The 25 Men of Christmas

by Cassie James

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  “I already told Cyrus—”

  He cuts me off with a scoff. Isaac crosses his arms over his broad chest, the corded muscles of his forearms catching my hungry eyes again. “Fuck what you told Cyrus. If you’re not one hundred percent on board, if you’re second-guessing this or uncomfortable about it, it’s off. No questions asked and no hard feelings.”

  I sigh and sag against my desk. “Do you not think this whole thing is sort of… weird?”

  “I think it’s definitely not something you hear about every day, but we’re all friends here, Gemma.”

  “Friends don’t do this, Isaac. This is some next level bizarro crap that we’re getting into. What if I mess it up and you all decide I’m not worth the trouble? I’d rather never date again than mess up the good thing we’ve all got going here.”

  “Gemma…”

  “No, I’m serious. I have Dad, Cara, and you guys—that’s it, my entire family. I can’t stand the idea of doing something to jeopardize that.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to pressure you,” Isaac says with an easy smile that makes my stomach flip-flop.

  Why does he have to be so damn hot, and understanding, and muscly, and good at rugby… I’m being an idiot. Any other woman would kill for a chance like this. Twenty-five first dates and hot sex with men she already knows she gets along with?

  “I’ll let Cyrus know,” he says before I can tell him how idiotic I realize I’m being.

  He turns toward the door, and to his credit, his shoulders only hunch the tiniest bit as he reaches for the handle.

  “Wait.” I push off from the desk and jog across the short space toward him. I catch his bicep in a tight grip, my fingers tightening around the muscles that I haven’t touched in way too long. (Holy crap, by the way.)

  Isaac swings his head over his shoulder, eyes gleaming as he smiles down at me. Everything inside of me suddenly goes molten, and I bite my lip as I glance up at him.

  “I’m just being stupid,” I admit, a sheepish grin spreading over my lips as his own smile broadens. “It’s just nerves. I want to do this.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Your place or mine?”

  Isaac turns, wrapping me in his arms as he laughs. The vibrations from his laugh tingle through my body, and I lean into the warmth of his touch. “Dinner first.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this is supposed to be a first date…”

  I lean my head back, resting my chin on his chest as he pulls me tighter. I purse my lips and narrow my eyes before squeezing him tighter around the waist—because let’s be real, my lady bits and my brain are finally on the same page, and holy shit Isaac is so unbelievably hot.

  “What’s the point? I’m pretty sure we already know basically everything about each other.”

  “Do you know that I play D&D?” My head spins because no the heck I didn’t know that he plays Dungeons & Dragons. Are dudes this hot allowed to have hobbies that don’t revolve around them being total dime pieces?

  “Bet you didn’t know that there are a couple other D&D nerds on the team too, did you?”

  No.

  I press my lips more tightly together before breaking into a massive grin because his smile’s just that damn infectious. I thought I knew these guys, but it turns out they’ve still got the ability to surprise me.

  “Dinner it is, then,” I tell him.

  His own grin widens. “Perfect. Let’s go fuel up for dessert.”

  Twelve

  Gemma

  I stare at the box sitting on my coffee table. It’s deceptively festive with its green and red striped exterior. There’s a big gold bow sitting on the top, and Isaac’s all too pleased with himself grin tells me all I need to know about who put it there.

  My hands shake as I reach for the box, which is stupid because dinner with Isaac was easy, just like things usually are when I eat with any of the guys. And the only thing dinner really did was remind why I signed up for this series of dates in the first place.

  All of this is only awkward because I’m making it awkward. These guys are already some of the closest people to me in the entire world. A relationship with any one of them is honestly just sort of natural progression at this point.

  And a relationship with all of them?

  Well, we’ll see what the hell is happening come Christmas, I guess.

  I force the shake out of my hands as I slide the box across the sleek wood tabletop. Reminding myself that even if nothing else ever comes of this, at least I get an entire month’s worth of naughty surprises and (fingers crossed) hot sex.

  “No turning back,” I warn Isaac as I slide a finger under the flap of the small box.

  “Open it already.”

  The velvety undertone of lust in his voice is like a jolt of lightening straight to my core. And I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t already sitting, I would’ve fallen straight to my ass with how weak my knees go over the purr in his voice.

  “Last chance to send it back to the North Pole.”

  He growls, and it’s so freaking unlike him that it catches me off guard for a good half a minute. But god, hearing him all growly? It does it for me. Like really, really does it for me.

  Isaac pushes his hair out of his eyes, smirking in that panty-melting underwear-model sort of way he has, and I swear to god I’m twisting in my seat.

  “Open the damn box,” he commands.

  And holy reindeer games—did I just groan out loud?

  I dip my head and turn my attention back to the box. I peel the lid back and a shiver courses through my body at the sight of the hot pink silicone toy waiting to be christened.

  The thought of Isaac running his hands over my body before using the finger vibe to get me off is all it takes for me to push past the fear that my jelly legs aren’t going to hold me up if I try to stand.

  “Isn’t it fantastic?” he asks as I round the coffee table. He peers over my shoulder, and I know I’m blushing. Which is stupid considering we both knew where this night was leading. I shove the lid closed before hooking my arm through his and dragging him toward the hall.

  What’s the point in dragging this on any longer than need be? A sudden realization hits me, and I pause halfway down the hall.

  “Wait, have you already seen this?” He’s silent, which is answer enough. “Did you go out and get another box to put this in so I would have to unwrap it?”

  He throws his head back and his laughter fills the room. Warmth floods my belly at the sound, and I’m really into this more carefree side I’m seeing of Isaac. A secret nerd with a penchant for silliness?

  Where has this guy been hiding for the past couple of years?

  Probably behind your horny, pretending he’s an underwear model gaze, I chastise myself.

  “It’s good, right?”

  I bite my lip to stop the giggle that’s threatening to spill over. I don’t answer right away. Not because I’m playing coy or hard-to-get. That’s just not my style—never has been, never will be.

  It’s because getting Isaac to my bedroom without spontaneously combusting takes every ounce of concentration and willpower I have.

  My body practically hums with the force of blood rushing through my veins. “Gemma,” he whines as I drag him along, but the rest of the complaint dies on his lips as I push the door to my room open.

  I pull him in behind me, only pausing long enough to toss the box on the bed before turning back toward him with the wickedest smile I can muster.

  “You know I had to look up what the thing is, and I’m pretty fucking intrigued by it.” Isaac smirks down at me, like he’s more intrigued by the way I’ll react to it being used on me than the toy itself, and heat curls through my belly and down to my core.

  “Have you used one before?” he asks as he loops his arms around my waist and pulls me close.

  All my words stick in my throat at the feel of his erecti
on pressing insistently against my stomach. I suck in a sharp breath as my pussy pulses like it wants to offer him an open invitation.

  The only answer I manage is a low moan before I reach for the hem of his t-shirt.

  The beat of my heart is erratic at best as his hands fall from my waist to grip my hips tightly. I clear my throat once and then once more before my lust-addled brain can form full sentences.

  “No, but I’m pretty sure we’ll have a hell of a good time if you’d stop asking questions and start taking advantage of the fact that I’m hot, bothered, and so on edge I’ll probably cum in five seconds flat when you use it on me.”

  “Fuck, Gemma,” he groans, and his eyes go dark with want as he stares down at me like I’m the last unwrapped gift under the tree on Christmas morning.

  It’s all the invitation I need to start pushing his shirt up. His hands fall away from my hips as I tug the shirt over his head, and my breath catches in my throat when my fingers brush against his hard, clenching abs. I press my thighs together tightly, wishing desperately for relief from the heavy ache sitting between them.

  His body is literally perfect, and I know it’s official. I’ve died and gone to horny girl heaven.

  It’s a Christmas miracle.

  This better not be some O’Henry, Scrooge, ghost of Christmas could-be crap.

  I’d pinch myself if I weren’t so busy trying to touch every inch of his bare skin I can manage to get my hands on as he wrestles my t-shirt over my head. The shiver that courses down my spine at the feeling of his skin dragging across mine as he bends to drop kisses along my neck and shoulder is completely at odds with the liquid fire pouring through my veins.

  I find the waistband of his joggers as he reaches behind me for the clasp of my bra. There’s a half second of a power struggle between us where I try to push his pants down and he tries to keep me still so he can finish unhooking me.

  Isaac pushes me back gently, and I pout at him. “Arms out,” he commands, and my pout falls away in favor of sucking a shaky breath in through half-parted lips. I comply immediately because holy shit—it’s so hot when he gets all growly.

  The cool air in my room caresses my bare upper body as he tugs my bra down my arms and tosses it away from my body. The urge to reach up and cover myself—an old insecurity from the one time Colin told me my boobs were too big to be any fun—is nearly overwhelming.

  Isaac beats me to the punch, though. He catches my wrist in his strong grip before I’m even halfway toward covering myself, and he yanks me against him. His lips cover mine, tongue pressing against the seam of my lips until my mouth falls open for him.

  He’s hot and hard and just downright delicious pressed against me, and I feel like I’m on sensory overload. Every swipe of his tongue, every lingering touch against my body, every heaving breath pressing his chest closer to mine is another stepping stone closer to the edge of letting go completely.

  My hands fall to his hips again, and I slip my fingers under the waistband of his underwear, my hand sliding down to take his length in my trembling grip. Isaac stills, a groan working its way from his throat as he pulls away from our kiss and drops his head on my shoulder.

  I stroke him once under the confines of his clothes, shivering as his hot breath puffs against my neck. “Gemma,” he groans, and my shuddering intensifies. It seems I’m not the only one on the edge. “Bed. Now.”

  Again with the commands. And again, I comply without question. I kick out of the rest of my clothes while stumbling toward the bed, tripping on the leg of my pants and stumbling the last few feet.

  I catch myself on the edge of the bed, but my legs give out in some weird mixture of anticipation and arousal. I turn to sit on the edge of the bed in time to see Isaac kicking his pants the rest of the way off, a condom packet in his teeth as he stalks toward me. My stomach flip-flops, and I scoot a few feet back on the bed, laying back as he stops just at the edge.

  He tosses the condom next to the gift box and smiles down at me in a way that makes me squirm. Because there’s something other than lust hiding in the depths of his eyes, and I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to face that just yet. It’s a fleeting thought, one that’s gone as quickly as it appeared when the gentle smile turns heated in a second flat.

  Isaac nudges my thighs apart as he climbs onto the bed after me. The look in his eye as he snatches up the Christmas box is nothing short of predatory, and the same heat that’s been searing me from the inside out burns through my body.

  I bite my lip when he flips the box top up, and I groan as those predatory eyes turn again in my direction. “Not bad for day one, right?” he jokes.

  But I’m not laughing. Nothing about this super charged moment is funny.

  Hot? Yes.

  Panty-melting? Maybe if I could remember where my panties were.

  Funny? Fuck no.

  There’s too much going on. Isaac’s free hand is running over my bare skin as he wrestles the finger vibe out of the box. Arousal, hot and heavy, weighs me down as he works the toy onto his index finger. He drops his elbows on either side of my head and leans down to capture my lips in a mind-numbing kiss.

  My heart beats a thousand miles an hour in my chest as feelings I definitely shouldn’t be feeling rattle around inside of me like a wild animal in a cage.

  I get rooted firmly in the moment when—with absolutely no warning—an intense vibration dances around my clit. My mind goes deliciously blank with each second of toe-curling pleasure.

  Isaac pulls his mouth away from mine, but I reach up to thread my fingers through his tangled hair before he can pull away from me completely.

  “Gemma,” he groans, but I cut him off with another fevered kiss. Now that I know what he tastes like, I never want to let him go.

  Never only lasts a few seconds, though. Because the second he centers the vibrator straight on my throbbing clit, I lose every bit of tenuous control I’ve managed to hold on to.

  My hips surge upward as my head lolls to the side and my fingers go lax. My hands fall to his shoulders before tracing down to grip his biceps.

  My brain practically screeches to a halt when Isaac nudges my thighs further apart and settles between my legs. He grinds his underwear-covered erection against my core as he circles the vibe again. My world goes white hot, and I swear I see Christmas lights as my body gives in to the sensations crashing through me.

  “Isaac,” I moan as I thrust up against him, desperate to find relief for the ache building to a dangerous crescendo inside of me.

  Who the hell knew foreplay could be this good?

  “Holy shit, I’m gonna cum,” I stutter between heaving breaths.

  He leans into me further—our sweat slicked chests sticking together as he grinds against me until I’m panting and arching off the bed to meet his hips as he works to keep the vibrator playing on the sensitive area around my clit.

  “You’re so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart. Has anyone else ever made you this wet this fast?” he asks with a low groan.

  The filthy words get lost somewhere between my ears and my brain as my body practically short-circuits.

  “You’re ready for me, right? Because I have a bar to set, Gemma, and you will be comparing every single one of them to me for the rest of the month. Do you understand?”

  All I manage is a whimper, and he grinds against me hard before stilling and pulling the vibe away from my clit. I reach for his wrist, trying desperately to force his hand back exactly where I want it to be. Isaac pulls back completely then, working my fingers from around his wrist with gentle care.

  If I wasn’t so singularly focused on getting him back to getting me off, I might be a little more amused by the fact that his shoulder length hair is a disaster. But I can’t focus on his disheveled appearance when I’m so close to coming completely undone. I reach for his hand again, but he catches my wrist and pins my arm by my side.

  “Isaac,” I whine as I try to sit up. I might actually die from sexual frustrati
on if he doesn’t put his hands back where I need them right this second.

  He drops my wrist in favor of sliding off the bed, and I grunt in protest. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask as I shoot up into a sitting position.

  I lose the ability to form coherent thoughts when I realize the condom’s between his teeth again, and he’s hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear. He cocks an eyebrow at me, and the heat of a flush burns across my cheeks. I wave my hand in a carry on motion, and he chuckles and shakes his head.

  My mouth goes bone dry when his dick springs free from his underwear. I’ve never, ever been the “that’s a beautiful dick” kind of girl. But he’s Isaac, and apparently every part of him has to be physical freaking perfection.

  And maybe beautiful isn’t the right word for it, but I definitely can’t manage to pull my eyes away from him as he rolls the condom over his length in one swift motion. And somehow between all of that, the hot pink vibe is still on the tip of his index finger, the low hum of the vibration filling the air around us.

  “Remember, this is the standard for the rest of the month,” he jokes as his knee hits the mattress again, and I laugh even as I’m squirming in anticipation.

  “Here’s hoping it doesn’t suck then,” I quip with a giggle.

  Isaac crawls over the bed, reaching for my thighs and yanking them apart as he settles between my legs again. I bite my lip to keep from moaning way too freaking loudly for the moment, but holy hell, the feeling of the vibrator against my thigh as his erection lays heavily between us… It’s almost too much.

  I roll my hips, brushing against him slightly, and he groans before reaching for his dick. Isaac runs the head of his length through my slick folds, pausing at my entrance as our eyes meet. My heart flutters with an emotion-that-shall-not-be-named.

  My eyes fall closed as he pushes into me slowly. My breath hitches with each slow inch he gives me, and my back arches at the unexpected feeling of fulfillment that courses through me when he pauses suddenly. Like he’s struggling to keep control of himself.