Dirty Christmas (The Dirty Suburbs Book 9)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  We’ve come to kissing before only to get interrupted each time. This time, nothing’s going to stop. Not even the enraged lunatic who’s apparently out for blood.

  Propelled by a sense of urgency, I crush my mouth to hers. She sucks in a hard breath and she moans as her lips part. I don’t waste a second sliding my tongue through the opening. I’ve been wanting to taste her. From the moment I saw her, I’ve had a craving for brown sugar. And cinnamon. And, well…sex.

  The mistletoe slips from my fingers and my hands go to her thigh. I push up the velvet of her dress and trail my touch across her skin. I growl as I discover the curves and the dips I’ve had my eye on all night. She really is as smooth and sweet as she looks.

  Now she’s grinding on my thigh. The friction is gonna drive me mad. Holy hell—I'm so damn hard.

  She's kissing me like a mad woman. Groaning into my mouth, clawing at my arm with one hand while her other fist remains locked around the neck of that wine bottle. I need more. I need to lay her on the nearest flat surface and spread her thighs. Taste her pussy. Hear her scream for me. I need it now.

  I peel her from the wall and we move blindly down the abandoned corridor. Yanking me by the fabric of my T-shirt, she pulls me into a room. Bright blinding lights. A row of gas stovetops. Heavy pans hanging from ceiling hooks. We're in the kitchen.

  It's deserted. Not a soul in sight. The staff have gone home for the night. Perfect.

  I slide my hands under that luscious ass and I lift her onto a cold stainless steel worktable. Her legs clamp tight around my hips and I cup her hefty tits in my hands, squeezing them and making her shudder. She finally lets go of the bottle, depositing it on the counter beside her. She rocks her pussy back and forth and now I can smell her arousal thick in the air.

  This has got to be a health code violation but I don't give a fuck. And from the way she's moaning and ripping at my clothes, neither does she. She grabs the fabric of my shirt and tears it clear off my body. I grin to myself and bury my head at the curve of her neck as her fingers move up the expanse of my chest.

  She grabs my hand and pulls it between her legs. "Touch me..."

  Oh baby, you don't have to tell me twice.

  The noise of the crowd down the hall is nothing but a distant hum, lost beneath the riot of the blood whooshing through my veins. My fingers play with her wet pussy. So soft. Smooth. She thrusts her hips into my touch.

  "God, you’re sexy," I grit out as my mouth travels up the column of her throat, sucking and biting at her like a savage.

  “Make me come,” she begs as my thumb swipes her clit again and again. “Make me come…”

  I kiss her neck, palming her breast roughly. “Say my name, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

  “Fuck, Wesley. Make me come.”

  “That’s right. I’m gonna make you come so hard.” It’s a promise.

  Two fingers piston and curl inside of her. She writhes, her sweet pussy dripping onto the counter. Her walls are so tight, crushing my fingers with each hard pulsation. I kiss her mouth. Rough. Hard. She’s coming. I feel the constriction of her muscles. The ripple washes along her limbs.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Her eyes squeeze shut. Her thighs lock around my ribs. She throws her head back and she screams!

  She clings to me, her pulse following an erratic pattern as she recovers. Her little fingers dance up and down my naked back. My lips move along her cheeks, her jaw, down her chest. I take my time enjoying this sexy woman.

  By the time we hear the footsteps approaching, it’s too late. The old man appearing in the doorway, lets out a started roar. “Che cazzo è!” He flings his chubby arms up in the air.

  I don’t speak the language, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a friendly greeting.

  “Uh—hey man!” I say trying to act casual as I help Sanaya off the counter. The wine bottle is already tucked under her arm as she hastily adjusts her clothes.

  The red dude’s face swells with anger. “I make my grandmother’s bucatini on that counter! What would Nonna Lucia say? Ay? What would Nonna Lucia say!”

  Sanaya and I mutter our apologizes as we scramble out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the service exit.

  There’s a Santa Claus jacket hanging on a hook by the door. I grab it and shrug it on as we dash by. Her ankle twists as we run. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder as we burst into the dark alley behind the restaurant.

  She’s giggling like crazy. "So, are we on Santa's naughty list or what?!"

  Chapter 7

  Sanaya

  We stumble into the lobby of the local bed and breakfast. We can hardly keep our hands off of each other. I've got my face buried in his neck, burrowing into his ridiculous Santa Claus jacket and getting lost in the intoxicating scent of his skin as he requests a room. His hand slides down the curve of my spine while the receptionist swipes his credit card. He's already nipping at the base of my throat as the elderly woman hands over the room key.

  She eyes us up and down from over the top of her glasses. "We have a strict noise policy."

  I walk backward, pulling Wesley toward the staircase. By now, my boots are tucked under my arm. My wine bottle is clenched in my fist. My hair is a mess of frizz and knots. With my bare feet and my boobs falling out of my elf costume, I look like the kind of girl who’d need that kind of warning.

  Still, Wesley flashes a cocky smirk in the face of her judgmental stare. "You don't have to worry about us," he assures her. "My wife and I are so exhausted from our busy day. We’re just going upstairs to unwind with a glass of wine and go straight to bed."

  Nice try!

  The woman reaches under her desk and pulls out a festive basket overflowing with condoms. She angles her stern chin in that direction. It’s more of a demand than an offer.

  Wesley and I exchange a look before he stomps up to the counter and grabs a fistful of condoms. He shoves it into the pocket of his coat. His lips twist to the side as he tries to hold back his laugh. He shoves his hand back into the basket and fills up his other pocket.

  “Have yourself a lovely night,” he says solemnly.

  The woman just rolls her eyes.

  Wesley and I erupt into laughter as he wraps his arm around my waist and we race up the stairs. He slips the key into the lock of our room and throws the door open. Fisting the skirt of my dress, he pulls me into the room and shoves me against the nearest wall. I jolt as a flare of pain rushes down my back and explodes into a burst of pleasure at the meeting of my thighs.

  Oh fuck yes!

  His fingers brush over mine. Gently, he takes the boots from my hand and tosses them to the floor. Then, he takes the wine bottle, uncorks it and brings the rim to my lips. When he tilts it slightly, the tangy acidic taste bursts across my tongue before spilling down my chin, unto my chest and dress.

  He leans down and cleans it up. The languid draw of his warm, velvety tongue through the space between my breasts makes my toes curl into the worn carpeting. He rakes a path up my neck with his teeth and my knees turn to rubber.

  “Your skin tastes so good,” he hums. “I want to lick you all over.”

  I thrust my pelvis forward, offering it to him. “Lick me anywhere you like.” His breath explodes over my flesh when he laughs.

  A rough hand grips my leg and parts my thighs before cupping my pussy. I'm shivering. I have no choice but to grind against his palm, crushing my clit into his hand to relieve the unbearable throb that's been building over the past few hours.

  His other hand fists in my hair, pulling my head back. Jesus—Computer Boy’s rough. I love it.

  His lips are so close. "Do you want this, baby? Tell me you want it."

  I brush my lips against his, a little grin playing on my mouth. "You want me to beg?"

  The heel of his palm pushes hard on my clit and—fuck—I see stars. "Yeah. Beg me for it. Let me hear you."

  I throw my head back against the wood and I'm no longer playing games. "Want you. Need you so bad, We
sley."

  I'm so alarmingly wet. How am I not dehydrated? A girl needs water to lubricate her internal organs but right about now, all the liquid in my body is devoted to showing this man just how much I want him.

  He cups the back of my head and claims my lips, kissing me hard. My mind is spinning. And now he's kissing a trail down my torso, fingers brushing along my ribs. When his lips sweep across my pelvic bone, I know for sure that I'm in trouble.

  "Can't wait to taste you," he groans as he drops to his knees. He grabs at the nylon of my panties, pulling them down to the floor. His fingers pass over my folds and he opens me up, dragging his touch through my wetness. Pleasure beams zip through my blood.

  I shove my hands through the long strands of his messed up hair and thrust my pussy forward like a lurid offering. " Taste it," I beg. "Eat it up."

  His short chuckle fills the air. "My greedy girl."

  His puckered lips brush my clit and my eyes spin back into my head at the sensation. Then his tongue slips out, running over the sensitive bud.

  Back and forth. Back and forth.

  This man is tearing me apart. With every stroke of his tongue, he’s stripping through my layers. Every defense, every shield is coming down for him. I want to him to take every part of me. I want to let him all the way in. This flood of emotions washes down on me out of nowhere. This is not what I was expecting when I left the Christmas party to pick up some stranger from the airport just in time for the Holidays. How is it that I already feel so deep, drowning in something that just hours ago, I didn’t even realize existed?

  I clench my fingers in his strands, holding him there. I’m so turned on right now. I might just die. I work my hips against his handsome face, silently begging him to kiss me there forever. When his hands move up my thighs and roughly cradle my ass, I know that I’m so close.

  “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.” Fuck—I can hardly stand it.

  Wesley licks me relentlessly, like no one ever has before. I’d never even imagined that this range of sensations was possible. He brushes his hand through the crack of my ass, stroking the puckered entrance of my anus. My knees give way and I cry out.

  Throwing my head back, I chant his name into the air like a Christmas song.

  The orgasm is overwhelming. It rocks me to the very core. I’m a blubbering, rippling mess when he snatches the wine bottle from the floor and rises. His body is pressed flush with mine. His fingers clasp lightly around the front of my neck as his lips linger by my ear. “Was that good for you?”

  Is he fucking kidding me right now?

  He rocked my fucking world. “That was magic…” I whisper helplessly.

  Before I even find the strength to move an inch, I feel the cool glass of the wine bottle grazing the inside of my thigh. The lip of the slides smoothly through my folds before pressing hard against my clit. I shudder and whimper like a fucking baby.

  With a wicked half-smile, Wesley brings the bottle to his lips and empties it before letting it fall to the carpet. Reaching between us, he unzips his fly and pushes his pants down around his knees. His hand guides mine around his long, hard, pulsing erection.

  “If you think my tongue is magic, wait till you get my cock.”

  Chapter 8

  Wesley

  This is fucking heaven.

  This fairy is on top of me, completely bare, her perfect body on display like a work of art. A look of ecstasy magnifies her fine features as she rides me, losing herself in the pleasure, calling my name.

  And I’m lost in everything about her. She’s so beautiful with her hair cascading over her narrow shoulders in the half-light. Her back arches and bends as she slowly moves her body on top of mine. Her breasts bounce. Her skin shivers.

  I already fucked her against the wall. Then, I pinned her to the bed and drilled my cock into her pussy. When she flipped onto her stomach and spread her legs, sticking her ass up in the air for me, that’s when I knew for sure that I’d hit the jackpot.

  Yes—this night started out like shit.

  But the minute I allowed myself to see her, to enjoy her, my luck took a major turn for the better.

  Now, she’s pounding on my chest, throwing her head back as her speed increases. Her pussy is throbbing and wet and greedy. I jackknife my cock into her, fucking her hard from below.

  She says my name. She says it like it means something. Like it means everything.

  That’s just silly right. This girl doesn’t even know me. I don’t know her. We barely just met. None of this is logical.

  Get a grip, buddy!

  My senses threaten to explode. She’s too much.

  Too pretty. Too sexy. Too smart.

  Too feisty and self-assured and confident.

  I can’t keep her out even if I try. This girl is stealing my breath, stealing my mind. Stealing my heart and I don’t even know if she wants it.

  She leans forward and her fingers tighten on my shoulder as my thick cock tears through her pulsating tunnel. I’m starting to crack and from the way her flesh is trembling, I know that she’s breaking, too.

  My hand twists in her hair as I guide her close and slide my lips over hers. Because I need to be kissing her, I need to be tasting her as we explode together.

  Chapter 9

  Wesley

  Annaleigh's eyes widen as she takes in the spectacle standing on her doorstep. "What the...?"

  I glance at Sanaya and grin. She's standing next to me, an utterly sexy mess in her rumpled elf costume under her stained white blazer, biting down her own smile. She smells like tomatoes and sex but she looks like she’s flying high.

  Me? I literally do not own a shirt right now. So I’m bare-chested under my wrinkled Santa Claus jacket. What can I say? I packed light.

  Anyway, we must look insane. A pair of Holiday-themed lunatics.

  "Hey Annaleigh," Sanaya says flinching visibly. “How’s it going?”

  My little sister looks like she’s about to go hysterical. “How’s it going? How’s it going? I’m freaking out. That’s how it’s going!” Her eyes zero in on Sanaya's neck. She leans forward and examines it in scowling disbelief. "Is that a hickey?!"

  I snicker under my breath as Sanaya tugs on her collar trying to conceal the evidence of our evening of debauchery.

  Right then, Prescott comes tromping down the stairs. He’s buttoning the cuffs of his long sleeves as he goes, a satin tie hangs loose around his neck. His expression brightens when he sees us at the door.

  Then, it darkens as he soaks in the details.

  Annaleigh turns to Prescott and they share a worried look.

  "So are you gonna let us in or what?" I cinch my coat closed over my chest. "I'm about to lose all sensation in my damn nipples."

  My sister averts her eyes and holds up a hand to stop me. "No interest in knowing the goings-on of your nipples."

  Rolling my eyes, I grab Sanaya's hand and stride over the threshold. Prescott and I clasp palms and lean in for a manly pat on the back but Annaleigh waddles her way in, tugging on her husband's arm. "Don't touch them!” she hisses. “They look like they need to be disinfected."

  Prescott is easily persuaded. He wraps an arm around his wife's shoulders. "What the fuck happened to you two?" he asks cautiously. “We were up waiting half the night.”

  Sanaya blows out a breath that causes her wild hair to blow up off of her forehead. "It's a loooonnnggg story."

  "One that will have to wait until you get back, hun." Annaleigh's attention is on Prescott's tie as she knots it sloppily and pats him high on the chest. My brother-in-law glances down at the hack job and shakes his head at his wife. She only giggles as he re-knots it himself. "Now, get out of here so you can hurry back before the guests start arriving for dinner."

  "What's going on?" Sanaya asks, her ears perked as her boss grabs his jacket before kissing his wife and rubbing her baby bump.

  He hurries down the front steps to his car. "Gotta run in to the office for a couple hours.
Bridge rehab plan is starting to come together."

  Sanaya's eyes light up hopefully. "You need my help?"

  He pauses to give her another onceover. Observing the extent of her dishevelment, he waves off her offer. "Nah—you look like you need some time to...recuperate."

  Annaleigh blows a kiss at her husband and closes the door. She collapses against it and looks at us with bulging eyes. "Guys—I need all the help I can get," she confesses, words gushing out of her mouth. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking inviting a dozen people over for Christmas.”