by Sable Sylvan
Angelica’s hand wandered down her pants. She was already wet, wanting. She’d seen Ryan dance before, touched herself while thinking about it, but she’d never gotten to touch herself while he pole-danced for her. He only pole-danced at the club, where people were around. In private, Angelica could do whatever she frikkin’ wanted while watching the man who was soon to be her husband.
“How do you like your present, babe?” asked Ryan, dismounting from the pole.
“I can tell you once I finish unwrapping it,” said Angelica.
Ryan came up to Angelica, dancing all the way. Angelica reached right into Ryan’s shorts and tried to flip his cock out.
“Where’s the fly?” asked Angelica.
“Here,” said Ryan, putting Angelica’s hand on his waistband and making her grab it. “Rip.”
“Of course it’s a frikkin’ tear away,” said Angelica with a grin, smacking her forehead with the palm of her free hand.
Angelica pulled back, hard. The snaps on the side of the shorts made satisfying snapping sounds. Angelica tossed her half, the front half of the costume shorts, to the side. The other side fell on the ground. Ryan was buck naked, the tip of his cock wet, but nowhere near as wet as Angelica.
Angelica got up and pushed Ryan back down onto the bed. She mounted his cock, pushing her panties aside, ripping them a little.
Ryan grabbed Angelica’s butt with both his hands and leaned in to whisper something to his fated mate.
“What did I tell you about leaving the pole work to me?” growled Ryan.
“Come on,” said Angelica, tapping Ryan’s nose. “You look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to watch me ride your pole.”
“You know I can’t,” whispered Ryan huskily.
Ryan leaned back, hands behind his head.
“Wait, aren’t you going to help?” asked Angelica. “You’re just gonna frikkin’ lie there?”
“You said you wanted to show me your moves,” said Ryan. “I believe in…a hands-off teaching experience. I’ll just give you constructive criticism.”
“You can lead ‘the Big Bad Bear’ to The Wreath, but you can’t make him stop being a cocky bastard,” said Angelica.
“Not how I remember that saying going,” said Ryan.
Angelica put both hands down on Ryan’s shoulder. She rocked herself back, nearly slipping off Ryan. She pulled herself back onto him. She moved one of her hands back to Ryan’s thighs. She put one hand down on his thigh and gripped it hard, bucking onto Ryan by swinging her torso between her two arms.
“Oh, babe, you’re showing me some new tricks,” moaned Ryan, reaching up to grip Angelica.
“What happened to no touching?” asked Angelica. “If we’re playing strip club, you should know that this is a no touching strip club.”
“You don’t offer extras?” asked Ryan, reaching up to grab Angelica’s big boobs.
“Nope,” said Angelica, batting Ryan’s hands away from her breasts. “I’m a good girl. I’m just a bad stripper.”
Angelica rocked down onto Ryan. Confident in her ability to balance on Ryan’s lap, she moved the hand on Ryan’s shoulder down to her clit.
“Fuck,” moaned Ryan. “I knew I was getting a lap dance. Didn’t expect a live show too.”
Ryan burst inside Angelica as Angelica’s pussy fluttered around his cock. They’d had a mutual orgasm, a rarity, as Ryan usually made sure to bring Angelica to climax at least twice before he came. He couldn’t hold back. Angelica was just too hot. Her curves were bouncing up and down, hypnotizing him. If they’d really been at a strip club, this would’ve been the point where Ryan followed Angelica into the champagne room.
“How was that, babe?” asked Ryan, as Angelica dismounted him and lay back next to him on their big bed.
“I really do love my Christmas present. I only have one question,” said Angelica. “How the heck did you get that installed without me knowing?”
“Remember last week, when I sent you to the spa with your friend?” asked Ryan. “Never, ever trust a man who gives you a spa gift card complete with an appointment. It means he’s up to something.”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” said Angelica, sitting up and getting some air, before turning to sit on the side of the bed. “We should get going.”
“Lesson number two,” said Ryan, reaching around Angelica’s neck and pushing her hair aside. “Never turn your back on a tricky man like me.”
Ryan clasped the necklace shut. Angelica looked down. The necklace had a medium weight silver chain, split into three sections. There was one section going down her left shoulder, the other, down her right shoulder. Both the left and right chains were connected to gunmetal pewter charms. The last section of chain bound the two charms together, making the chain whole.
Angelica fingered the charms. She felt a scale pattern. At first, she thought he’d given her a Pisces themed necklace, with two fish, but neither of them was a Pisces. Then, she saw that the charms had beaks.
“Birds?” asked Angelica. “Why did you get me a necklace with birds on it?”
“On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” started Ryan.
“Two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree,” sang Angelica. “I know the song. Everyone does. But what do turtledoves have to do with us?”
“It’s a symbol of fidelity,” said Ryan. “I want you to know that even though I’m still with the club, my heart belongs to you, Angelica.”
“I don’t care about you stripping,” said Angelica, running her hands over Ryan’s body. “I know you’re loyal, Ryan.”
“You know that because you gave me a second chance, which is the other reason this necklace is special,” said Ryan. “Two turtle doves, one for each of the chances you gave me.”
“This is so much food,” said Angelica, looking backward into Ryan’s hatchback which they’d steam-cleaned the glitter out of just so they could use the car for transporting the food to the Clan Marron Thanksgiving feast. They’d cooked up a storm in their Seattle apartment, making a massive batch of rosemary roasted potatoes, jalapeno cornbread, and some marionberry fritters.
“Trust me. It’ll be gone in the blink of an eye,” said Ryan, pulling into Nuthusk, the town Clan Marron called its home.
“Then did we make enough?” asked Angelica. She zipped up her hoodie — the same bright red hoodie she’d worn on December first when she’d first seen Ryan row across that lake and put the ‘Once upon a time’ on their brand-new fairy-tale love story. She’d had it on when Ryan had come to her on Christmas Day and written their ‘Twice upon a time,’ because he hadn’t wasted his second chance to make it all right. She’d worn it That had been the start of their Little Red Riding Hood story, and there didn’t seem to be an end to their fairytale happily-ever-after. It would just keep on going, forever.
“Don’t worry,” said Ryan. “If some bad boy steals a pie, I’ll chase them down and get it back.”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” said Angelica.
Ryan pulled into the lot of Clan Marron’s Clan lodge. They’d gotten into the lodge parking lot earlier than expected, but not earlier than a familiar face, holding a baby in a papoose around her chest.
Ryan had barely parked before somebody knocked at his window. It was Emily, holding a baby like a mama kangaroo.
Ryan got out of the car once Emily backed up.
“Emily, I’d hug you, but I wouldn’t want to smush one-third of your litter,” said Ryan.
“One third?” asked Emily. “So you didn’t hear. It turned out I had quadruplets all along. Yup. One was just hidden…much like the fated mate you’re hiding. You have to introduce her to me properly, Ryan.
“Hey, I’m Angelica,” said Angelica, who had walked over from the passenger side of the car. “You’re Emily?”
“My reputation precedes me,” said Emily. “Now I’m worried.”
“Don’t be,” said Angelica. “You’re frikkin’ awesome. If it weren’t for you, Ryan
would’ve never gone up North. Trust me. Ryan and I both owe you.”
“Hon, I’ve got four men at my beck and call,” teased Emily. “I think I’ve got all the help I can get. Y’all brought food?”
“Of course,” said Angelica. “Ryan?”
Angelica and Ryan loaded their arms up with food and chatted with Emily as they walked to the lodge and placed the food on the proper buffet tables inside the lodge.
“Hey, the Council is going to need you this year,” said Angelica.
“The Council?” asked Ryan. “What did I do this year?”
“Nothing,” said Emily. “Except find your fated mate, and reform from bad boy stripper to…happily engaged stripper?”
“I’m still at the club, but I do the big shows for a crowd, not the small ones meant for finding a mate,” said Ryan. “I already found her, so it’s not like I need to do that anymore.”
“It’s great exercise, though,” said Angelica. “Keeps his abs right.”
“Well, the Council needs you to talk some sense into this year’s unwilling recruit,” said Emily.
“Who is it?” asked Ryan.
“Ethan,” said Emily.
“As in Ethan McLean?” asked Ryan. “Ho-ho. There’s no frikkin’ way the Council will manage to get him to go North. He’s a billionaire, Emily. I wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to slither out of this using some business school tricks. A shifter like that doesn’t become rich by being easily toyed with.”
“That’s where I come in again,” said Emily. “So you best head to the Council chambers now, and get ready, okay?”
“I’ll be back soon, my angel,” said Ryan, giving Angelica a kiss on the head.
“Never seen him treat a girl like that before,” said Emily. “You’re special, Angelica. And not just because you got a rock on that finger. Ryan feels something special for you. I know that feeling. Ain’t nothing like it in the world.”
“Is that why you help the Council?” asked Angelica. “Because you love love?”
Emily pointed out the window at the large black SUV that had parked outside in the lot. Angelica could see that the driver was wearing a fancy suit, but that was all she could tell from her angle.
“Heck no, Angelica,” said Emily. “I love drama, girl! And I see drama just parked in the lot.”
Emily readjusted herself and her baby before walking at a brisk pace out to the lot, where she was about to disrupt a billionaire’s life forever, with a little help from Ryan, the Council of Clan Elders, Santana Claus and his crew…and Fate herself.
The Twelve Mates of Christmas — A Sable Sylvan Christmas Spectacular
Dear reader,
In December 2018, I’m releasing twelve — that’s right, twelve — novella length romances in a brand new series called The Twelve Mates of Christmas.
This series features BBWs, werebears and other types of shifters, and of course, lots and lots of Christmas magic!
Follow Clan Marron as eight of their bad boys lose their shifts and learn the true meaning of Christmas. Then, follow the romances of Christmas demon Krampus, Santana ‘Santa’ Claus, and the ice elementals Boreas ‘Old Man’ Winter and Jack Frost.
Trust me — you’ve never read a Christmas series like this one.
Make sure to visit my Amazon author page often…that is, if you want to read my Naughtiest books yet!
There’s a sneak peek of Prancer Claws coming up after this message! Are those sleigh bells I hear ringing…or is it the sound of a billionaire getting his furry butt birched into shape?
xoxo,
Sneak Peek: Prancer Claws
He's stuffing her stocking...
Billionaire bear shifter Ethan McLean is a man who's used to getting anything he wants -- all year round, not just at Christmas. He's as grizzly as he is rich, and that's just how this humbug likes it.
When Ethan lands himself on The Naughty List for failing to find a fated mate, there's no amount of money that can buy back his mate mark -- or his shift.
He's not just going to have to pull Santa Claus' sleigh on Christmas Eve. He's also going to have to claim his fated mate -- after getting himself off The Naughty List.
The only problem is, Ethan has no idea how to do any of that without his bank account...or his shift.
And his fated mate...well, she ain't that kind of BBW.
Can Ethan make his own Christmas miracle come true, and grant some Christmas wishes for others? Maybe -- with a little help from Prancer, Santa Claus' flying reindeer.
There’s no engagement ring on Curvy Carol's Christmas list…
Curvy Carol Carter came to The Wreath, Montana for one thing -- work. She has no time to play around like a frikkin' billionaire, and that means that when lumberjack Ethan comes into Bear Claw Bakery and tracks mud all over the place, she's not about to let it slide...even if his bad boy attitude is kinda sexy.
Carol's got bigger problems. She has to come up with a theme for the Christmas part of the one and only Santana Claus -- her boss's boss. Will Ethan be an unwanted distraction...or is he just the kind of distraction she needs? When a mysterious reindeer defends her, when the bear fails to, the answer becomes a lot more muddy -- just like Ethan's footprints on the kitchen floor.
Will Ethan claim his curvy Cinderella?
Ethan's never met a woman like Carol, a woman equal parts curvy and sassy, a woman who isn't afraid to call him out on his bullshizz. The only problem is, he's got secrets...like the fact he's a billionaire, the fact he's a werebear-turned-reindeer, and why he's on The Naughty List. Will Ethan find a way to tell Carol the truth? Will Carol get the Cinderella ending she deserves? Find out -- in 'Prancer Claws.'
This story, featuring a bad boy werebear and a BBW baker, is loosely based on Cinderella.
“You wanted to see me, Avery?” said Carol Carter, coming out to the patio behind the bakery, two coffees in hand and a big puffer jacket wrapped around her curves.
“Yes,” said Avery. “First off, I wanted to ensure you took your break. You work like a machine, girl! Second, I wanted to talk to you about why you’re here.”
“I answered the temp worker listing on the company website,” said Carol with a frown. “That’s all.”
“The reason I needed a temp worker at all is because of an event that we’re catering this year,” said Avery. “It’s called Secret Santana.”
“You mean Secret Santa, right?” asked Carol.
“Yes. That’s the game, but not the project,” said Avery. “My boss, Santana, wants to hold a Secret Santana — I mean, Secret Santa — themed party. We’d all open our gifts at the same time, together.”
“We?” asked Carol. “I thought you and I were in charge of catering.”
“We are,” said Avery. “We have to stock the dessert table, but that’s easy-peasy. He’s got staff that’ll serve. We just have to bake up a storm.”
“Okay, well, baking is what I’m good at,” said Carol. “When do we start?”
“I want you to think about what pastries we sell, not just publicly, but on our catering menu and for special orders,” said Avery. “I know sugar cookies are Christmassy, but my boss wants something he’s never seen before.”
“Never seen before?” asked Carol with a laugh. “Hope he doesn’t hold his breath. Hey…what’s happening over there?”
Carol pointed past the patio, which was nearly right on the local lake, The Wreath, which had the same name as the small town. In the center of the lake was a heavily wooded island. The island had a dock, but Carol had never seen it in use…until today. Somebody was lowering a metal rowboat into the water.
“Trouble,” said Avery. “Trust me.”
“Drama?” asked Carol. “Color me intrigued.”
“You’re not worried about some drama ruining your Christmas?” asked Avery.
“Nothing can ruin my Christmas,” said Carol. “I don’t care about Christmas.”
“Are you going to be able to help with the Secret Santana
party?” asked Avery. “If you don’t like Christmas…”
“I didn’t say I don’t like Christmas,” said Carol. “I just don’t care about it. I’m getting paid extra to do what I love over the holidays. That’s a win in my book.”
“Why did you come up here?” asked Avery. “Was it just for the money?”
“Heck yeah it was,” said Carol. “Not everyone can afford to just up and leave whenever they want a change of scenery. I got to come up here, to this gorgeous town, and bake my ass off, and collect a big, fat check. My Christmas is very, very merry.”
“I guess being an adult makes it different,” said Avery. “Some people keep loving the holiday. For some people, the Christmas magic fades.”
“I never believed,” said Carol.
“Never believed in what?” asked Avery.
“Christmas magic,” said Carol. “It’s silly. A fat guy with a sack of presents? Some reindeer that can magically fly through the sky? Not real.”
“Didn’t you have presents as a kid?” asked Avery.
“No,” said Carol. “My parents sold them for drugs. That was before I was in the system. I used to joke Santa couldn’t find my house because he didn’t have my address. If Santa’s real, why doesn’t he deliver to poor kids, who need the joy the most? Riddle me that.”
“Can’t argue with that,” said Avery with a sigh. “You really never believed in Santana — I mean, Santa — Claus?”
“Never,” said Carol. “Trust me, I’m not about to start now. Look at this as a perk. A benefit. I won’t be asking to take any days off for ‘the holidays.’ Now, you were telling me about drama?”
“And why drama is rowing our way?” joked Avery, looking out at the familiar seasonal sight. “There’s a sort of…work rehab program, out there, on the island. It’s called Camp Kringle. It’s run by my boss, Santana, and his right-hand man, Krampus.”
“What kind of a name is Krampus?” asked Carol.
