Jingle Balls: A Holiday Romantic Comedy Anthology

by Dylann Crush

  “Is something wrong?” Uncertainty flickered and she covered her bare chest. “Do you not like what you see?”

  He shook his head.

  “You do like what you see?”

  He nodded.

  She exhaled in relief and dropped her hands, confidence restored. The poor boy was just awestruck. One of her many flaws, Tiffany was vain as hell. She knew she was good looking, would go so far as to call herself gorgeous. Like all the women in her family, she had thick dark hair, dark eyes, and a killer rack. She also had a trim waist and a tight ass. The hair and boobs were a blessing. The rest she had to earn.

  The look on Nick’s face right now made all her hard work worth it.

  In only her heels, thigh-high stockings, and panties, Tiffany stalked toward him, back straight, breasts jutting forward. She came to a stop directly in front of him, so close her nipples grazed his chest every time one of them breathed.

  He made that sound in the back of his throat again, something caught between a growl and a moan.

  The contact affected Tiffany too. As did his reaction to her. Liquid heat gathered between her legs.

  “Holy hell, Tiffany.” He lifted a hand and gently brushed her hair away from her face. “I think you almost fucking killed me.”

  She shot him a wicked grin. “The night’s not over yet.”

  “True.” Nick laughed, blue eyes sparkling in recognition of the challenge. “We haven’t even gotten started.” His gaze raked over her body. “You know that expression about a kid in a candy store?”

  “I may have heard of it.”

  “That’s how I feel. I’m overwhelmed.” He licked his lips. “I can’t decide what sweet thing I want to put in my mouth first.”

  His words lit a fire beneath her skin. “I think I understand what you mean.” Her voice came out breathy.

  “You do?”

  Tiffany nodded. “I want so many things, I don’t know where to begin.” She reached for his belt.

  “That’s a good place to start,” he said.

  She giggled. “I like how you do that.” She unbuckled his belt and fed the leather through the loops.

  “Do what?”

  “Make me laugh while turning me on.” By the time his belt hit the floor she’d taken care of his zipper.

  He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants. “Well get ready, because there’s nothing funnier-slash-sexier than a naked ass man with his socks still on.”

  She giggled again. “You’re not naked.”

  “Not yet.” He bent, stripping off his shorts.

  Tiffany got a brief glimpse of the bulge that had been straining against his boxer briefs before he was on her.

  Nick lifted her, fingers digging into her ass as he carried her to the couch. He settled her across the cushions and covered her with his body, kissing and licking and biting. He nipped her earlobe and grazed his teeth across the sensitive skin of her neck, then traced a path down the center of her chest with his tongue.

  Tiffany writhed beneath him, wanting to slow down and kiss and speed up and fuck all at the same time.

  He suckled her breasts, worshipping them with his mouth until she was so revved up, each pull on the taut peaks of her nipples tugged at something deep in her core. She pressed her legs together, desperate for the friction that would ease the tension building inside.

  “So good,” he groaned, nuzzling her belly button. “You taste so damn good.” He moved back up her body, taking her mouth in a searing kiss that left her breathless. He sucked her lower lip, then traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue.

  Tiffany ached to touch him. She reached between their bodies, seeking the thick ridge of his erection where it pressed against her hip.

  “Not yet,” he breathed. “Oh god, not yet.” He grabbed her hands.

  She moaned in protest but his grip on her wrists was unrelenting. “Sugarplum, if I let you touch me right now it’s all over.”

  “Maybe I want it that way.”

  “We’ll get there,” he promised. “But first, I want to taste all of you. Can I trust you to be a good girl or are you going to end up on Santa’s naughty list?”

  “I’m already on the naughty list,” she snapped.

  “Fair enough.” He chuckled. “Here’s how this is going to work. Put your hands on my shoulders. If you take them off, I stop.” He released her wrists. “Think you can do that?”

  Tiffany gripped his shoulders. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

  Without wasting any time, Nick bent his head and slipped his tongue beneath the lace of her panties.

  Tiffany moaned and closed her eyes. Yes. That’s where she needed him. She threaded her fingers through his hair, guiding his head lower.

  He paused and she growled in frustration.

  “Why’d you stop?” she demanded, eyes snapping open to glare down at him.

  He propped his chin on the gentle slope of her abdomen. “Hands.”

  “Oh.” She blew out a sigh. “Right.” Tiffany hadn’t even realized she’d moved them. This was going to be harder than she thought. She gripped his shoulders again, bracing her hands against the strong curve of muscle and bone. “I feel like I’m getting ready to ride a roller coaster.”

  Nick’s laugh was low and dirty. “Then I guess you better buckle up.” He wrapped his fingers around the edge of her panties and pulled them down, sliding her shoes off at the same time.

  “Don’t you wanna take off the thigh-highs too?” she wondered.

  “No way.” He murmured. “Those stay.”

  That does it for you, hm? Tiffany smiled to herself. But then his face was between her legs, kissing the soft flesh just above her stockings. She dug her nails into his back, determined to hold on tight. His mouth brushed against her center and she moaned. He spread her with his fingers, tongue plunging inside.

  “Oh, that’s good.” She kicked her feet out, opening for him, eager for more. His lips moved back and forth over her mound, as if determined to learn each intimate feminine curve.

  Nick continued to stroke her with his tongue, long, slow, lazy licks, like he didn’t want to miss one bit. Tiffany sighed, the sweet smooth strokes coaxing waves of pleasure to ripple through her, each one a little bigger and more intense than the last. Hands still locked in place, her hips began to move, rising to meet the next wave as it came.

  His tongue flicked over her clit. Just once. But it was enough to make her gasp, the intense prick of sensation so sharp and bright it was almost painful. Her body tensed, waiting for him to do it again. He teased her, tongue circling but avoiding the bullseye. Around and around. Each circle wound her tighter, the promise of release coming closer and closer.

  And that’s when she heard it.

  He was humming.

  I only do it when I’m eating something really delicious.

  Tiffany’s entire body flushed as Nick’s words from earlier this evening floated through her lust-addled brain. Then she realized exactly what song he was humming and she wanted to laugh but it came out as a cry of pleasure when his hands slipped under her bottom, cupping her cheeks and lifting her higher, bringing her to his mouth so he could feast.

  Only when her orgasm hovered so close she could feel it like a charge of static electricity in the air, did Nick’s tongue finally stroke her clit again. He didn’t back off this time, but kept at it, flicking and swirling and sucking until—oh sweet fucking heaven on earth—her body jerked, legs going stiff as her release crashed over her. Tiffany gulped lungfuls of air, panting, her heart still racing as residual tremors coursed through her.

  Nick lifted his head and grinned at her. Another aftershock rocked her body. He raised an eyebrow. “The ride hasn’t come to a full and complete stop yet, huh?”

  She laughed, the movement triggering another small burst of fireworks inside her, like a mini encore orgasm. Finally, her body relaxed, legs going slack. Tiffany released her grip on Nick’s shoulders. Her fingers were cramped and curle
d into claws. But she’d held on. And it had been worth it.

  Nick crawled up her body and kissed her.

  “You were humming,” she told him.

  “I can’t help it.” He kissed her again, voice husky. “You’re delicious.”

  It was strange, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. Strange, but fucking hot. She wanted to taste him too. Wanted to rock his world the way he’d just rocked hers.

  She scooted out from underneath him and stood. Her stockings had begun to slip, and she took a moment to straighten the lacy elastic at the top of each thigh.

  “Happy Holidays to me.” Nick whistled. He was sprawled on the couch, blond hair mussed and falling over blue eyes dark with lust as he watched her adjust her thigh-highs. One hand wrapped around his engorged cock.

  “No fair!” Tiffany protested. “You said I get to play with that.”

  “I keep my promises.” He released his grip, hands falling to his sides. “It’s all yours.”

  Tiffany scooted closer, grinning as she inspected her new toy. “This is better than the time I got a snow cone machine for Christmas.”

  Nick chuckled. “Maybe you’re on Santa’s nice list after all.”

  5

  IT’S NOT THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR… OR MAYBE IT IS

  Tiffany tended to her little plant family and watched the sunlight sparkle off every surface outside her big bay window. Last night had been magical and this morning promised to be just as magical. The city was candy coated in a white glittery shell. The snow had continued to fall through the night, and as the temperature dropped this morning, a thin crust of glittery ice had formed over the top.

  Normally, she’d be bitching about the weather and all the ways it would inconvenience her life. But this morning, she saw the beauty and promise of a new day. It didn’t hurt that she was off from work today and a fine piece of ass was currently singing in her shower.

  She started on the coffee, smiling to herself as she heard Nick belt out the end of the song. It was the same song he’d performed for his finale at the fundraiser yesterday, the same tune he’d hummed last night as he’d done incredible things to her body.

  The bathroom door popped open, steam escaping, revealing Nick, towel wrapped around his hips, blond hair wet and tousled, smile so dazzling it put the bright scene outside to shame. For a moment, it was like her teen fantasies had come to life. She grinned at him. “Are you sure you were never in a boy band?”

  He laughed. “Just the Bucking Hams.”

  “Not the same.” She nodded at the brewing pot. “I’m making coffee, want some?”

  “Sure.” Nick padded over, nuzzling her neck. “I should warn you though,” he said, mouth moving up her throat while his fingers loosened the knot of her robe. “I like a lot of sugar in my coffee.” He lifted her, setting her on the kitchen counter.

  Tiffany gasped as he dropped to his knees and spread her legs apart. He’d showered, but he hadn’t shaved, and the rough scrape of his cheek against her inner thighs was enough to put her over the edge almost immediately.

  “So sweet,” he rasped, plundering her aching center with his tongue.

  She groaned and raked her fingers through his damp hair, urging him closer.

  This time he didn’t stop her but kept his mouth firmly in place, eating her out like she was his last meal on earth. Tiffany closed her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure coursing through her, luxuriating in the attention of a man who clearly enjoyed what he was doing.

  A moment later, he began to hum, and she giggled as she came.

  “I’m sorry,” Nick said, getting to his feet. “I really can’t help it.”

  “I like it,” she admitted. Her lips curved in a shy smile. “I have a confession.” She slid off the counter. “I hate Christmas music, but I’ve always loved that song.” She trailed her fingers across his bare chest. “When you sang it yesterday for the finale, there was a moment you turned to look at me…” she slid her palms over his pecs. “And I thought, if I didn’t love that song before…” Her hands drifter lower, tracing the line of hair at his navel. “Then last night, when I realized what tune you were humming…” she grinned. “Well, now I really love that song.” Tiffany went up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  He bent his head, kissing her back with enthusiasm. Then he broke away suddenly. “Wait. Did you say you hate Christmas music?”

  “I warned you I was a grinch.” She tugged his towel loose, and as it dropped to the floor she said, “though I don’t think it’s my heart growing three sizes right now.”

  He snorted with laughter. “About that…”

  “Yes?”

  “Be right back.”

  She blinked in confusion, then caught on as he returned, condom in hand. He’d run out for some last night before moving their fun and games from her couch to her bed. And now, apparently, to her kitchen. “Here?”

  Nick nodded, bringing her down to the floor with him. “Don’t tell my grandmother,” he said, rolling the condom over his hard length. “Yaya would never approve.”

  Tiffany laughed, the sound turning to a groan as he entered her. She sprawled on her back, her thick robe cushioning her from the hard tiles. At the same time, the unyielding floor seemed to make everything more intense. Unlike a bed or a couch, there was no give here, nothing to absorb the impact of his thrusts but her own body.

  “I’m so close,” he rasped, his breath warm on her throat. Nick clasped her hips and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

  “Oh.” A soft moan of surprise escaped her as she straddled him. Turned out this position on a hard surface was just as intense. Maybe even more so. As she moved over Nick, Tiffany felt each stroke of his cock inside her in exquisite detail.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” he grunted as she rode him. He bucked, going even deeper. “I can’t,” he moaned, moving faster. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  “Neither can I.” She braced her hands on the floor, grinding herself against him. Her climax tore through her and she cried out.

  Nick pulled her mouth to his, mixing the sounds of her pleasure with his as he pumped inside her one final time.

  She collapsed on top of him, gasping for air as her body throbbed, the fading pulse of her orgasm still rippling through her.

  Nick stroked her back, fingers moving gently up and down. Once their heartbeats slowed and their breathing returned to normal, he asked, “Good?”

  “Very good.” Tiffany propped herself up on Nick’s chest and grinned. “I promise I won’t tell your yaya.”

  He smirked. “I think she’d like you.”

  Something delicate and precious unfurled in Tiffany’s chest. “You do?”

  He nodded. “Christmas is next week. Are you heading home to Buffalo?”

  “I don’t go home ‘til next month. Ukrainian Christmas is January seventh.”

  “Greek too,” he smiled. “Orthodox anyway. That’s when we do all the boring church stuff.”

  “But you also celebrate regular Christmas?” Tiffany wondered. “Not, ‘regular’, but you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah.” A warm smile lit his features. “My family would never miss a chance to party. Or eat. There’s nothing like Greek Christmas cookies. Kourabiedes and melomakarona…” he groaned.

  “Lots of humming?” she teased.

  “A full concert.”

  She giggled and snuggled against him. If someone would have told her yesterday that in twenty-four hours she’d be lying on top of a naked man on her kitchen floor, talking about Christmas cookies, Tiffany would never, ever, have believed it. She almost didn’t believe it now. Bathed in winter sunshine, she felt happier and more hopeful than she’d felt in years—perhaps ever. “Maybe that conk on my head did affect me,” she whispered.

  He shifted so they were side by side, facing each other. “Why would you say that?”

  “I can’t remember when I’ve ever laughed so much. Or smiled so much,” she admitted.


  “Maybe it’s the company,” Nick suggested, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

  “Maybe,” she agreed. “Whatever it is, I’m about to do something I’ve never done before.”

  “Have sex on your kitchen floor?”

  “We just did that. Remember?”

  “Then what new thing are you planning to do?” he wondered.

  “I’m going to invite a man home for the holidays.”

  “You are? Who?”

  Tiffany punched him in the shoulder. “You, you smart ass.” She knew he was teasing, but this was still scary for her. “I’m serious. Would you like to come home with me for Christmas next month?”

  “I will.” He nodded. “On one condition.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, nerves curling her insides like fancy ribbons on a Christmas present.

  “Come home with me for Christmas next week.”

  She inhaled. The light that had flickered to life inside her ever since meeting Nick blazed even brighter, until Tiffany was feeling downright incandescent. “Okay.”

  He smiled hopefully. “Okay?”

  She nodded. “How can I resist? I heard something about these amazing cookies…”

  Nick laughed, that merry twinkle she was coming to adore sparkling in his blue eyes. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tight around her.

  As her very own Saint Nick kissed her again, Tiffany decided maybe this time of year wasn’t so bad after all.

  Also By Melonie Johnson

  Sometimes in Love series

  GETTING HOT WITH THE SCOT

  SMITTEN BY THE BRIT

  ONCE UPON A BAD BOY

  About Melonie Johnson

  Melonie Johnson—aka #thewritinglush—is an award-winning author of smart and funny contemporary romance who loves dark coffee, cheap wine, and expensive beer. And margaritas. And mimosas. And mules. Basically any cocktail that starts with the letter m. Declared a “fizzy, engrossing new voice” by Entertainment Weekly, her debut series, SOMETIMES IN LOVE, has appeared on the Amazon Best Books of the month, and was featured in Cosmopolitan and Woman’s World. A Star Wars junkie and Shakespeare groupie who quotes both Yoda and the Bard with equal aplomb, find her on Facebook and follow her on Instagram at @thewritinglush. Her next book, TOO GOOD TO BE REAL, a hilarious heartfelt love letter to romantic comedies, is set to release in summer of 2021. To stay up to date on all her book buzz, sign up for the Writing Lush Newsletter HERE.