Stocking Stuffers: A Five Story Christmas Anthology

by E. J. Darling

  “Well?” She looked him up and down, then tilted her head to the tree. “Put her up.”

  Instead, he gave her a coy smile, to which she furrowed her brows and put her hands out.

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but don’t do it.”

  That wouldn’t stop him. He lunged for her, spun her around, and squat until his head was between her warm thighs. When he stood, she screamed and held on to his head for dear life. Damn he wished he could turn her around, rip her thin pants apart at the seam, and show her what he really wanted.

  All the blood in his body rushed to his dick and he instantly regret his impulsiveness. Ignoring the insatiable lust, he handed her the star.

  “You’re ridiculous. You know that right?” She took it anyway and he walked her to the tree.

  God, he could do that every day of his life. She lit up, even when her words were sharp, and it was a dream to find someone like her to play with every day. To come home to someone who had a smile for him and a carefree attitude.

  But it was that. A dream.

  With care, she delicately placed the hideous thing on top of the tree. “Now put me down before I break your back.”

  “Woman, I was tossin’ hay bales at sixteen. You can’t break shit.”

  Her hand pulled his forehead up and he met her eyes as she leaned down. “You’re not sixteen anymore. Now put me down.”

  “As she wishes.” He turned and stepped toward the overly plush sectional, bent, and sent her flying ass over end while she screamed. “And now she’s down.”

  “I hate you.” She said it with a laugh, not a single bit of truth in her words.

  “You wish you hated me.”

  She didn’t say a damn thing, just went tight lipped as she righted herself on the couch. “Now that the tree is decorated, we get to relax and watch a shitty Christmas movie while the fire dies. I think that’s what the list stated.”

  So, she was going to ignore it then. Perfect.

  “Sounds like a good list.” Too bad he was scared to death of that part.

  Sitting with her on the couch was fine. Nothing crazy there. It was when he wanted to snuggle, to pull her in and really pretend it was a normal Christmas, things would get dicey. He had a problem with that kind of mushy ass shit she seemed to run from.

  She was too real, too likeable. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t talk about, aside from herself, and was so much smarter than he thought she’d be. Witty. Funny.

  Perfectly imperfect.

  Evin patted the cushion beside her and grabbed the remote. It wasn’t hard to find a thousand Christmas movies available to rent, and he didn’t care what she picked, because his mind was everywhere but there.

  Reluctantly, he sat in the corner where the sectional made an L, and splayed out, his arm behind his head, the other across his still bare stomach. Why didn’t he have a shirt on? He told her he wasn’t going to have sex with her, yet he’d been half naked all night.

  Fuck. Who was he kidding? If she crawled on top of him right now, it’d all be over. He wouldn’t be the nice guy anymore. No woman ever called him nice after he gave it all to them. He shook his head and lowered his arm to cover his still engorged cock.

  He should change.

  Tucker rose and almost made it off the couch when he caught her eyes on him.

  “Where are you going?” Those doe eyes of hers could stop any man in his tracks.

  She put the remote down as the intro played on the television. He didn’t have any idea what she put on.

  “I was just going to go change.”

  She looked him up and down slowly. Yeah, he needed to change. If she kept looking at him like that, he’d jump on her and prove he wasn’t just the nice guy she thought he was.

  “Why?”

  There wasn’t really a good answer to say out loud, none that wouldn’t give him away. “I’m cold?”

  Her eyes darted to the fire, then back. Nope, she didn’t believe him. Without warning, a soft, plush blanket hit his face.

  “There you go.” She smiled and sank into the couch, a matching blanket over crossed legs.

  She was an arm’s length away, and that was too far. As the movie played, one he didn’t recognize but looked like a chick flick with snow, he was lost in his imaginings.

  What he wanted to do to her. What he wanted her to do to him. And all the things they could do together.

  It took him too long to notice she was getting closer. Not even inch by inch. It was millimeter by millimeter at that point. His heart rate increased for no reason. He was a grown ass man and as nervous as a prepubescent boy at a public pool.

  Get your shit together, boy. She ain’t for you to soil.

  By the time the movie was a quarter of the way in, she was so close he could smell the natural floral scent of her hair. He didn’t know shit about flowers, but it was nice, and made him want more.

  He clenched his jaw and slammed his eyes shut. Get a grip. Calm the fuck down. Watch the stupid movie.

  Fuck it.

  He sat up a little straighter, pulled a pillow out from behind him to serve as a barrier, and dragged her shoulder down until her head hit the pillow in his lap. He could finally breathe normal now that he took the plunge, but it still wouldn’t be enough until their clothes were off, and she was crying out his name.

  She rolled her head along his thigh and looked up at him. Not with furrowed brows, or confusion, or even a drop of hesitation. She just looked at him, her deep green eyes so close he could see little specks of yellow in them. “What are you doing?”

  “Shh.” He put his finger to his lips. “Watch the movie.”

  Having her there sated his need to touch her for now. She lay there, her eyes glued to the screen as he ran light fingers through her hair. There were no questions. No hesitating when he moved from her hair to stoke down her arm.

  It felt natural.

  A knot formed in his stomach and he tried to bite it back, but it didn’t help. He needed to talk to her, tell her his story, their story. She didn’t know it, but they were bound by one fateful day they both shared. Hers no doubt a good memory, his a life changing event. One day that changed the course of his life forever and sent him on the one he found himself on in life.

  It was a good course, one he knew wouldn’t have happened if that day never transpired.

  But he didn’t have the balls yet, nor did he want to ruin a perfectly good night.

  By the time the movie was over she was sound asleep, and he considered just staying there on the couch with her, but the bed was calling his name.

  Delicately, he maneuvered from underneath her and stood. Before he did anything else, he went to her room and turned down the stark white comforter. Then, he came back for her.

  He scooped her up and took her to bed. It was a gesture she wouldn’t appreciate until the morning, if she ever would, but it was for him too. Solidifying the fact that she wasn’t there to be a sex doll for another wealthy asshole.

  She was there to be Evin.

  Just Evin.

  Chapter Nine

  Evin rubbed her eyes and opened them wide, allowing them to adjust to the dark room. The digital clock on the bedside table read three twenty-seven.

  Holy shit.

  She sat up right in a panic, patting the bed next to her. No one.

  For a moment, confusion hit, but a soft reminder of his fingers lulling her to sleep as the movie played slipped in.

  It’d been too long since the stress eating at her didn’t keep her awake until she collapsed. Too long. She smiled. What a disgustingly cute gentleman. She hated and loved that at the same time.

  But he could just…defile her, that’d be nice too.

  A soft chime alerted her senses along with the hum. Fuck. Her phone. Evin leapt from the bed and dug in her duffle bag. When she opened it, her heart sank.

  Not only was there an obscene number of missed calls from debt collectors, but there were messages and missed call
s from Jenny.

  Frantically, she read through the messages that only made her more panicked. Dad had another seizure and was coughing more than usual. Tears flowed faster than she could wipe them away. It was probably another bout of pneumonia and the doctors told her last time, if he got it again, he wouldn’t get better.

  She should be there with him, should be spending their last Christmas together in the same house. But she was torn between being homeless and bankrupt, and sitting at his bedside while she watched his life leave him slowly.

  The last messages from Jenny were less frantic. He was stable and she didn’t call the ambulance.

  Thankfully.

  That sounded awful even in her own head, but she was a realist. He was too sick to get better, and she was too broke to prolong his suffering. The only thing sending him to a hospital would do was take him out of the comfort of his home and pile on more bills.

  When her tears slowed and she could see again, she texted Jenny her thanks for keeping her updated and for staying with him through it all. She didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know how to handle the situation she found herself in.

  Jenny assured her he was stable now, but that didn’t stop her heart from hurting. The woman deserved more than Evin could ever afford to give her, but she did the hard work anyway.

  Evin tossed the phone behind her on the bed and leaned back against it. The stress she was able to let go of yesterday all seemed to come back in full force, the undertow pulling her head beneath the water with more determination than ever before. There was no getting away from it. There was only pretending it didn’t exist for a couple hours and then diving right back in.

  Hands shaking, heart pounding, Evin sat in the floor and rocked herself. It used to calm her as a child, but her problems were a bit more intense than they used to be. It wasn’t broken Barbie dolls and chipped teacups anymore.

  It was life and death, and the suffering in between.

  There wouldn’t be any sleep after that scare, so Evin stood on weak legs and cracked open her door. It wasn’t dark out there, the glow from the Christmas decorations lighting her way.

  The living space was beautiful, truly it was. It was so peaceful she perched on the arm of the couch and just looked at the tree in the eerie silence.

  When would it end? When would there be a light at the end of the tunnel? How long was the fucking tunnel? Because she was beginning to fear the dark, damp, loneliness that encapsulated her every waking moment.

  She sniffled, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. But when she opened them, her problems were still there.

  Evin bit the inside of her cheek, fighting back more tears and the stress knot in her belly, turning her dinner into something revolting. The more she tried not to, the more her eyes darted to the closed door Tucker slept peacefully behind.

  He seemed to care, even a little bit, but she knew he didn’t want to sleep with her. Maybe instead, he’d just comfort her. Could he meet her halfway in intimacy? The spot on the couch where he tenderly coaxed her to sleep told her he might.

  But the bedroom was personal. Private. Intimate.

  There was only one way to find out. She was already at rock bottom, why not find the hard place?

  Evin rose and slinked out of her long pants, an oversized sweater and underwear the only thing keeping her modesty, before padding softly to his door. It opened with minimal creaking, and she paused, studying him.

  He was splayed out on his stomach, the curve of his back and covered ass lit by the perfect amount of moon light filtering through the wall of windows.

  The way he peacefully snuggled the pillow and slept like a baby made her want to ruin it all and pounce, but at the same time, just silently watch him.

  Unfortunately, she was hard up for comfort and went in there for a reason. Be brave. She turned and closed the door with a light click, he didn’t stir. With gentle steps, she made it to the end of the bed and put her knee on the mattress.

  Why was she so nervous? Blood rushed in her ears and she was painfully aware of her erratic heartbeat when she leaned down and placed her hands on the bed, slowly crawling up.

  He stirred finally, and came to life in a half-asleep, half-awake way she found adorable. “Evin? What’s wrong?”

  She swallowed as he laid above her, propped up on his elbow. He looked down at her, and it was too dark to see his features, but she could feel the concern.

  He lifted a hand to her face, and his thumb stroked the skin beneath her eye. He must have experience with crying women as he checked for tears in the dark.

  How many women had he made cry? Hopefully not a lot.

  “Can you just hold me for a little while?”

  He breathed a sigh of relief and rested his forehead on hers before sliding back down beside her. The hand he used to check for tears snaked around her middle, tucking her against his body. When he nuzzled his face against her neck, she almost melted into a pitiful puddle and cried all over again. It was like he was sucking all the stress away and leaving serotonin in its cold wake.

  “I—I can do that.” His breath was hot in her ear, sending signals all over her body. “Whatever you need.”

  Her temperature spiked, and her cheeks tingled. She nervously swallowed and lifted her free hand until she reached back and placed her palm against his cheek.

  Be brave.

  “And if I needed something more?”

  He slowly nuzzled closer, and she felt the rigid bulk against her ass. “That ain’t why you’re here. You know that.” God that voice. The deep sleepy rumble. The way he said one thing and his body reacted in another, pulling her closer. “You don’t have to do this because you need comfort. I told you I wasn’t plannin’ on havin’ you.”

  “I know.” She didn’t know actually. Evin rolled her head and he reared up, looking down at her again. “I want to. I want you. Tell me, now that we’ve found ourselves here, that you don’t want to. We can just lay here if you want. But I do want to.”

  Fuck. She’d never said that in her life, not on one single date. What was wrong with her? She was crossing a line he set from the beginning, and did it on purpose for her own gain. But shit, she wanted it.

  He said nothing, but his hand found its way under her shirt, pulled her closer to him and slid down her body. His tight grip found its way to her hip where the pressure increased. Instinctively, her hips rolled, and she rubbed her ass against him. His grip tightened and her stomach dipped the moment he took control.

  A deep inhale filled her ear just before teeth scraped her neck, and he ground himself against her. It’d been so long since she had a man turn her on that much. She was aching, burning up inside. Her clit was throbbing and if she could beg him to slip his fingers in her panties, she would.

  But she couldn’t even breathe, let alone beg.

  “This is what you want.” He didn’t ask her a question but told her. He ground his dick against her again as the flat of his palm pressed on her lower belly, holding her against him. “You came in here for this.”

  That time, his teeth didn’t rake against her skin, he bit down. It wasn’t painful, but she gasped, his hand sliding beneath her underwear and a finger rubbed tight circles over her clit.

  “You came into my bed, now this is mine.” His finger slid between her folds and back up, teasing her relentlessly and saturating his finger to raise even more hell on her clit.

  Fuck he was good.

  He delicately kissed her throat, as his other hand appeared, skidding across her jaw and down her neck. She arched her spine, simultaneously pressing her ass against him and opening her neck up for his hand.

  He was a good ol’ boy though, she doubted he’d take the hint. The fire she wanted sated was stoked. He rose up higher, looking down at her, watching her reaction as he tormented her.

  “I won’t give you anything until you beg me for it.”

  Oh shit. That wasn’t good ol’ boy Tucker. That was bad boy Tucker.

  Tw
o fingers slid inside her, forcing a gasp instead of a beg off her lips. He hovered so close but didn’t kiss her. To feel his lips against hers, have his tongue and teeth on her, she’d die and go to hell for the pleasure.

  “Beg me.” He rolled her flat on her back and rubbed against her already sensitive slit. “Speak.”

  What the fuck was she supposed to say? She went in there thinking she’d get Texas flavored missionary at best and now he was seducing her far better than she’d seduced anyone in her life.

  Oh, how the tables had turned.

  She moaned when he rolled his hips again, his fingers trailing her throat.

  “I know what you want and I want to give it to you.” He leaned in, trailing his lips up her jaw. “I knew you’d come willingly, and begging.”

  Holy fuck. The night of mortification.

  “Fuck me.” She clenched her jaw and challenged him, his fingers around her throat tightening just the slightest.

  “Louder.”

  “Fuck me, Tucker.”

  He chuckled deep and sat up to his thighs, looking down at her form. She felt like a goddess, for his eyes only. Both hands slid to her hips and he squeezed them tight before he flipped her over and pulled her ass up by the band of her underwear. When his hand hit the small of her back, her breasts and face dropped into the mattress.

  “There she is.” His fingers trailed over her underwear from her clit to her ass. “What a fucking sight.”

  She didn’t expect the heat from his mouth on her and whimpered into the mattress as the tip of his tongue toyed with her. Holy God he was going to kill her.

  Did she need the sacrament before they fucked? What was protocol for a faithless whore who sold her body for money? Surely nothing because it was all she could afford.

  The bed rose, then dipped again the next moment, and his mouth was back on her as fingers held her underwear to the side. It was all she could do to stay still while he feasted. Hands wrapped around her thighs and pulled her back.

  “Sit up.”

  She did as she was told.

  “Take your shirt off.”