Christmas Treats - A Collection of Holiday Rom-coms

by Piper Rayne

  “I love you too, Jesse.”

  “This kid is going to be so lucky to have us as its parents.”

  “And I’m lucky to have conceived since I keep decking you in the balls.”

  “Thornton men and their balls are tough, nothing stops them from getting what they want. After all, I got you, didn’t I?”

  “You say such sweet things to me,” she says, her face etched with the biggest smile I have ever seen.

  “It’s a Thornton thing, now come here and kiss me.”

  “With pleasure.” She drapes her arms around me and kisses me. This is the best Christmas ever, I got the girl and the best present a guy could ask for, a baby.

  Epilogue

  …six months later

  “I love that dress on you,” Jesse tells me when I open the door, stepping aside to let him in. He passes me and kisses my cheek, my skin tingling at the connection. I follow him to the sofa and take a seat next to him.

  “When have I worn it before?”

  “Last summer. It brings out the blue in your eyes, and showcases your tits and belly beautifully.”

  “You’re such a boob man.”

  He shrugs his shoulders at me. “Babe, I just call it as I see it and you, Reese Turner, have the most gorgeous breasts I have ever seen, especially now you’re pregnant. I hope these bad boys hang around after.”

  “You say such nice things to me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says. “So what do you love most about me?”

  “Your face.” I swallow deeply and stare at him. My breathing picks up. “I’ve always loved how soft it is,” I say, running my fingers over the scruff on his face, “it’s so much softer than I thought.” I pause, biting my bottom lip. “I would very much like to feel it between my thighs as you go down on me. Right. This. Second.”

  “Well, Ms. Turner.” He stands up and offers me his hand. Placing my palm in his, he pulls me up, and wraps his arm around my waist. “That can be arranged.” He presses his lips to mine. Pulling back, he tugs on my hand and drags me down the hallway to our bedroom—Jesse moved in two weeks ago. I know it's soon, but we are about to have a baby together so it makes sense.

  We step into the room and stop at the end of the bed. “Reese, lose the dress, get on the bed, spread those legs, and I’ll happily dive between your thighs. As I’ve always said, you have the sweetest cunt in the history of cunts.”

  “Must you use the ‘C’ word?”

  “Okay, let me rephrase, Reese Turner, you have the sweetest pussy in the history of pussies.”

  “Much better. Now have at it.”

  Placing a quick kiss on his lips, I step back and lift my hands. I begin to undo the buttons down the front of my dress. The look in his eyes right now is so carnal, my body is already thrumming at what’s about to happen. What my sexy jackass doesn’t know is that I’m naked underneath. I’ve been horny all morning, waiting for him to get home. My breasts spring free, garnering a moan from Jesse, and my nipples harden due to the cool air. He watches me intently as I continue to undo the buttons on my dress. When I reach my belly button, I slip my arms out and push the material over my hips.

  “You had nothing on underneath this?”

  “Yep,” I say, as I climb onto the bed and crawl up to the pillows. Turning around, I lay on my back and spread my legs, just like he requested. His gaze drops between my thighs. His eyes bulge wide open, much like his cock straining in his cargos, when he sees my bare lips, glistening with arousal.

  “You shaved too?”

  “Waxed,” I offer. “Hurt like a mofo, but it's ohh so smooth and sensitive.” With my eyes locked on him, I slide my finger down my slit.

  “Uhhh ah,” he growls. “Mine.” Grabbing my ankles he drags me to the bottom of the bed. A squeal breaks free and I giggle. He drops to his knees, lowers his head between my thighs, and licks me from taint to clit. Ever since I waxed, I’m super sensitive; so his tongue feels like heaven. His beard tickles me and when he groans, combined with my pregnancy hormones, it heightens every nerve ending in my nether region. He slides a finger in, and I see stars behind my eyes. “Fuuuuck,” I moan, gripping my breasts as he continues to assault me with his mouth, tongue, and fingers.

  I’m in heaven right now, orgasmic heaven.

  “Jesse,” I moan as he continues to ravish me. Gripping the sides of his head, I push him farther into me. “Yes,” I pant, “don’t stop.” He nips my clit and I explode; I climax hard. Since becoming pregnant, my orgasms have been out of this world amazing. He licks and sucks every last drop of my release from me.

  Lifting his head, his chin is coated in my juices. The liquid shimmering in the afternoon light.

  Leaning forward, I grip his cheeks and press my lips to his. My tongue licking along the seam, tasting myself, I moan at the flavor. “That was amazing,” I murmur against his lips, before slipping my tongue inside his mouth. “I love you, now fuck me.”

  “Yes ma’am.” And fuck me he does.

  We collapse onto the bed completely spent. Jesse climbs out and walks into the bathroom, while I shuffle to the edge and in a very unsexy-like manner I manage to sit up. Looking up, I see Jesse in his boxer briefs staring down at me. He cups my cheek in his palm, his eyes are full of love for me.

  “Marry me?”

  My eyes pop wide open and I stare up at him. “Come again?”

  “Marry me, Reese?” he says stepping closer to me. “I love you, I want this baby to have two parents with the same last name. I want it all with you. Sure we’ve done it backward, but I don’t care. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Rapidly I blink, processing his words. “Yes,” I quietly whisper, “Yes, I’ll marry you.” I rock myself forward to stand up to hug and kiss my fiancé but me being me, my head collides with his balls. Once again, I deck his balls. “Ohh shitballs,” I say, as I lift my hand to rub and massage his balls, something that I have become well accustomed to doing.

  “Thank God you know how to look after my balls, and you now can do it for the rest of our lives.”

  Jesse drops to his knees in front of me and he cements our engagement with a kiss that leaves me light-headed and breathless. “I love you, Reese Turner soon-to-be Thornton.”

  “And I love you and your balls, Jesse Thornton.”

  * * *

  THE END!

  Also by DL Gallie

  STAND ALONES

  Out of Nowhere

  Antecedent

  Seven Nights

  Doc Steel

  Oops

  Fractured:A Driven World Novel - coming late 2021

  * * *

  In the Dark of Night anthology

  Secrets Anthology

  FALLING NOVELS

  Falling for Dr. Kelly

  Falling for Dr. Knight

  Falling for Agent Cox

  Falling for Agent Cruz - coming early 2021

  Falling for Mr. Myers - coming mid 2021

  Falling for Mrs. Gray - coming late 2021

  THE UNEXPECTED SERIES

  When it comes to love, expect the unexpected

  * * *

  The Unexpected Gift

  The Unexpected Letter

  The Unexpected Package

  The Unexpected Connection

  THE CASTAWAY GROVE COLLECTION

  Love has arrived in the Grove

  * * *

  Oasis

  Unequivocal Love

  Five Words

  Broken Rules

  …and a few more as well.

  THE LIQUOR CABINET SERIES

  Liquor has never been so disturbingly saucy

  * * *

  Malt Me (Book 1)

  Tequila Healing (Book 2)

  Wine Not (Book 3)

  The Final Shot (Book 4)

  * * *

  The Liquor Cabinet: Series boxset

  About DL Gallie

  DL Gallie is from Queensland, Australia, but she’s lived in many differe
nt places all over the world, including the UK and Canada. She currently resides in Central Queensland with her husband and two munchkins. She and her husband have been together since she was sixteen, and although they drive each other crazy at times, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

  * * *

  Shortly after her son was born, DL began reading again. With encouragement from her husband, she picked up the pen and started writing, and now the voices in her head won’t shut up.

  * * *

  DL enjoys listening to music, drinking white wine in the summer, red wine in the winter, and beer all year round. She’s also never been known to turn down a cocktail, especially a margarita.

  Muchas Smoochas

  Halo Roberts

  Synopsis - Muchas Smoochas

  Single for Christmas, sounds like a dream come true, right? Yeah, hard pass. My marriage exploded, my date for the holidays is my cat Mitzy and I’m planning to cuddle up to a bottle of wine until this awful year is over.

  * * *

  And then Enrique opens a brewery next door...we’ve got history. He was my first, well, everything, and now we’re all grown up. If I rekindle things with him, I’m nuttier than a fruitcake...but, maybe, this fruitcake is the good kind of nutty.

  copyright @ 2020 by Halo Roberts

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews.

  For information, please contact the author.

  This a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Freya

  “Just so we’re clear, there’s no return policy when this whole thing goes to shit,” I give the bride-to-be and her mother a perky smile. Their eyes widen.

  “I beg your pardon?!” The mother exclaims, outraged.

  “It’s inevitable isn’t it?” I shrug, paying little attention to my audience of two as I continue. “True love is a garbage concept and weddings are a nonsense waste of mon-oomph!” My assistant, Charlene, swiftly hip bumps me right out of the way and I bounce off my office door, landing in a heap on the floor behind the counter. Smoothly taking each of the offended women by an elbow, Charlene begins murmuring soothing apologies. I catch ‘husband’, ‘medicated’ and ‘poor thing’ before she manages to lead them to the private dressing area furthest away from me.

  Cheeks flaming, I reach up and open the office door, crawling inside and closing it behind me. I don’t know what I was thinking, coming to work today. I own a bridal boutique and my marriage exploded three months ago...I’m clearly not a good candidate to provide an objective opinion on bridal wear right now.

  That annoying beeping sound that a large truck makes when it backs up, along with men shouting outside makes me curious enough to get up and go to my office window. I heard a few weeks ago that a new business is opening in the empty building next to my shop. Guess today is the day I get to see the owner of the new brewery.

  Situated in the downtown historic district of Edmundston, a sleepy river town on the western border of Iowa, a new business was cause for curiosity. It’s a good location, we’re just north of Omaha, plenty of folks come up from the city for the steakhouse and the winery.

  I was raised here by my aunt, Amelia. My parents died in a car accident when I was too young to have more than a few scattered memories of them. What Aunt Amelia lacked in maternal instinct she more than made up for with good intentions and boundless energy, fueled by an unparalleled addiction to coffee.

  Aunt Amelia opened this bridal boutique back in the seventies. Being a shrewd business woman, she partnered with designers in Omaha and Chicago and was able to develop a niche in vintage long before the internet dug its claws into the industry. After college, she roped me into a summer internship to help with fittings and I never left. Aunt Amelia retired a while back and moved to Florida, sold me the whole works for ten dollars with a smile and a hug.

  The historic district spans six blocks of the main street. My boutique is at one end of a linked row of shops. It’s sort of the definition of quaint, white brick, black shutters, red flowers in the window boxes, brass lights. A tasteful sign reads, “Le Bridal”, because Aunt Amelia fancied the shop to be a little bit of Paris in the midwest, luckily she had good taste and endless cash from husband number four to fund her musings.

  A small brick alleyway runs along the side of my shop and the empty building on the other side of the alley is becoming the brewery. I think it used to be a lumberyard or something industrial. It’s three stories tall, lots of old brick, wood and years of dust. Whoever is moving in has their work cut out for them, but the building has great bones. My office window offers almost nothing for a view, I can see up the alley to the front corner of the brewery, some men directing the truck as it backs up and nothing else of interest.

  Sitting down at my desk with a sigh, I consider the papers scattered across the otherwise spotless surface and my eyes fill with tears. Spineless bastard moved his shit out of the house while I was shopping with a friend. A couple of semi-apologetic texts were all I heard from him until he had me served with divorce papers at my bridal shop, the dick.

  Divorced at 28 was not the future I had envisioned when Scott and I said our vows three years ago. I guess it could have been worse. If he’d waited a few months, he could have brought his new baby mama on our anniversary date. That would have been a fun way to find out he’s slime.

  Scott and I met the summer I returned to Edmundston. He was charming and confident and he swept me off my feet. We were engaged within a year and married just before Christmas. I’d always dreamed of a winter wedding, and ours was perfect. He was a marketing analyst for a big firm in Omaha and travelled regularly to the west coast. It never occurred to me that he’d pick up a side piece, even though the signs were there...I am a naive idiot.

  The only positive is that he’s basing out of his California office now, so, with any luck at all, I’ll never see him again. Staring at the papers for another minute, I feel an odd sense of resolve sink right into my bones. I wipe my eyes and grab a pen. Scribbling my name in all of the required spaces is oddly cathartic. I toss the pen aside, neatly gather the papers into their envelope and seal it shut. Setting it carefully in the outgoing mail tray, I stand and walk to the small bathroom adjoining my office.

  According to a quick glance in the mirror, embarrassing splotches of pink dot each of my cheeks and my nose is red. I am queen of the ugly criers. It looks even worse because all of me is pale. White blonde hair in my current standard ‘no fucks given today’ messy bun, pale eyes, fair skin, pale on pale on pale...with red splotches. Ugh.

  Splashing water on my face helps, I feel almost human when I hear Charlene knocking tentatively on the bathroom door.

  “Honeybunch? You okay in there?” Charlene has dropped her professional sales voice and I hear her southern roots creeping in as I open the door and give her a faint smile. Charlene had already been with Amelia for several years when I took over the store, she transitioned over and became my assistant. Kind of like a bull ‘assists’ a cowboy in a rodeo. She tilts her head in a practiced movement that allows me to avoid being spiked in the eye by her hair as she gathers me into a bosomy hug.

  “I told you, Sugar, it’s too early for you to be out on the sales floor,” Charlene clicks her tongue, holding my shoulders and looking me over as she shakes her head sadly. “Sorry about bumpin’ you out of the way an’ all, but those ladies were plum pickins...I sold that girl the Halsey.” She nods her head as my eyes widen in appreciation, the Halsey was coated in vintage lace, very expensive...very.

  “Yes, ma’am, that sale
alone will take care of Christmas,” Charlene continues, examining her long red nails carefully before giving me a wide smile.

  “Oh, well done Charlene! Bump me out of the way anytime if it means a sale like that.” Charlene preens at my words. Staring at the envelope still sitting in my desk tray, I feel my throat tighten. “I think you’re right...I should take a little more time. I don’t know what got into me out there,” I confess, feeling my eyes well up. I dash the tears away before they can trace a path all the way down my cheeks, Charlene follows my gaze, looking at the envelope for a beat before meeting my eyes again.

  “You know what, Honey? There’s some man candy movin’ in next door that you need to go take a look at, get your mind off that two-timing jackass,” she giggles. Giggles?! “Hell if I was 20...well, ten, years younger? Yes ma’am I’d be walkin’ out the front door today.” Charlene pushes me playfully towards the door, then walks to the desk and picks up the envelope. I feel my throat closing again.

  “Are these the papers he sent?” Charlene’s eyes narrow, she is definitely not Team Scott. I nod, not trusting my voice right now.

  “They all signed and ready to go?”

  I nod again.

  “Then don’t you think another thing about it, you’re better off Honeybunch, you need to go find a real man.” Charlene’s voice drops to a dramatic growl on ‘real’ and I blurt out a laugh. She gives me a grin and then purses her lips, staring at me for a second.