesturing between her tempting chest and my heaving one. So I’m not in as much control as I’d like. I push on. “I really do. But maybe we can wait until you’re sober enough to decide if you’re as into this as I am.”
It takes her a second to understand that I’m not rejecting her. The puzzled look on her beautiful face transforms into one of humor. Her lips quirk into a beautiful smile, her eyes so very dazzling. When she laughs, I swear, I’ve never seen anything lovelier.
“Oh,
no. I’m sorry—I think I took you a little too literally. Have I been drinking? Of course. You can’t sit at a bar without something in front of you, silly. But it’s not alcohol. I’ve been sipping on virgin margaritas all night.”
That one word, even in an innocent context, makes my cock pulse. “Really?”
She giggles. “Honest. But maybe you’re the one we should be worrying about. You sure you’re clear-headed enough to make decisions?”
“I’m fine,” I say hurriedly. “Want me to prove it? I can do my ABC’s backwards, walk a line, anything.”
Closing the gap between us, she picks up my hands and wraps them around her trim waist. “Just dance with me. And if anything happens after that, we’ll both know that we made the right choice.”
Dance with her. I can do that. And if I do it right? I’ll consider it foreplay.
Mary snuggles up against me. We’re a perfect fit.
The music slows down some more. I whisper my thank you’s to whoever’s controlling this Christmas Eve playlist as Mary clings tighter to me, swaying gently to “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”. I’m almost positive she’s humming along under her breath, and when the vibration and the heat of her hums hits me, it’s all I can do not to throw money at the bartender and carry her back to my hotel room.
And then, suddenly, the image of her glossy green eyes pops up in my memory and I hear myself murmuring, “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you crying?”
There goes my conscience again. There’s… there’s something about her. I don’t know why, but she seems special. I won’t—I can’t take advantage of this beauty. What if she was stood up on Christmas? Some idiot boyfriend screwed up with her gift and she was sulking at the bar?
Shit.
And my sister thinks she’s the one with the overactive imagination.
I’m holding my breath as she nuzzles into my chest. She takes her time in answering me and I feel my eagerness die a small death with every second that passes. Maybe my reminder about her earlier tears is enough to shake her out of this precious moment in time we have together.
With a soft exhale, she admits, “I wasn’t crying because I was upset or anything. It might sound terrible, but my emotions got the better of me because I was relieved.”
“Relieved?” She thinks she’s relieved? I’m about to do fucking cartwheels. Tomorrow, I’ll worry about how much this beautiful stranger has affected me so soon. But that’s tomorrow. We still have tonight. “Why is that a terrible thing?”
She pulls her cheek from my chest, tilting her head back so that she’s looking me in the eye. “Can I tell you, Nick? Will you understand?”
Oof. That guileless expression mixed with that name—that stings. For the first time ever, I wish I introduced myself with my real name. I might understand what she wants to tell me, but will she ever understand that I lied to her with the first words I said?
I give her my most winning grin. “Always, Mary.”
“I’m relieved that it’s Christmas Eve and my parents had to head out early this morning to try and beat the storm. They’re driving back to Florida instead of spending Christmas with me, and I’m so damn happy about it that it makes me tear up.”
Well. Not what I was expecting, but at least she’s happy.
“Don’t get along with your folks?” I ask.
“Just the opposite,” she tells me. “That’s why it’s so terrible. I love my parents but…”
I get it. I imagine it’s how Dani feels about me butting into her life. It’s an older brother’s privilege—just like a parent’s—but I get it.
“They’re a handful,” I supply.
“Yes! I love them, but, God, they are a handful.”
“Well, then, I’m glad they’re gone, too.” When she raises her eyebrows up at me, I thrust my hips a little so that she can feel the wood I’m sporting down below. “If they were still here, you wouldn’t be, and I would be very, very lonely.”
Mary’s eyes widen for a second before she bites down on her bottom lip. She doesn’t pull away from me, keeping her heat close enough that I can’t help but notice just how thin those leggings are, but there’s a touch of hesitation that wasn’t there before.
Then she looks up at me and says softly, “What about you? No wife? No family?,” and I understand why.
I have a family, but they’re all back in California, and they’d be happy for me if they knew how I was spending my Christmas Eve now that I’ve met Mary. Besides, my parents figure their thirty-five year old son is getting lucky by now, and Dani? She’d probably throw me a party if she found out I let my guard down around a woman. She’s been after me to get a girlfriend for years.
Too bad Mary lives in Salem. Then again, after Dani moves to Massachusetts next month, that will give me plenty of reasons to come back around.
That thought has my lips curving up. “Nope. No wife. No girlfriend, either. I’m completely unattached. You?”
“Single at Christmas,” Mary confirms. And then she laughs. “Sounds like a cheesy rom-com title, doesn’t it?”
No. It sounds like my fucking Christmas gift. A beautiful woman with goddamn tinsel in her hair.
I’ve never wanted something more in my life than I want one taste of Mary at this moment.
As if she can hear my silent prayers, I glance down and notice that she’s staring up at me. What is she looking at? Am I drooling?
I might be drooling.
I only just resist the urge to wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “What?”
She jerks her chin up at the ceiling. “Look what I just noticed.”
Following her gesture, I glance up and see the small bushel of red, white, and green that’s tied to an invisible string hanging down from the ceiling. It’s still up there, more than a couple of feet above our heads, but whether we meant to or not, our dancing has positioned us right below a floating sprig of mistletoe.
Her eyes twinkle mischievously. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I sure hope so,” I murmur.
Her head angles back just enough that I know it’s an open invitation. She doesn’t have to ask me twice.
I dive in for the kiss that this blonde beauty is offering me. It starts out sweet and it starts out nice, but I think she’s got a little bit of naughty in her. She opens up, licking my lips so that I know what she’s after, and I give her all I have.
The second I slip my tongue inside, I groan into her mouth.
She tastes like fucking peppermint.
Chapter 2
Max
We end up at her place. How? No fucking clue. I remember coming up with the brilliant idea of taking her back to my hotel. She was into it, except it’s Christmas Eve, and even though my Mary is all woman, the little kid in her wanted to be home for Christmas.
I’m okay with it.
Hell, she could’ve yanked me by my tie into the back of my rental car and I would’ve let her. I’ve got no shame. No pride, either. She can snap at the floor, tell me to bark like a dog, and I’d be on my knees, panting, in an instant.
By the time we get to her place, I almost am already.
Because she knows the way, Mary insists on driving. I don’t argue. I’m still amazed that she’s willing to bring me back home with her after we met in a bar. I haven’t been on a real date in years, but that seems a little crazy to me. I tease her as we’re driving, asking if she’s luring me for some nefarious purpose.
All she says is, “It’s Christmas,” as if that means something.
Okay. Christmas. Sure.
I’ll take any excuse to keep this night going. The soft whispers, the naughty promises as we spent the last couple of hours dancing and talking and making sure this seemed right… I want this woman. To my amazement, she’s willing to have me.
I’m a little enthusiastic. Once she closes her door behind us, I’m already reaching for her, helping her peel off her sweater, shimmy off those leggings. Thank Santa that she’s still into
it, giggling as she tosses her sweater behind her before reaching up to unbutton my shirt.
In the back of my mind, I remember leaving my suit jacket tossed on one of the empty stools at the bar. I don’t remember grabbing it when the bartender said they were getting ready to close up for Christmas.
Patting my back pocket then both of the front, I make sure I have my wallet, my phone, and my rental keys. Since I do, I don’t give that jacket another thought. Mary has slipped her hand down the front of my pants. The feel of her fingertips brushing against the head of my cock has my total attention.
“Hold tight, baby,” I murmur, swinging Mary up in my arms before she can even let out a squeal of surprise. “Which way to the bedroom?”
She points and it doesn’t matter how crazy desperate it makes me look. Her gentle touch nearly had me blowing my load in my slacks. I’ve got to get inside her before I explode.
I’ve only got eyes for the cozy, quilted bed laid out in the center of her room. With infinite care, I place Mary on top of the mattress. Stripped down to her panties and her bra, my breath catches in my throat while my cock starts to weep.
Did I think she was gorgeous before?
Fucking glorious.
Mary reaches behind her, unsnapping the bra. Her tits spring free. With a searing look up at me, blonde hair splayed against the pillows at her back, Mary lays flat, then lifts her ass in the air. With a slow, teasing motion, she pulls her panties down until the trimmed thatch of blonde curls at her center has me worrying that I’m drooling again.
I bite back my moan, reaching down to give my cock a fierce stroke. That’s when I realize that my shirt might be somewhere back in her living room, but I’ve still got on way too many clothes.
