Santa's Special Delivery
Page 3
“Gabriel, what are your plans for the rest of the night?”
Gabriel
I don’t know how I got suckered into this.
But my butt is now numb from sitting in the same hunched over position for the past two hours on the hardwood floor of Joy’s living room, boxes and gift-wrapping supplies strewn around us, as we’ve taped, cut, and adorned over forty gifts with ribbons.
When Joy smiled sweetly, batting her long eyelashes at me over the bar and asked me to come home with her, I had some pretty specific ideas on how we’d be filling our time. As in, I’d be filling her up with my dick.
Instead, the minute we walked in the house she shoved me down on the floor, plied me with spiked eggnog and put me to work wrapping gifts.
Placing yet another wrapped box over in the completed pile, I take another one from the stack, examining the name and contents of the toy.
“Oh wow, I remember this one,” I grin, hoisting the Lite-Brite box up so she can see what I’m referring to. “I used to play this for hours when I was a kid. I loved creating and making designs, and houses, and pictures all lit up and bright.”
She smiles and nods her head. “I’m sure it was fun.”
I give her a side-eyed “are you serious?” look, my forehead wrinkling in disbelief.
“Are you saying you’ve never played with this toy? Or stepped on the pegs left on the floor when you had to get up in the middle of the night to pee? Those little buggers hurt.”
We both laugh and she shakes her head. I chuckle even more at the memory of my dad howling in pain when he stepped through the landmine of Legos and other toys I’d left on my bedroom floor when I was a kid.
I miss that. My childhood. I miss my parents, both who died within a few years of each other. Dad of a heart attack and mom in a ski accident of all things. It left me with just Granddad Fred as my only living relative as I entered my first year in college, and now he’s sick with an aggressive form of cancer.
If I’m honest with myself, it’s the reason I’ve been so damn surly these past months, easily frustrated and agitated over even the slightest nuisances. That isn’t my typical behavior. I’m actually a pretty decent guy on most days. I’m kind to my colleagues, supportive of my friends and I volunteer my time when I can to the Boys and Girls Club in Boston.
Unfortunately for Joy here, she hasn’t been the recipient of that guy since we’ve met. But I plan to change that, if she’ll give me the chance.
I set the toy down and stare at her, taking in the cute look of concentration across her face, the way she sticks her tongue in her cheek as she nimbly decorates the gift, as if she’s one of Santa’s best helpers.
Her cinnamon-brown hair is pulled back in a low bun, a little messy from the hat she’d pulled off her head earlier when we came in from the cold. Her pert nose tips up at the end, accentuating a cluster of freckles around the bridge and her cheeks.
And those lips. I can still taste the syrupy sweetness from the peppermint schnapps and feel the eagerness of her returned kiss from earlier. My dick remembers it all too well, too, and begins to strain inside my jeans hoping to have more of that tonight.
Joy glances up and finds me staring, giving me a quirk of her brows. “The thing is, I never received any fun gifts for Christmas when I was a child because I grew up in the Boston foster care system. I got moved around a lot. I was lucky if I even got new socks or shoes that fit and a warm meal during the holidays.”
And that, folks, is what you call a boner-killer.
Never in a million years would I have expected Joy to share something like that with me. How could such a beautiful woman who is so full of life and happiness…and, well, joy…have grown up in such a loveless environment? Without parents or family to take care of her.
I’m sure my shock registers across my face because she tips her head and gives me a reassuring smile. Removing the gift from her lap, she places it next to her and moves to her hands and knees and begins crawling toward me.
Oh shit. Boner has been reactivated.
When she stops at my side, she carefully extracts the forgotten gift I’m holding and sets it aside before climbing onto my lap to straddle me. She cups my jaw in her soft hands, her emerald green eyes locking with mine.
And oh lord, those lips. They’re so close to mine and all I want to do is devour them. Devour her. Every fucking inch of her. Unwrap her like a goddamn Christmas present, slowly exposing every silky inch of her body, and then lay her down, spreading her legs wide so I can sink down into her heat.
Holy cow, that fireplace has some stiff competition for heat production right now. I’m a furnace, burning hot and Joy is the match.
Joy leans in and kisses me gently, as I wrap my hands around the small of her back, cupping her ass to guide her over my cock.
“I turned out okay, Gabriel,” she murmurs into my mouth, as I nip and suck at her berry-red lips. “I met my best friend and my only family, Deirdre, and we spent the last five years in the system in a really good home. I was lucky and that’s why I want to give back to ensure these kids don’t ever feel like they are unloved or unwanted.”
I’m trying to remain still, but the way she rocks against my rigid length doesn’t help matters. A low groan escapes my mouth, as she opens hers to let me suck on her tongue, which in turn extracts a moan from her.
“Gabriel,” she sighs, slipping her hands through my hair, tousling it with her fingers as she grips my scalp tightly. “Can I tell you something?”
I open my eyes to meet her gaze. My voice is gravely and comes out in a rush. “Anything.”
And then with a smile, one that is both sweet and sinful (but mostly sinful), she tugs my head back, pressing one of her hands onto my chest to push me down on the floor. She follows me down, laying her body across mine. The stiff peaks of her nipples poke through her sweater and the heat of her center connects with the heat of my groin.
“I think you’re really sexy.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Do you now?”
She nods her head, and then right before my eyes, she lifts her sweater over her head, revealing perfect breasts covered only in a white camisole tank. I swallow thickly and do my best to keep still, awaiting to discover what she has in store for me next.
Bending over at the waist, her lips rest near my ear, the tiny wet tip of her tongue circles over the shell of my ear as I drag in a shaky breath. God, this girl is going to kill me.
Her sweet, peppermint breath fans out over my neck. I’m just about to lose it.
“Yes, and I’d really like it if you could fill my stocking tonight.”
Joy
I can tell my cheeks are glowing pink from both the heat exchanged between us and my sexy confession to Gabriel.
Holy Saint Nick and all his reindeer! I can’t believe I just told him I wanted him to fuck me.
The man is so sexy, with his incredibly hot body and sweet stories of childhood, and now I know how sweet he is underneath all the initial Scroogey-bluster. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed to have him.
In one swift move, Gabriel lifts me from his lap, flipping me onto my back as I let out a little eek of surprise. The very package I’ve been coveting all night is now rigid and hard, nestling between my spread legs as he sucks down my airy moan with his kiss. His tongue dips into my parted mouth, moving wildly against mine, plunging inside, stroking, sucking and nibbling on me as if I’m a candied apple.
As he hovers over me, he slips a hand underneath my cami, caressing over the smooth bare skin of my abdomen, inching the material up as he goes. And then he slides to his hip next to me on the floor, and although I miss the heated weight of him, his fingertips carry the torch as they uncover my breasts, pushing the material to my collarbone.
For a moment he just stares down at my naked breasts and I pant with need. Gabriel exhales a needy breath and takes one of my stiff nipples into his mouth. And holy hot cocoa with sprinkles on top, this man has me arching my back
and squirming under his seductive ministrations.
My hands reach for something to grasp and wind up in his soft, brown hair. I take extra pleasure in mussing up his perfectly styled-do and based on the current sounds coming from his mouth, he doesn’t mind it one bit.
His mouth unlatches from my nipple and he murmurs against my wet flesh. “God, Joy. You taste so sweet. Like Christmas cookies and toasted marshmallows.”
I grin at his cute sentiment and thank the makers of my body wash for making such a great holiday scent. I’ll have to write them a thank you note later.
Much, much later.
“Come here,” I urge, tugging his head up to mine so I can kiss him again. “I don’t mean to interrupt with the awkward, but do you by chance have a condom with you?”
He smirks and pats his front pocket. “I’ve got you covered with all the necessary gift wrapping.”
I giggle and press my smiling lips to his again, letting my hand run down his torso and abdomen, lowering still until I cover his impressive length with my palm. He groans tightly while my fingers deftly unbutton his jeans and lower his zipper, slipping my hand down his pants.
And Oh Holy Night, his cock feels so good to the touch. Hot, hard but still silky smooth.
I run my fingertip around the ridge that’s poking up over the waistband of his briefs. A small bead of moisture greets me, and I swirl it around the head before taking him completely in hand, squeezing hard and pushing the underwear out of my way.
“Mmm, that feels amazing. Here, let me help you.” He lifts his hips and slides the jeans and boxers down to his knees, as I continue stroking.
My eyes wonder between us to the massive erection in my hands and my mouth begins to salivate.
“That’s a pretty impressive candy cane you have here,” I tease, flicking my eyes back to his. He stares at me, his once icy blue eyes now a melted puddle of indigo. “I might need a taste.”
I try wiggling my way out of his hold, but his firm hands gently press my shoulders back down and he shakes his head.
“Not so fast there, Little Miss Impatient. Is this how you are on Christmas Eve with all your presents?”
I giggle and shrug, admitting to my guilty behavior. “Yes. I’m a bad girl and don’t like to wait. But when you know it’s going to be something good, who can blame me?”
“Since you put it that way,” he smiles, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down. I kick them off at my heels, as they land near a pile of ribbons and gift wrap. “Santa might not bring gifts to bad little girls, but I sure do.”
Gabriel leans in and plants a kiss on my lips as his hand wanders down my belly and between my legs, his fingers slipping through my folds and finding me wet for him. I arch into his hand as his palm covers my mound, and I delight in the sensation as he rubs my clit in a tantalizing pattern.
“Right there. Yes, Gabriel. There.”
His lips move over the hollow of my throat, kissing me with hunger and a desperation that I can reciprocate as I squirm underneath him. I’m panting hard, goosebumps forming over my skin with every touch of his lips.
Bucking against his hand, I begin to feel the telltale signs of my impending orgasm as it slowly rises to the surface, as it gains momentum from his circling fingers swirling over my sensitive nub. Everything in me tightens and strains, as I finally let go, the beautiful climax washing over me like a peaceful wave against the sandy shores.
“Oh wow,” I exhale, letting my body slowly relax into the floor against my back. “Gabriel, that was amazing.”
He grins smugly, shifting around to pull the condom package out of his pocket, ripping it open and sliding it over his erection. I watch in awe at his efficiency because the next thing I know, his hand wraps around my ankle, pushing my leg up toward my chest and aligning the head of his cock with my center.
Holding himself over me, he claims my mouth in a long, lingering kiss, stealing my breath as he enters me in one swift motion.
Our moans of pleasure mix together and my walls spasm as he moves within me, plunging in and withdrawing in long drags of his cock, each time hitting something deep inside that has my eyes rolling inside my head.
“Oh, Gabriel. You feel so good.”
He hums against my ear, his hand moving to the inside of my thigh under my knee and clutching me tighter, jerking in and out in a rhythmic motion. I reach behind Gabriel and grab his ass, digging my fingernails in deep, eliciting a low growl from him.
“Angel,” he grunts, thrusting in so hard I scoot a few inches on the throw rug I’m on. “You feel incredible. I’m close. Can you come with me?”
It’s the longing in his eyes and desire I see in them as he stares down at me that has me exploding with the final jerk of his hips.
“Oh fuck, yes.”
Gabriel closes his eyes, letting go of a deep groan, as he lifts himself over me, his pelvic bone digging into mine, cursing through his release.
And I sigh, feeling like some unspoken Christmas wish has just been delivered to me. A gift I never even thought to ask for in the name of Gabriel.
Gabriel
We lay there panting, both on our backs, arms spread wide like human snow angels across the snowy-white rug. I slowly peel my eyes open, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree blinking and shining in strobe-like fashion against the decorations and ornaments Joy has hung with care.
I take in the cozy room, a little in awe of how beautiful and festive she’s made her home. It’s been many years since I’ve been in a home lovingly decorated for the holidays. Since losing my parents and living in my own Boston condo, I’ve never once even considered getting a tree or hanging decorations. And while I did a half-hearted attempt at decorating Granddad’s place, it. Doesn’t have the same sentiment.
“What are you thinking about over there, handsome?”
I bend my head and shift to my side, propping my head up on my elbow to look down over the beautiful woman underneath me. A strand of her caramel-brown hair flutters over her cheek, getting stuck in her long lashes. Reaching out, I brush it out of her face and lean down to gently kiss her nose.
“Honestly? I was thinking that this is the most relaxed I’ve been in months.”
Joy giggles, poking me in the ribs with a fingertip. “Well, duh. You just had an orgasm. I can’t think of anything more relaxing than that, except maybe a massage.”
My eyebrows arch with mirth. “Fair point. And let me just state the obvious, but that was far better than any massage I’ve ever received. It was a damn good release. Thanks for that.”
She shudders when I trail a finger over her collarbone, tracing the slope of her breast, circling her nipple that looks and tastes so edible. Joy rolls into me, seeking my warmth. I encircle my arms around her and pull her in tight, enjoying the heat that trickles through my limbs.
“Are you cold?” I ask, blindly searching above my head for the blanket I noticed earlier on the floor. Locating it just within reach, I tug it over her naked body. A shame, really, because I could imagine laying here all night wrapped up in our nakedness. “You want me to start a fire?”
“No, that’s okay. But we could move things into the bedroom, if you want.” Her voice husky, with a tinge of hesitancy lacing the question as if she’s unsure what’s happening between us and whether I want to stay.
I reach underneath the blanket and palm her ass cheek, tugging her tightly into me, our bodies fitting perfectly together. My dick likes this very, very much.
“If you’re asking me to spend the night with you, I’d love…”
Before I’m able to finish the sentence, my cell phone goes off in the distance. And it’s my grandfather’s ringtone. It’s Glory Days by Bruce Springsteen. I chose that song because Granddad Fred always loves to regale the good old days of his youth. Or, when he happened to be in a disciplinary mood, it would be, “Son, when I was your age…”
My mouth closes and opens, and then closes again, hand stalling at the top of Joy’s hip.<
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“Shit, I’m sorry. But I need to get that. It’s my granddad.”
I roll over and rummage through the discarded apparel around us, locating my jeans and pulling out my phone.
Three missed calls.
Oh shit.
“Hello? Granddad?” I say on a breathless exhale.
There’s a silent pause, but I can hear background noise. A voice over an intercom that I can’t quite isolate.
“Um, yes, hello. Is this Mr. Gabriel Frost?” It’s the unfamiliar voice of a woman.
Because I expect to hear my grandfather on the other end, the female caller has me a little stupefied. I must wear a stunned look on my face, because Joy sits up, tugging the blanket with her to wrap around her shoulders and knees before landing a gentle hand at my back.
While my body temperature was blazing hot moments ago from the great sex, it’s plummeted into frigid waters now as I contemplate what this call could mean. I think I might actually be sick to my stomach.
“This is Nurse Gloria Roberts from Snowdon Methodist Hospital. Fred Frost, who I believe is your grandfather, has been admitted with complaints of flu-like symptoms and difficulty breathing, possibly a severe side-effect from his recent treatments. He’s stable now but as a precaution, the doctor has requested he remain overnight for observation. Fred asked that we contact you to let you know.”
I feel a lump of bile climbing up my throat and I swallow it down in my panic.
Cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder, I shove my feet into my jeans, forgetting the underwear for now, and stand in a hurry to dress.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be right there. What room is he in?”
There’s shuffling of paper on the other end and then she says, “Mr. Frost is in room 218. You’ll need to check in at the visitor’s station at the front, but your name is on the list.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in less than twenty minutes.” I don’t even bother to say goodbye, I just press end and fumble around for the rest of my clothes.