Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “Spread your legs,” he whispered and I complied. His face moved from my nipples down the flat terrain of my belly and found their destination had my women’s lips. With his fingers, he parted them and as a tiny rush of cool air flowed against me, I felt a contrasting hot fluid filled me on the inside. His tongue explored my cavity and he groaned with pleasure as he licked what I’d released.

  “You taste so good,” he murmured, and I could do nothing more than rub my hands along the back of his head, unconsciously pulling him more deeply against me. His finger found my nub, and he began rubbing it slowly at first and then with an increased intensity. Flashes of desire shot out from my brain and my body responded by spreading my legs further open. I crossed my ankles, holding him against me but he seemed in no hurry to leave. In and out, in and out he probed me deeply with his tongue. I felt the ripples of my orgasm began and my nipples stood high alert, anticipating what was to come.

  “You’re making me crazy,” I whispered. “I’m going to come.”

  “Go ahead,” he whispered in return. “That will only be the first time — there will be many more.”

  Perhaps it was the tone of his voice that tipped me over the top because in that next moment my body began to convulse, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through the length of me. Chris anticipated this and as my pussy craved to be filled, he rose above me and penetrated me, completely massaging my throbbing inner flesh. Thrust after thrust, he commanded me to take him in. The orgasm had made me overly sensitive and I tried pressing against his lower belly to hold him off, but he was ravenous.

  All the tension, all the pain, was being focused on his command of my body. His hair had fallen forward over his eyes and I pushed it back, looking into his face to see that his eyes were closed. He was somewhere else, perhaps in that place where one goes just before the dam breaks.

  “Chris,” I whispered his name and like a call to arms, he renewed his passionate attack into me. I answered every thrust, rising up to meet him until I had no more strength. He held my ass from beneath, emptying himself into my waiting woman’s carafe. He stiffened, and I could feel the heat as he pumped me full. I was silent, content to watch his eyes roll back and the muscles in his chin and cheeks twitched as desire replaced his normal calm reasoning. He finally collapsed upon me and I swore I heard him gasp, “I love you.”

  Chapter 16

  Christopher

  When I awakened from the nap, Lillie was curled up against me. I laid there and watched her rest; the even breathing as her chest rose and released. I tried to count the eyelashes that rested on her rosy cheeks and I studied the way her hair curled, still moist from exertion, over her ears, downward over her breasts. She was perfect. The realization shocked me — no, maybe amazed would be a better word. How could I know what I wanted when I hadn’t met her first? How could I know that it would be in such an unlikely place and such unusual circumstances.? Of course, it had to be. She had to be like me, elemental and genuine. You didn’t find that in the dining rooms of old money. You found that where you’d grown up.

  I was content to live there a while longer, thinking about what lay ahead. There was no question that Corey had screwed up. I don’t think he could’ve imagined he would catch so many innocent people in his net of deception. Me? I may have deserved a little piece of it, but certainly Steve was the root of the evil. And here, next to me, lay the woman I wanted to protect with my life. Why was that? I knew she was resourceful, intelligent and very capable of taking care of herself. Yet, I had gotten her into this mess, but it was more than a sense of fairness that inspired me to look after her. I wanted to do it simply because I wanted to do it.

  When we got back to the States, heads would roll. Corey would answer for what he done and even though he was my brother, someone had to look after his family and if it meant kicking him to the curb to get it done, so be it. Let him go with his other woman and be happy, or at least as happy as he thought he would be.

  I would deal with Steve, with his treachery and betrayal.

  That brought me to Lillie. I had only to walk into the next room to understand once again why it was that I never wanted to be married. Yet, the more I thought about it, the fewer the objections I could come up with. How are you supposed to keep someone in your life unless you bind them to you legally? Did I trust her? With my life. Did I want her? Again, I would give my life for her. Would she deprive me of things that I still wanted to accomplish with my life? No, I knew instinctively she would stand beside me, a helpmate whenever she could. But where was the problem? Was it that I hadn’t known her very long? How much left was there to discover? I knew about her family, I knew where she’d been and what she’d done after college and now I knew she was with me. What more could there be?

  I loved her body. I loved the way she mewed like a kitten when her orgasms broke and the way she clung to me afterwards, trying to prolong the sensations by keeping me inside of her until the quaking stopped. She made me feel strong and needed. I wanted to dress her like a doll, to wrap her in furs and pile that gorgeous red hair on top of her head while diamonds dangled from her milky earlobes. I wanted to show her off, to build a layer of sophistication on top of that Midwestern common sense. That would make her incomparable.

  I knew I was going to change our travel plans. We would stay the night there, but the next day, Christmas Day, we had to head back. I couldn’t enjoy Europe knowing what I did; knowing about the trap that was waiting for me. I knew Marga would be upset, and maybe even Lillie, but I’d make it up to both of them. I gave the gentle soul next to me a hug and whispered in her ear that it was time to wake up. I slid from the bed and turned on the shower, letting the hot water wash away the tension and the negativity that awaited me. I felt her fingers on me before I heard her. She had slipped into the shower with me and now I turned to face her, lifting her until my really excited dick could penetrate her lightly swollen pussy. I leaned her back against the wall and gently, but slowly, entered her, sliding out slowly as the water rained over us. Her pearl white skin glistened in the droplets, and I fought the impulse to drop her to the floor of the shower and take her there. Instead, she put her legs around my waist and held me tight as I took the bar of soap in hand and washed her breasts, her tummy and eventually the object of my passion. She was smiling sweetly, watching me with those mesmerizing green eyes. There was no denying it. I knew for sure in that moment that I had fallen in love with her.

  Chapter 17

  Lillie

  When I awakened from my nap, I went into the living area and tears filled my eyes. Chris had been busy. He’d ordered a Christmas tree with all the trimmings. It was hugged about the bottom with several, colorfully-wrapped packages. A dining table offered a buffet of tempting foods and regional traditional baked goods. Marga bounced between the tree and the table, sticking her small finger into the whipped cream of a strawberry torte, dressed with shaved chocolate.

  “Oh, Chris, this is beautiful! How thoughtful!”

  “Isn’t it wonderful, Lillie?” beamed an excited Marga. “We’re having Christmas tonight just like the German people do!”

  “Really?” I was so glad I’d taken the time to buy them both gifts. They were hidden in the bottom of the lowest drawer in the bedroom. “I’ll be right back,” I said and went in to retrieve them. Adding them to the pile already there, I took Marga by the hand and made her a plate of food. We ate leisurely, joking and teasing one another. Afterwards, we took the elevator down to the lobby where they were lighting a Christmas tree with burning candles and singing carols in German. Many of the guests were there and joined in. Marga’s face was alight with happiness.

  Back upstairs, Chris reached beneath the tree and piled three packages onto the sofa next to Marga. “Merry Christmas, little one,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek.

  “Thank you, Uncle Chris, but I don’t understand. How did Santa know I would be here?”

  He patted her on the leg. “Well, honey, Santa let
me know that he had your gifts and asked me if I’d see to it that you got them since we were flying all over. I hope that’s okay?”

  “It is,” she giggled and began tearing open the wrapping. Chris had purchased a fur hat, scarf and muff for her. “Oh, thank you, Uncle Chris. This is so warm and soft. I love it!”

  “Go on, open the next one,” he urged her. Inside was a cooking set, complete with pots and pans, realistic looking food and even pastries. “To remind you of your trip,” he told her and she excitedly lined everything up on the sofa.

  “One more,” he told her. This was a small box and her tiny fingers picked at the ribbon that held it closed. When she opened the lid, her lips formed an O as she removed a beautiful pendant necklace and matching bracelet. They were made of small, but excellent quality emeralds.

  “Oh, my, Uncle Chris, it’s very pretty. I will take very good care of them,” she told him, giving him a hug and turning back to the cookware.

  I got up and pulled out my box for her. “See what’s in here,” I told her. When she opened the tissue to reveal the doll she’d found in Paris, she squealed and ran across the room, hugging me and pressing the doll against me to hug as well. She was the most precious child I’d ever met.

  I gave Chris his presents and he admired the sweater and then disappeared into the bedroom and emerged wearing the lederhosen. Marga laughed and laughed and although I knew he was clowning around, I had to admit his legs turned me on.

  “Okay, time for bed,” he told Marga, who protested loudly but settled down when she was told she could take the doll to bed with her.

  “Goodnight, Lillie,” she hugged me. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcomed, sweetheart.”

  She stopped mid-stride, a shadow crossing her face. “Uncle Chris, would it be okay if Lillie put me to bed?”

  He looked surprised but nodded and looked to me.

  “I’d love to,” I answered and took her by the hand. She led me into her room and closed the door behind us. Holding up a finger to be quiet, she motioned me over to her bed. “What is it, Marga? Is something wrong?”

  She shook her head. “No, Lillie, but I have to tell somebody. It’s just not right to keep it a secret any more.”

  My heart sank, wondering what she knew. “What is it, darling? What’s wrong?”

  “I want somebody to know…but…I know there’s no such thing as Santa Claus.”

  I almost choked with relief. “No?”

  “Oh, no, I’ve known that for a long time.”

  “Then why did you ask Uncle Chris about Santa?”

  She shrugged and whispered, “It seems to mean a lot to him. You know, he doesn’t have any kids and I think maybe he likes to have me around at Christmas. I didn’t want to make him feel bad. I don’t want him to know I’m growing up. It will make him sad.”

  “Oh, sweetie, your uncle loves you and he knows you’re growing up. He’s very proud of who you are, and I think if you told him about Santa, he would take it very well.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes, I do.” She seemed satisfied and crawled beneath her featherbed and wriggled in with contentment.

  After she’d gone to bed, Chris took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. He pulled off the leather pants and slid into some soft knit sport pants. He unzipped my dress and hung it up for me, pulling my slip over my head. I stood there, naked and shivering when he bent low and pulled a huge box from beneath the bed. “Merry Christmas, Lillie,” he said and helped me open the box. Inside was the most gorgeous oriental silk robe. It felt extremely sensual against my skin. The colors were those of a peacock and it set off my hair and complexion perfectly. I wriggled in it and thrust my hands into the pockets to model it for him. There was something in the pocket. I reached and pulled out a box, slender and in black velvet.

  “Oh, my,” I said, afraid to open it.

  “Go on.”

  I stood there, my hand shaking. Chris took the box from me and opened it, extracting a breathtaking yellow and white diamond bracelet. He wrapped it around my wrist and fastened it.

  “Oh Chris, you shouldn’t have done this – it’s too much.”

  “I wanted to, and you deserve it.”

  “You are so good to me,” I told him as I hugged his broad chest.

  “No more than you are to me, sweet angel.”

  Chris lifted me up and held me against himself, kissing me before he finally laid me down on the featherbed and made slow and sensual love to me. It was a Christmas I would never forget.

  Chapter 18

  Christopher

  Marga had exhausted herself, staying up later than we realized with her presents. She’d shut her bedroom door and from all accounts, didn’t go to sleep until four in the morning when I went into the kitchen at to get a glass of water and spotted the light from beneath her door. Normally I would have disciplined her, but it was Christmas and I remembered what that special time was like. “Go to sleep, Marga,” I’d warned her in a low voice through the door and the light snapped off.

  As a result, after we lifted off from the Bremen airport, Marga took over the state room; fast asleep with her doll clutched in her arm.

  Lillie and I were left to ourselves. Luke brought us a platter of Christmas-themed goodies and a bottle of my favorite wine with which to relax. I could tell that Lillie was in a peaceful mood; she kept lifting her wrist to admire the bracelet I’d given her. I’d been tempted to wear the lederhosen just to be fun, but that hardly described what lay ahead once we were back in Chicago.

  The weather was a little rough over the Atlantic. We hit turbulence and I saw Lillie stiffen and her eyes grow large as we dropped suddenly. I spoke to Luke and asked the captain if we could fly above it, but the word came back he was doing the best he could. I went to sit next to Lillie on the sofa, wrapping my arm over her shoulders and pulling her against me. “It’s okay, we have an excellent pilot, and this is one of the safest jets in the air. Just pretend you’re on a carnival ride and hold onto me, okay?”

  This seemed to calm her a bit. I thought small talk might also help, although I’d never been very good at it. “Did you enjoy your trip?”

  “Oh, Chris, how could you even ask? It was wonderful, beyond anything I had imagined. You know, you’ve taught me a lesson here.”

  “I have?”

  She nodded her head. “My parents raised me old-school, if you will. They were children of World War II parents and knew what it was to go without. So, they always saved their money, no matter how little came in. They raised me to be cautious with my money and not be self-indulgent. They taught me to look after others when they were needy. They are good parents. So, I would have never taken a trip like that on my own. I would’ve seen it as too extravagant, but if I’d done that, I would’ve missed out on not only expanding my own horizons, but actually have a good business idea.”

  This caught my attention. “Business idea?”

  She nodded, her fingers intertwining themselves in her lap. I could tell it was more than the flight that was giving her a little anxiety. I quickly hugged her shoulder a couple of times and urged her on. “Tell me about it.”

  She hesitated and then began. “So, my parents owned a bakery in what used to be an old-school neighborhood, but it got caught up in some of the city’s modernization and actually turned out to be a pretty good spot. They were doing very well, although they would never admit it. Anyway, the plan was that I would take over the business when they retired. So, I got my business degree and of course, I worked at the bakery ever since I was a little girl.

  “Well, there was a fire. No one knows exactly how it started but it wasn’t inside the building, it began back where the dumpsters sit. By the time I got there, it was mostly destroyed, and my parents were in shock, as you can imagine. As much as I wanted to cry, I had to be strong for them. So, a few days later, I helped them to pack their things and they left for Florida, to retire. My job has been to sell the house a
nd to deal with whatever was left from the bakery tragedy. Gosh, I’m not really sure you want to hear all this.”

  “No, go ahead, I’m listening.”

  “Okay, well, at first I plan to just sell the lot where the bakery stood. I could probably have done okay with it since the real estate in that area has really climbed in value. It’s on a corner, it gets a lot of traffic. There’s also a built-in customer base. But, when we were visiting Paris, I realized that there was more to Flemmings Bakery than the building and a couple of ovens. It was a tradition. It had been part of the neighborhood for years. Those were values that couldn’t be assessed and more than just a plot of land. So, I made up my mind to start over.”

  “Start over?”

  “That’s right. After all, who would be better trained to do it than me? I have the experience, I have the education, and thanks to you, I have a fresh perspective on the potential of what a bakery can really be. I’m going to borrow the funds and rebuild. It’s going to be an upscale shop, in keeping with the faster-paced development around it, but retaining the old-world flavor it had for so many years. I really think there’s a market for that. I might even include a little gift shop as an added revenue source. As soon as I get home, I’m going to start the inquiries and get the ball rolling.”

  I was choking inside. She had no idea how much I knew about her situation and the role that I’d played in taking interest in the property. My aspirations had ruined her family’s life. I was a few words away from losing her forever. I didn’t care about the bakery. It was all a game for me. I didn’t need the money, I didn’t need the headaches. I thought I did. I thought that was exactly what I was going to do for the rest of my life, but after seeing how Lillie interacted with Marga and getting closer to her, understanding how her mind worked, I realized that I was fooling myself. It had nothing to do with the game. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The only game I was playing was in my own head with myself.