Naughty and Nice

by Shannon Stacey, Jaci Burton, Megan Hart; Lauren Dane

  “Good point.” She lifted so he could shift. He was already gripping the base of his cock, ready to guide it inside her as she eased herself onto him.

  “Fuuuuuuck,” Brandon breathed, and Leah’s cunt clutched at him in response to the way his voice dipped under the word.

  She had her triggers, too.

  She settled herself onto him the whole way, letting out a small groan when his cock nudged her cervix. It was almost too much, but she blew out a breath and rocked against the pressure to shift him inside her. She gripped him with her knees to hold him still, though she felt the muscles in his sides working to move his hips.

  Leah put her hands on Brandon’s shoulders, her fingers curling into his skin. Her hair fell down around his face as her mouth found his.

  “Now,” she breathed. “Brandon, fuck me now.”

  And he did, oh, God, he did it just right. In, out, his hips twisting just enough. Her clit pressed his belly with every thrust and she tightened her inner muscles against the sliding pressure of his cock inside her. The urgency had eased off, but she was going to come again. No question. No stopping it.

  Their bodies moved together, stuttering just once or twice before he found his rhythm. Now Leah let him set the pace, going with it. She thought, given how long she’d been teasing him, that he’d start off fast and get faster, but Brandon had a way of surprising her no matter how well she thought she knew him. He didn’t ram his cock in and out of her, not frantic. He went slow.

  His tongue stroked hers and captured her gasp. “I want you to come again, baby.”

  “I’m…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, finding no words. Hard to speak. Hard to focus on anything but this great and building sweep of pleasure washing over her.

  He fucked into her a little harder, a little faster, but still careful. Not too hard, not too fast. She loved him for that, even as her orgasm shattered through her and she needed, wanted…no, craved the sensation of him moving inside her.

  “Faster,” she breathed into his mouth and clutched at his hair to tip his head so she could get at the sweetness of his throat.

  His groan sent waves of pleasure rippling through her. When she bit lightly at his throat, she swore she felt the throb of his cock inside her, and though it might be her imagination, the idea that he was so close to coming pushed her into climax. Leah came tasting the salt-sweet flavor of his flesh between her teeth and released his throat from her mouth as she gasped his name, over and over.

  Some minutes or maybe it was an hour went by, she couldn’t be sure, she was so thoroughly wiped out. At last, blinking, she pushed herself up to look into his face. His eyes were closed, but that broad grin was still on his lovely mouth. She kissed him lightly.

  “Hey.”

  He didn’t open his eyes. “Hey.”

  “Did I kill you?”

  “I’m sort of a little dead, yeah.” Brandon cracked open one eye to squint at her. “But it’s okay.”

  Leah sat up, feeling him soften inside her but not willing to move off of him just yet. The bathroom was a goodly number of steps away and she wasn’t ready for the hopping, post-sex “trying not to leak until I get to the shower” dance. Besides, she loved these moments, too, just after they’d both had the tops of their heads blown off in orgasm, when she could look at him all sleepy and sated-looking and marvel at how lucky she was to have such a sexy, wonderful husband.

  “What?” he asked, both eyes open now.

  “Nothing, what?”

  “You looked…” Brandon looked concerned. “Were you going to cry?”

  Leah blinked, surprised to find there was indeed the small sting of tears in the back of her eyes. He noticed everything about her. “No. Well. Maybe a little. But not in a bad way.”

  Brandon sat up and hitched himself closer to her. “Uh-oh.”

  Leah laughed. “It’s not bad. Really.”

  “Is this one of those tears of joy things?” He gave her a serious look.

  She kissed him. “Absolutely.”

  He grinned at the kiss. “Okay. Good. So…dinner, now?”

  “So predictable,” Leah murmured and ran her hand through his hair before kissing him again. She rested her forehead against his for a second. “Yes, dinner now.”

  The beauty of staying in a “ski in, ski out” condo in Vail was that it made it easy to get to the slopes. They’d even had some groceries pre-delivered by a specialty service so they’d have food for breakfast and some dinners. But Leah didn’t feel like cooking and suspected that though Brandon would be happy to make her something if she asked, he wouldn’t be that enthused about the idea, either.

  She kissed him again and got up to head for the shower, saying over her shoulder, “Mexican?”

  “You sure?” He got up to follow her. “I thought you said we were going to stick to our budget.”

  “I know what I said, but…” Leah shrugged as she turned on the shower. “What’s money for if not to spend?”

  He snorted lightly at that, and she knew why. Planning a wedding, even a simple one, after she’d lost her job due to corporate downsizing had caused them both quite a bit of stress. But with new jobs for both of them it had all worked out, enough for them to feel comfortable booking this vacation, their first Christmas together as a married couple. Surely eating a few dinners out couldn’t be that bad.

  “I won’t say no to Mexican,” Brandon said as she stripped quickly and stepped into the shower. The familiar jangle of his cell phone filtered through from the bedroom. “I bet that’s my mom. Let me grab it and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  It could be longer than that, if Caroline got to talking, so Leah just shook her head—but fondly. Brandon’s loving parents were a little overwhelming for a woman whose own family prided itself on distance and independence, but Caroline had really come through for Leah when she needed her. There was room in Brandon’s life for both of them, even if it meant being a little late for dinner.

  “Take your time,” she told him from under the spray. “Give her my love.”

  * * *

  This was the good life. A plate of tortilla chips and some salsa, a bottle of Corona, a plate of quesadillas on the way, some great live music…and his wife sitting next to him chair-dancing to the music. The restaurant they’d picked was crowded, which meant getting friendly with their neighbors. The blonde beside him had the annoying habit of tossing her hair when she laughed, but Brandon was already thigh-to-thigh with Leah and couldn’t ask her to shift over without pushing her up against the table full of frat boys at the table on her other side. The table directly across from them had a couple with two small children. Small, loud children who didn’t seem to like Mexican food.

  “This is so good!” Leah cried, dipping her chip in the salsa and holding her hand beneath to catch any drips. “Good choice, Mr. Long.”

  Brandon tipped his bottle toward her. “You chose it, Mrs. Long.”

  She leaned close to kiss him with the spicy salsa still on her lips, and he caught the glint in her gaze that stirred his cock even though they’d just had epic sex not more than a couple hours ago. Her hand slid along his thigh to cup him below the cover of the tablecloth. “Am I going to regret it later, though?”

  Brandon shifted just as the blonde swung her hair again. It hit his shoulder, so he turned his back, hoping to prevent any getting in his face. “I can’t make any promises.”

  Leah stroked him through his jeans, gave him a gentle squeeze and sat back. “Uh-huh. Ah, well. I’ll just open the windows.”

  The toddler at the next table spilled a full glass, then began to scream. The parents, looking haggard and irritated, waved for the waitress to bring some extra napkins while the baby pounded relentlessly on the high-chair tray. Leah gave the family a raised-brow glance Brandon was glad wasn’t directed at him.

  “I’d cry too,” she said, “if I was out in a noisy, crowded place past my bedtime.”

  Brandon had been to plenty of dinners w
ith his brothers’ families and felt the same. “People shouldn’t bring their kids to restaurants.”

  Leah turned to look at him. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Kids are messy, they’re loud and they can’t sit still,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’ll only eat chicken fingers or grilled cheese and they usually have to go to the bathroom at the wrong time.”

  “Well…that’s true, but…” She looked again at the family, which had calmed down even though both parents were now muttering and glaring at each other over their salsa and chips.

  “Look at those people,” he said. “They’re miserable.”

  “I thought you liked kids.”

  “I love kids,” Brandon said. Kids of his own would be different, he guessed. And sure, he wanted to be a dad, sooner rather than later, though he was pretty sure Leah wasn’t ready to talk about having babies. Not with her new job and all, plus they’d only been married a few months.

  Her brow furrowed for a moment as her gaze cut to the family’s table again. “I guess it’s easy to say what you’d do differently with your own.”

  The servers brought two trays of food and began passing them out to the frat boys at the table next door, then put two plates on Brandon and Leah’s table. Leah forked a bite of steak and peppers and offered it to Brandon, who took it off her fork with his mouth. “How’s your quesadilla?”

  He hadn’t yet taken a bite, but did now. “Good. Want some?”

  She waggled her brows. “Of course.”

  Together, they shared the contents of their plates. The music made conversation difficult, not that it mattered. At least it blocked out the noise from the cranky kids at the next table, and besides, Brandon and Leah didn’t always have to talk in order to communicate.

  “That was delish.” Leah patted her stomach with a sigh as they left the restaurant, music still blaring behind them. The doors they’d just come through opened at once, spilling out the frat guys. “What now? I know. Let’s go work off all this food.”

  “I like the sound of that,” he said with a grin and pulled her closer, but Leah laughed and shook her head.

  “Not that way. Well, maybe later that way. I just figured we have the week passes, and what’s the use of ski-in and ski-out if we don’t…well, ski in?”

  Brandon, his hands settled on her hips, turned them both to face the broad expanse of brightly lit mountain behind them. “I thought you didn’t like night skiing.”

  “I don’t. But you do.”

  This was true. Leah didn’t love to ski the way he did. She was decently skilled, enough to keep up with him if he slowed himself down, but she didn’t like to go too fast and even though he thought she was good enough to hit the black diamond slopes, she preferred to stick with green and blue. She didn’t like to ski at night because the lights messed with her depth perception.

  “It was that second margarita, huh?” He kissed her, then looked again at the mountain. He did like skiing at night, had been willing to forgo it for her, but if she was serious…

  “I just want you to have a good time on this trip, that’s all.” She gestured at the mountain. “And we should get our money’s worth out of the passes. And…maybe…”

  Brandon looked at her. “Maybe what?”

  “Maybe it gets me a little tingly watching you on the slopes.”

  He grinned. “Yeah?”

  “You’re so athletic,” Leah said, smiling but serious. “And graceful. You just swoosh, swoosh down the hill. And I’m always behind you, so I get a great view of your ass.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you then. Sure, why not? Let’s go. The slopes don’t shut down for another couple hours. We can do a few runs. Maybe hit the hot tub later, too.”

  His wife stood on her toes to grin up at him. “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  Leah was a big believer in stopping while you were still having fun. She should’ve stopped before they started. It had seemed like a great idea after dinner—which admittedly had been eased along by two very good margaritas. But she couldn’t blame alcohol for it, not really. She’d been serious when she said watching Brandon ski was a turn-on. Watching him do most anything was, but watching him be all sporty and athletic most definitely melted her butter. Leah was a competent skier, snorkeller, horseback rider, whatever. But Brandon, all long legs and broad shoulders and big hands, was perfection in motion.

  “You okay?” He dug one pole into the hard-packed snow, his skis angled just right. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We could take the blue slope.”

  “No. You said this one wasn’t so bad after this first drop-off. Right?” Leah gave the steep hill in front of them a wary glance. She was far more comfortable on wide slopes where she could zigzag and keep her speed down, but in order to get to that bit she’d have to navigate this drop in front of her. She could do it. Probably. But she wasn’t really looking forward to it.

  “Let’s go down the other way,” Brandon said. “I don’t care, Leah, really.”

  She looked up at him. They’d only been here for three days, and most of it had been a little like watching a horse reined in too tight. Sure, he could suffer the easier slopes, and she had no doubts Brandon was having fun because they were together…but she also knew he was probably itching to get going on something like this.

  “No, baby,” she told him, girding her imaginary loins. She faced the slope. “Let’s do this last run. Then we can hit the hot tub.”

  “Sounds good.” No kiss, it would’ve been too awkward on skis, but he grinned and turned his body to the edge of the slope. “Let’s go!”

  He went.

  Leah went a moment after him, her heart in her throat as the wind burned her cheeks. It wasn’t so bad. She’d taken lessons. She could do this. The bright white snow shone in the brighter, whiter light from the high lamps. This slope needed a good grooming. She squinted, aware that someone had come up behind her, was passing her, and that Brandon had slowed himself so she could catch up. That wasn’t what she wanted, though. She wanted a wide berth, room to zig and zag. If it wouldn’t have totally embarrassed her, she’d have made pizza with the tips of her skis to slow herself down. As it was, she just breathed deep and focused.

  And she was doing great, until some lack of shadow confused her and she hit a bumpy patch of ice that sent her flying just a little too high and a little too fast.

  Pain.

  She didn’t hear a splintery sound or anything that would indicate a break, but nevertheless, Leah’s ankle and shin burst into an explosion of agony. She spluttered, snow up her nose and down the front of her coat, not quite sure what had happened or what was going on, only that somehow she’d ended up on her face in the snow, her leg twisted beneath her, her skis popped off and halfway down the mountain. She was lucky she hadn’t stabbed herself with a ski pole.

  “Leah! Are you okay?” Brandon must’ve caught a glimpse of her tumble and stopped a couple hundred feet below her. He pulled off his goggles and stuck his poles into the snow to keep them from falling over, then stepped out of his skis to climb the steep, slippery slope toward her.

  Leah winced, as much at the indignity of her position as the pain, which had now dulled to a throb. “I hate night skiing.”

  “Can you stand?”

  “I think so.” But she couldn’t, something they both discovered when he bent to give her a hand up, and the smallest bit of weight on her injured ankle made her hiss with pain and sag in his grip. “Damn it.”

  “Take it easy. I can get the ski patrol.” He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t want to leave you. Do you think you can tandem with me? The end’s just around the bend, there’s a big dip there but nothing as bad as up at the top. If I can get you there, you could slide down on your butt.”

  “Of course I could,” Leah said with another wince. She didn’t want to sit here and wait until someone came for her, but she had no idea what he meant by tandem.

  She figured it out a co
uple minutes later as Brandon helped her up and back into her skis, then positioned himself behind her and had her hold onto the poles he held out in front of her like a grip bar.

  “This is how they teach little kids, sometimes,” he told her. “It’s not pretty, but it’ll get you down the mountain.”

  It was far from pretty. It was, in fact, downright humiliating. And it still hurt, even though Brandon had instructed her to hold her injured ankle as still as she could to let him do the heavy work in the turns. At least it was fast, though by the time they got to the bottom, Leah’d broken into a cold sweat from the pain.

  Two exams from the EMT and a tightly bound ankle wrap later, the sprain had been diagnosed, advice on care given, and Leah had hobbled back to the condo with Brandon’s help. Now, settled in front of the fireplace with her foot up and a mug of hot cocoa brimming with melted marshmallows, she felt a little better.

  “What a stupid idea,” she told Brandon finally. “Now I’ve ruined the trip. I’m sorry.”

  He settled next to her on the chair-and-a-half. “Don’t be sorry. I should’ve waited for you. I knew you had trouble with night skiing and black diamonds. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

  Leah put her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

  He looked at her. “You don’t!”

  Leah smiled and traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip. “In skiing? I definitely do.”

  “Well. It’s not like I care.”

  “I know you don’t,” she said with a sigh. “But sometimes I do. I mean, we’re only on this trip because you wanted to make me happy. We could be with your parents right now—”

  “Sleeping on a lumpy mattress and having to make sure we don’t make too much noise when we’re having sex?” Brandon shook his head. “Not the way I want to spend our first Christmas together married.”

  “But you always spent Christmas with your parents,” Leah told him. “Every year. Until I came along, anyway. I don’t want to be the one who makes things change for your family like that.”