Christmas Treats - A Collection of Holiday Rom-coms

by Piper Rayne

  When my eyes meet his, they stare into hazel orbs glowing with hunger. Standing above me, with his shirt half-open and lips wet from mine, Luke is my every erotic fantasy come to life. I want to pause this moment, take a picture of him and put in on the cover of every romance novel I read for the rest of my life. But looking at him isn’t enough anymore. I need all of him.

  “You’re too far away and wearing too many clothes.”

  “Let’s fix that,” he says, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. I get a quick glance at his abs before the sight is taken from me. But I don’t have time to be disappointed.

  Luke’s body gently falls on top of mine, our lips colliding in a soft kiss. Slowly, he begins to nibble down my neck, down my collarbone, until he’s nuzzling my breasts. When his mouth reaches my erect nipple, my back arches at the cool sensation. He teases me, licking and sucking until I feel like I’m about to scream. This feels like heaven.

  “You like having my mouth on you, baby?” He moves to my other nipple, causing my hips to pump up at the new sensation.

  “Yes. God, yes, Luke.” My hands claw at his back, yanking his shirt up his body. “I can’t take any more,” I cry as I try to rub myself against his leg.

  “Sweet baby, I’ll give you anything you need.” He doesn’t stop like I thought he would. Instead he gives each breast one last kiss before sliding farther down the bed. When my sex-crazed brain realizes where he’s headed, I have a moment of insecurity. No one has ever gone down on me. My hand reaches out, grabbing his hair and giving it a tug but he doesn’t move from his spot, inches away from my pussy. His eyes dart to me and a devilish smirk takes over his face. I watch, mystified as his tongue flicks out and takes a taste of me.

  “Fuck you’re sweet.” I barely hear the words. My hand tugs harder at his hair, but this time I’m not trying to pull him away, I’m trying to press him closer. Because dear sweet baby Jesus I need more. I can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building, and I’m hungry for it. His tongue flicks back and forth over my clit before he sucks it. Kiss, kiss, suck, over and over.

  “Luke…”

  “Keep your hands above your head.” My inner walls tighten at the authority in his voice and I lift my hands. A tiny flurry of sensations cascade through me as he slowly inserts his middle and index finger into my opening, twisting and igniting nerve endings I didn’t know existed. His fingers push in and out of me, making my back arch on a sob of feeling. I shatter, screaming his name as I come. My body goes rigid as a wave of immense heat washes over me, a tidal wave that keeps crashing to the shore. When I finally come down, my body feels like jelly.

  Twisting my head, I smile at him only to have that look wiped off my face as he stands and begins stripping. His body is a true work of art. Honed to perfection. The muscles that I had only imagined come to life before me as each piece of clothing is removed. His shoulders are wide and strong, biceps bulging with each move. I trail my eyes down his torso, and my breath stutters in my chest when I take in his abs. I didn’t believe that kind of definition existed outside romance covers and Hollywood stars.

  And it was all mine for the taking.

  The sound of a zipper being undone has my eyes roaming downward again. I don’t want to miss what’s coming next. I can feel my body heating under his stare. His jeans are kicked to the side and I watch in utter fascination as he fists his cock. The head purple and erect. One, two, three pumps is all I see before he closes the space between us in the blink of an eye. He moves so gracefully for a man of his size.

  The head of his cock bumps my cervix, and I feel him throb inside me. There’s a second of discomfort before my body adjusts, taking every inch of him. Wanting more of him, needing more, I angle my hips and push back against him.

  His groan vibrates through my body, encouraging me. I do it again.

  “Fuck, Belinda. I wanted our first time to be slow. But you’re testing me, baby.”

  “Don’t hold back. Don’t stop,” I pant into his mouth.

  His pumps get faster, harder, more demanding. And I relish in it. My body shakes as his powerful thrusts hit me in just the right place. Tiny explosions ricochet through my core as I rise higher and higher. My toes curl when the sensations becomes too much. Stars fill my vision and I fall over the edge of pleasure. The climax rocks through me. He fucks me harder, close to his own release. His hips lock against mine after one final pump.

  Still catching my breath, I reach for him. His body is heavy on mine, but I love the feeling of it. When he rolls away, I immediately miss the weight, but I don’t have long to pout before he’s dragging me onto him. I sigh in contentment. My eyes are heavy, sleep pulling at me. I’m draped across his chest, so full of joy that I can’t stop the words from pouring out of me.

  “I love you,” I whisper into his heated skin. I’m already asleep and miss the kiss he places on my hair and his quiet response.

  Pillow Talk

  Belinda

  Hot damn. I think I passed out for a second there.

  There’s a huge grin on my face as I stare up at the ceiling, blinking away sleep. I’m feeling light as air. I ache in delicious places and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so…peaceful. Amazing what orgasms can do.

  The sheets beside me shuffle and I turn to see a smiling Luke on his side, a hand propped up under his head.

  “I think you made me pass out,” I say shyly.

  His brown eyes are lighter than I’ve ever seen them. Hypnotizing me. Leaning forward, I hesitate for a moment before giving in, kissing him gently. He grins into the kiss.

  “I think we should talk,” he says when I break away. My smile falters. My gut twists. Those are never good words to hear. Does he regret what just happened between us? Was he overcome with pity for me that he let me live out one of my greatest fantasies only to take it away? “Wait. No, that’s not what I mean. Don’t get that look on your face.”

  Insulted, I pull back. “What look?”

  “The look you’re giving me right now. I don’t regret what happened between us. It was about time, honestly.”

  Licking my lips, I try to read his expression. “You don’t regret it?”

  “No. Not even a little.” Pushing himself up so his back is resting against the headboard, he reaches for me. I go happily into his arms, placing my head on his chest and absorbing the warmth of his strong body. “I need to explain a couple things.” He pauses, like the next words are hard to say. “About why I left last year.”

  It’s weird, but I’m not afraid of what he’s about to tell me. It’s a relief. As much as the memory of him leaving hurts, this is my chance to truly understand why he let me pour my heart out to him and then watch him walk away.

  “Okay,” I say as I sit up completely. Holding the sheet up around my chest, I cross my legs under me. “You don’t have to—”

  “I do.” He runs a hand down his face, and I can see the struggle he’s battling. “You deserve to know that I didn’t leave because of your confession. I left because I was offered a job to lead security for Joy Sperling.”

  “Wait. The figure skater?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Whoa.” I don’t have any other words. I’m shocked.

  “The day before, I’d been assigned to help out at a break in. While I was getting statements, shots were fired in an attempt to kill Joy. I was able to get her out of the way in time, but the shooter got away. Her husband came crashing into the apartment an hour later and offered me a job. He runs the top private security firm in Austin. He liked my quick instincts. The only catch was I couldn’t tell anyone. Joy’s safety could have been compromised if I did.”

  Huh. He didn’t leave because I’d thrown myself at him. “So, you left to take the job.” I say the words out loud to help them sink in.

  “Yes.” He shifts on the bed, his eyes darting away. “But”—the word is drawn out—“the decision was made because of my feelings for you too.”

  “What? That doesn’t make sense. You
had already accepted the job, right? Before I told you…everything.” A funny feeling comes over me. “You hadn’t?”

  He slowly shakes his head. “I had started to feel…different toward you. The thought of leaving hadn’t felt right. But I guess your brother caught on and”—he shrugs—“warned me off.”

  “He told you to stay away from me?”

  “That’s a nice way of putting it, but yeah. And I was fool enough back then to listen.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” I mutter, looking away from Luke and searching for my phone. I am going to call him, set up a meeting and bury him in a snowbank.

  “Bee, wait, no.” He stops me from climbing off the bed, scooping me up and placing me on his lap, skin to skin. “He was right. At the time he was right. I was working a job that wasn’t what I wanted it to be, scared shitless to shift gears and try something else. I was so afraid I would crash and burn. Then you came out of nowhere, telling me that you loved me. You were so brave. And there I was, scared to even consider a different path.”

  Luke’s words are so honest and heartfelt, tears start pooling in my eyes. He frames my face with both his hands, tracing the hollows under my eyes and catching some of the escaped liquid. “So I left. I left because I so badly wanted to prove I was worth your love.”

  “You were worth it then.”

  Shaking his head, he gives me a gentle kiss. “It’s sweet of you to say that, but I needed to believe it too.”

  Swallowing, I gather my courage. “And now?”

  “Now, well, now I really hate myself for waiting so long to get you into my arms.”

  I laugh into his chest, joy spreading through my body as his arms come around me. “And after being away for so long, my conviction that you were meant to be mine only grew. I thought about you every day.”

  “And now you’re back to stay?”

  “Yeah, Bee. I’m back to stay.”

  “Did you get a new job? How did I not know this? Brendan and Babcia can’t keep secrets, they should have told me.”

  Chuckling at how annoyed I sound he squeezes me again. “I didn’t take a new job. Nico, Joy’s husband, wants to expand his business into Toronto now that it’s become such a hub for production companies. More A-listers are going to need protection and bodyguard services while they’re up here. So I’m leading the expansion.”

  My mind is blown. Luke as a protection specialist and badass bodyguard. Oh yeah, I can definitely see that.

  “I’m so proud of you, Luke.”

  “Thanks, baby. The New Year is going to be busy, but I want you by my side. No. I need you by my side.”

  This is almost unbelievable. Never in my wildest dreams did I think Luke would come crashing back into my life, needing me, loving me.

  “This is one wild Christmas miracle,” I say against his lips. Our kiss is a long, lingering one and when we finally break apart, we’re both panting.

  “It’s not a miracle, baby, but you’ve given me the best gift. You.”

  Baking Love

  Belinda

  My eyes shoot open, heart pounding in my chest. Clutching the sheets, I look around, confused why I’ve woken up in a panic. My hand reaches across the bed for Luke but comes up empty, the sheets cold. I don’t have time to wonder where he is as a giant bang from the kitchen has me sitting up in a flash.

  Images of my kitchen falling apart around him, my precious stand mixer and stainless-steel beauties damaged, has me jumping from bed. I quickly throw on Luke’s button-down shirt from yesterday and run for it. When I enter the kitchen, Luke is standing by the counter covered in flour.

  Laughter overtakes me, and I bend over, clutching my stomach. The look of surprise and horror on his face is too much.

  “What,” I ask between huffs of giggles, “are you doing?”

  Picking up the bowl from the floor, Luke shrugs. “I was trying to make you breakfast but I’m just making an extreme mess.”

  This man makes me so incredibly happy. Pulling a clean cloth out of a drawer, I hand it to him. Giving me a nod of thanks, he begins to wipe the flour off his face. To the side of him I can see a couple eggs lined up, milk and cinnamon. The baker in me puts the pieces together.

  “How about you help me make the French toast? That way my kitchen can stay intact, and we can eat before noon.”

  He gives me a sheepish look before nodding again. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”

  Telling him I’ll be back, I skip to the washroom to go through my morning routine. Eyeing myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth, I can’t help but notice the rosy glow on my cheeks and the new twinkle in my eye. All I needed was a red dress and I could pass for the cheery Mrs. Claus. Though I don’t think Mrs. C ever had a hickey.

  When I get back to the kitchen, I see that Luke has cleaned up most of the mess. I hip check him playfully to the side. “Watch how a master does it.”

  He doesn’t stay out of my space like I thought. Instead, he steps behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle and resting his chin on my shoulder. His simple show of affection has my belly twisting up in knots. I thought a year ago my feelings for Luke were big. It was unimaginable for me to even consider loving him more than I already did. But this, this feeling of him around me, showing me his love in wordless gestures is once-in-a-lifetime big love. I feel like my heart could explode out of my chest at any minute.

  Sitting down at my small table, Luke drags my chair so close to him I’m practically in his lap. We eat entangled in each other, laughing and catching up on the little things that happened to us over the last year. Luke glows with pride as I tell him about getting a promotion at the bakery and all the classes I was put in charge of.

  “I’m so proud of you, baby. You always were a genius in the kitchen. God,” he says on a sigh, placing his fork down, “I keep thinking about those, umm, what did you call them? Sprint cookies?”

  Swallowing my gulp of coffee, I nod. “Spritz cookies.”

  “Damn, those were delicious. Way too easy to pop in your mouth and go.” I bite my lip. This is the second time in a week he’s brought those cookies up. “What’s wrong?” Luke sees the indecision on my face.

  “I, ahh, made some yesterday actually and left them at the event. Would you want to bake some with me today? I need to bring something to family dinner tonight.”

  “Are you allowed to share the recipe with me?” he asks, but there’s a knowing grin on his face.

  “I think we both know that you’re not going to tell anyone or even remember some of the more complicated steps.”

  In mock offense, he leans back. “How dare you.” I give him a shrug back, not regretting the truth bomb I just laid on him. “But yes,” he admits, “I would love to spend the day with you and bake those delicious cookies.”

  “Do you also want to come to the dinner? You’re practically family. I’m shocked Babcia didn’t tell you to come.”

  “She did actually, I just didn’t want to mention it in case my big confession last night fell flat. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable around your family if your feelings had changed.”

  I grip his T-shirt, bringing him closer to me. Needing him to hear the words clear as day. We’d said them in the heat of passion, but they also needed to be said in the mundane minutes of the everyday. Making each second more meaningful and beautiful. “Luke, I love you. I selfishly and proudly want you by my side, always.”

  “I love you too, Belinda. More than I ever thought possible. But if I come to this dinner, I refuse to hide what we mean to each other. How our relationship has developed.”

  Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. A wave of nerves hits my belly. I have no doubt my family will be happy for us. My brother is the biggest unknown. Luke is like a brother to him. Would Brendan’s warning from a year ago still hold true when he saw how happy we were together?

  “Okay, yes. I want to tell them too. It’s just…”

  “Brendan. But that’s not for you to wo
rry about. I’ll talk to him. If he’s going to be mad at anyone it’s going to be me.”

  God, I hope it didn’t come to that. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. Who knows, maybe by the time we arrive he’ll be several glasses of spiked eggnog in and be totally mellow.”

  Grabbing the plates from the table, Luke kisses my cheek before walking to the sink. “Before we get baking,” he says, leaning seductively against the oven. “You look absolutely filthy. I think a shower is in order.”

  I make a run for the bedroom, squealing when he catches me and lifts me over his shoulder. A hard slap to my ass has me shouting again as tingles of pleasure shoot through me.

  “Let’s get baking!” Luke cries out into my small apartment.

  Twisting a hair tie around my thick strands still damp from our shower, I walk into the kitchen. Luke is rubbing his hands together, smiling like a fool as I head toward the cabinets to pull down ingredients.

  “Nice sweater.”

  I grin big at him before opening the fridge. My sweater is pretty awesome. I hadn’t turned on the flashing lights yet that framed the phrase “The Holidays Bake Me Crazy,” but I was saving that surprise for later. My leggings were also a deep forest green with tiny Christmas trees. All I needed to add to the festive ensemble was a mistletoe apron.

  Bending down to grab said apron, I give my kitchen a quick glance while I tie the strings. Was I missing anything? Luke is a distraction, watching me from the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles. I really have to talk myself into baking and not taking him back to bed. He looks good enough to eat. Dare I say better than the cookies we’re about to make?

  The grin that grows across his face shakes me out of my haze. I’d been staring at him too long and not checking to make sure I have everything I needed for the spritz cookies. And of course, I was missing two vital things.