12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart

by Anthology

  “Well, I was dancing.”

  “It looked more like he was trying to fuck you on the dance floor.”

  I snort. “I hate to be the one to tell you, Bob, but fucking is a bit different from that.” I tilt my head at him. “You want me to get you a book on the subject? Because it seems like you are woefully misguided.”

  “I don’t need a book,” he mutters. “Why are you here with him?” He jerks a thumb toward Skip, who is being helped up off the floor.

  Skip taps Bob on the shoulder, like he wants to repay the favor, and Bob turns his head just enough to growl at him through his clenched teeth. Skip’s face goes white and he backs up, holding up two hands.

  “No problem, buddy. Didn’t know you called dibs.” Skip turns and walks off the dance floor.

  “He didn’t call dibs!” I yell to Skip, but he doesn’t come back.

  “I did call dibs. I do call dibs. I will call dibs.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the exit.

  “I don’t accept your dibs!” I cry. I dig my heels in and he turns back to face me.

  Suddenly, he upends me over his shoulder, his arm clamped across the backs of my thighs. I beat on his back, but he pays me no mind. I bend close to him and bite the only thing I can get my teeth into, which just happens to be the tender skin just over his left butt cheek.

  “I like it rough, sweetheart,” he says.

  This time, I put some heat behind my teeth and really nail him. His butt flinches.

  “Rough enough for you, sweetheart?” I ask between bounces of my body.

  And then we’re outside. He flips me over and sets me on the hood of a red Ford. He holds my face in his hands and stares into my eyes. “I’ll take whatever I can get from you,” he says.

  My heart stutters. Th-thud. Th-thud. Th-thud.

  “What do you want?”

  He spreads my thighs so he can stand between them. “You.”

  “Me?” I squeak.

  He grabs my bottom and yanks me closer to him. “Yes. You.”

  “But I’m just a girl. And there are so many of them crawling after you that you can’t keep all the names straight.” Tears sting my eyes and I blink them back.

  He looks at me quizzically. “I hurt you,” he says softly.

  My nose is starting to run, so I sniffle. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I did. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean what I said.”

  Sniffle. “Then why did you say it?”

  “Because those assholes were asking questions about you and I didn’t want to tell them anything, so I downplayed it. I didn’t want them all sniffing around you. You’re too important.”

  “You just met me yesterday,” I remind him.

  “And you’re all I’ve thought about ever since.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he says. His lips hover over mine, so close that we’re sharing breaths, but he doesn’t kiss me. My blood thrums in my veins. “I can’t believe you stood me up. I showed up with flowers, wearing a tie, and driving a car I borrowed, just to impress you.”

  “I don’t need all that stuff. I just need you.”

  “Who am I?” he asks. His blue eyes look deeply into mine.

  “You’re everything,” I breathe.

  Then his lips touch mine. My belly drops and my breath stops as he licks across my lips, begging them silently to part. His tongue enters my mouth, licking into me, filling me up with him. He moans against me, and grabs my bottom, pulling me closer to him, his hardness pressing insistently against my softness. I hold onto his shirt the way I did when we were on his bike.

  Suddenly, a cold voice slices through the air. “Madison!”

  Bob’s head jerks up and he steps back three paces from me, and all the warmth that was him is suddenly gone.

  “Dad!” I cry. My father steps between me and Bob. “What are you doing here?”

  “Skip called me.”

  Skip and I grew up together. The traitor.

  “Skip said some ex-convict was carrying you out of the bar over his shoulder.” He looks from Bob to me and back again. “Is that true?”

  “I can explain, sir,” Bob begins, but my dad shoots him a look.

  “Why do you look so familiar to me?” Dad asks him.

  “We met in the courtroom, sir.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Bob Caster, sir.”

  Dad’s eyes narrow. “One of Phil’s boys?”

  “Yes, sir.” Bob scratches his nose like he’s suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Why are you with my daughter?”

  “We’re on a date, sir.”

  “One that ends with you throwing her over you shoulder?”

  “That’s actually how it starts, sir.”

  A chuckle bursts from my lips and I cover my mouth to keep it in. “Sorry,” I mutter.

  “Madison, get in the car.” Dad points to his fancy car, which is parked right behind the one I’m sitting on.

  “With all due respect, sir, I’d like to take her home.”

  “If you had any respect for my daughter, you wouldn’t have been all over her on the hood of a car in the middle of the street.”

  “It was just a kiss, Dad—”

  “It looked like more than that.”

  “It was,” Bob interjects. His eyes meet mine. “It was more than that.”

  “What was it?” I whisper, past the lump that’s suddenly clogging my throat.

  “More,” Bob says. “I don’t know how to explain it. But it was more.”

  “More than you deserve,” Dad snaps. “My daughter will not have a relationship with an ex-convict.”

  Bob takes a step back and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I understand, sir,” he says. “Good night, Madison.”

  “Don’t go!” I cry. He rounds the front of his car and gets inside. He cranks it and waits for me to get my butt off it.

  “You deserve better than him, Madison,” Dad says.

  I get off the hood of the car and glare at him. “Dad!”

  “Get in the car, Madison!” he shouts. He points his finger in the direction he wants me to go.

  I stomp over to the car and get in, and my heart breaks when I see that Bob is already driving away. His eyes meet mine briefly in his mirror and I see a world of hurt inside him.

  “I’m not going to my apartment, Dad,” I tell him.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Dad heaves a sigh. “What do you want, Madison?”

  “I want to get to know him, Dad. That’s all. I like him a lot.”

  “I could tell,” he grunts. “He’s not the one for you.”

  How do I explain to my dad how lonely I have been since starting college? How do I explain to him how much time I spend in my apartment all by myself? How do I explain how good Bob makes me feel, even if I just met him? I owe it to myself to find out where it’s going, and I’m afraid that if I don’t declare my intentions now, I’ll never get a chance to.

  “I want to talk to him,” I say.

  Dad heaves a sigh. “I’m not going to be able to change your mind, am I?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He takes some twisty-turny streets and I realize that I have no idea where we are. “Where are we going?”

  “His parole officer and I play golf.” He shrugs.

  “And?” I glare at him.

  “And he’s had a lot to say about that kid.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how he’s turned his life around. He has a job, and he’s getting an education, and he plans to dedicate his life to helping kids who got a poor start, just like him.”

  “What if it’s me who’s not worthy of him, Dad?” I whisper.

  He stops in front of a small house on a cul-de-sac and I see the car Bob was driving in the driveway. He’s home.

  “You’re worthy of everything, Madison.”

  “Why did you bring me here, Dad?”

  “
Because of that look in your eyes, Madison… I haven’t seen it in a long time. And I screwed it up for you tonight by sticking my big nose in. If your mother were here, she’d string me up by my b–“ He stutters to a stop. “Man parts.”

  I laugh. “You can say balls, Dad.”

  He glares at me. “Don’t push me, Madison.” He heaves a sigh. “I’m going to stay right here until you don’t need me anymore.” He motions toward the house. “Go talk to him.”

  “Really?”

  He nods. “Really.” He clears his throat. “I don’t think that boy has ever had anyone fight for him, Madison. If he’s what you want, fight for him.”

  I get out of the car with a giddy heart. “Thanks, Dad,” I lean back in to tell him.

  “I’ll wait here. Go.”

  I walk to the door on shaky feet. Just as I lift my hand to knock, the door flies open. A man looks at me, his eyes sweeping from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet, but not in a creepy way. It’s an I’ll figure you out way.

  “Hi, Madison,” he says, and he smiles at me. He sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Phil,” he says by way of introduction.

  “Nice to meet you too.” I look around his shoulder. “I’m sorry to bother you, but would it be possible to speak with Bob?”

  He turns to face the living room and bellows at the top of his lungs. “Bob!”

  Bob sticks his head out of his room and does a double take. “What are you doing here?”

  I jerk my thumb toward the driveway. “My dad brought me.”

  Phil looks around me and grins. “Your dad’s here?” He starts in that direction.

  “Where are you going?” Bob calls to his retreating back.

  “Going to take Madison’s dad for a beer!” he calls back. He gets in the car with Dad and they leave me standing in the doorway.

  “Can I come in?” I ask.

  “No.”

  My belly drops. “No?”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “Please.”

  He shakes his head again, but he’s looking a little chagrined. “You should go.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  He shrugs. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He closes the door in my face.

  I stand there on the stoop, not sure what to do with myself. Dad left with Phil, and I don’t have another ride. I sit down on the top step.

  A gentle drizzle begins to fall. I pull my knees up to my chest and scoot back under the overhang, but it’s not enough. I’m getting soaked.

  The door opens. “Jesus Christ, Madison. Are you seriously going to sit there in the rain?”

  My teeth are starting to chatter. “Just until my dad gets back. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Get in here,” he snarls.

  “No, I’m fine right here.”

  “Is this what life with you is going to be like? You declining every time I make a suggestion and me having to force you into it?” He hooks an arm beneath my knees and one behind my shoulders and scoops me up. “Jesus, you’re a lot of trouble,” he mutters to himself as he carries me to his room. “You’re soaked,” he says. He holds out a clean t-shirt and a soft pair of gym shorts. “Go put these on,” he demands. He points to the bathroom.

  Instead, I turn my back and pull my shirt over my head. He hisses out a breath.

  “Madison,” he growls. I pull the t-shirt down over my head and turn back to face him.

  “What?” I ask.

  He picks up a pillow, sits down in a chair, and shoves it into his lap. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  I unbutton my pants and push them down over my hips. He sucks in a breath and looks the other way. “I’m really sorry about what my dad said.”

  “It was all true. I’m not worthy. Not of someone like you.” He shrugs. “If I had a daughter, I would feel the same way.”

  “He knows you’re better than your past,” I tell him. I sit down on the edge of the bed. I don’t even bother putting on the shorts because his shirt falls almost to my knees.

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re not what?”

  “Better than my past. My past will always be with me.”

  “Why did you go to jail?” I scoot backwards so that my back is against his headboard.

  He groans and shoves a hand through his hair. Then he starts to talk.

  “I had a friend who was mentally challenged. And I walked up on a group of guys harassing him one day. They didn’t stop, even after I warned them, and I couldn’t let them think it was all right. So I sucker-punched the biggest one in the group.” He flexes his fingers. “Broke my hand, but it was worth it.” He heaves a sigh. “Anyway, I broke his nose and his parents filed charges. I did it.” He shrugs. “I did my time. Thirty days.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  He nods. “Probably.”

  “Good. I would too.”

  He chuckles. “You probably would.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Why did you stand me up?”

  I shrug. “My feelings were really hurt.” I look at what he’s wearing. “Why did you take off your tie?”

  His cheeks flush. “I only wore it because Phil said it would impress you.”

  “It did.”

  His face grows even redder. I lean toward him. “Are you blushing?”

  “Everything about you makes me blush, Madison,” he tells me softly.

  “We just met yesterday,” I whisper playfully.

  “And yet I already know I’m going to marry you,” he whispers back.

  “I know you will. You won’t be able to resist me.” I laugh and the corners of his lips tip up in a grin.

  “What do you want?” he asks.

  “You.” I stare hard at him, because I want him to know I’m serious. I know this is fresh and new, but it’s also special and I want to pursue it.

  He points to his chest. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” I crook my finger at him and he tosses his pillow to the side and stands up.

  I look down at the significant bulge behind his fly.

  “You really like me, don’t you?” I ask.

  “My heart likes you. My dick just wants you.”

  I reach out and touch him, outlining the ridge of him with my fingertips. He flinches and draws his hips back. “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I want to learn what’s in here—” He taps my temple with his finger. “—before I learn what’s in here.” He cups my center, holding tightly to my heat for a moment before he withdraws. My heart skips a beat and my belly clenches.

  “You want to go watch a movie?” he asks. “I think Phil got Lethal Weapon III at Blockbuster.”

  “Are you serious? I’ve been dying to see that.” I get to my feet.

  He holds out the shorts I didn’t put on earlier. “Put some clothes on. Please.” He holds his hands together like he’s praying. “My dick won’t be able to stand it if he finds out there’s nothing but a pair of panties between him and where he wants to go.”

  My belly flips like there are a thousand butterflies trying to get free. “Okay.” I take them from him.

  He clutches a hand to his heart. “Oh my God. She actually did something I asked her to do!”

  Then he runs out of the room and to the living room, and starts messing with the VCR. The movie starts and he motions for me to sit down next to him. I don’t, though. I pat my lap so he’ll lay his head down, and then I thread my fingers into his hair. He tenses immediately.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “No one has ever done that before,” he says quietly. He rolls to face the TV so I can’t see his face.

  “I’m going to do it all the time,” I promise. And I mean it. I’m going to do it every time I’m with him. He deserves to have someone show him how wonderful he is.

  I can tell when he goes to sleep. He gets soft in my lap and his face gets heavy against my thigh. But I don’t stop rubbing. I keep touching him, because giving him
comfort feels better than any kiss I have ever had.

  I see headlights in the drive, and I slide out from under his sleeping head without waking him. He snuggles deeper into the pillow I slip under him and murmurs my name.

  I pass Phil in the doorway and he looks at my clothes. “Your dad is going to kill him,” he mutters.

  “I’m going to marry that man, Phil,” I tell him as I sweep past him.

  “You’d better. Particularly now that you’ve defiled him,” he calls playfully at me.

  I grin and get in the car with Dad. “Why do you have on different clothes?” Dad asks.

  “Mine got wet. It was raining.” I shrug and smile at him.

  “What did you guys do?” he asks, his voice uncertain.

  “We watched a movie,” I tell him. “That’s all.”

  “Did you have a good time?”

  I let out a deep breath and stare out the window. “The best.”

  “Bring him by the house this weekend so your mother can meet him.”

  I grin. “Okay. I’ll ask him.”

  “He’ll show up. That boy has balls.”

  “I know.”

  Chapter 6

  Madison

  Three Months Later

  It’s Christmas Eve, and a deep snowfall has blanketed the city. Bob and I couldn’t get out if we tried, so we made plans for tomorrow with my parents, once the roads have been cleared. I’m kind of glad the roads are so crappy, because I have some things I need to say to Bob. I need to find out what his intentions are. I need to find out where this relationship is going.

  We have pretty much lived together for the past few months. He started staying over more than he was staying at Phil’s, and my roommate moved out, so he brought all his stuff over. We still haven’t officially told my parents, but I’m pretty sure he calls my apartment home for now and always.

  But what I need to tell him might change all this. It might wreck the perfect tranquility we have found together.

  The door opens and Bob walks in. He’d volunteered at the homeless shelter, setting up extra cots so some of the homeless could come in out of the weather. He wipes a dusting of snow from his hair and hangs his coat on the hook by the door. He comes over and kisses me.