'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas

by Stacey Espino

  “Nonsense.”

  “Then kiss me and prove it.”

  ****

  Had she been that transparent? She was afraid. Most people would have never seen the fear inside her. They’d have never looked beyond her sexy makeover and new attitude. But Frank, he was different. He noticed things nobody else would. A shiver of anticipation shot through her.

  She leaned forward, touching her lips to his.

  His hands, instruments of torment and delight, began to wander over her body, undressing her, tossing her clothes to the floor, teasing her with silky strokes and firm pinches. For a moment, she almost protested. It was daylight, the windows were open, and they were expecting someone from the city to call about their petition to get the apartment number changed. All devices she wanted to use to protect her heart.

  Frank deserved so much more. He deserved all of her.

  She gave herself over to his ministrations, tangling her fingers in his hair, stroking down his back, flipping his shirt tails from his jeans and unbuttoning his waistband.

  All the while, she maneuvered him, cleverly she thought, toward the privacy of the bedroom.

  “Uh, uh.” Frank resisted her pull, leading her instead to the window.

  “Right here?” She glanced out. The blank windows of the building across the street stared back at her. “Now?”

  “Can’t think of a better time.”

  Nor a better place. The window represented more than a sheet of glass looking out over the city. It was the portal through which death had claimed its victims. To make love here, in front of the window, would be a proclamation to the demon, to the world, that she wasn’t afraid anymore.

  She wasn’t afraid! The demon was confronted. True, she hadn’t defeated it, suspected that no one really won against a demon, but it had departed. That was enough…for now, anyway.

  Pressing her nude torso against Frank’s, she sighed as his mouth slipped down her body, nibbling, licking, caressing. Using his fingers, hands, and tongue he brought her closer and closer to ecstasy. He was attuned to every nuance of her moans and murmurs, sensing just when to pull her back from the brink.

  Damn it, she was ready to fall this time. No hesitation, no self sabotaging, no fear of getting hurt.

  “I need to tell you something, Frank.”

  His hands stilled, and she had the impression he was holding his breath. Had his heart stopped beating, fearing the words she might say?

  “On Christmas Eve, I was confused, lost…angry. When I came on to you, I was just looking for sex, for a release from the pain. Something to help me forget my emotions for a few hours.”

  To her relief, Frank didn’t say anything. Just listened. He was really good at that. Hell, he was good at a lot of things.

  “But right now, this isn’t just sex. You saved me, not only from that fire and brimstone monster, but from my personal demons. I owe you my life, but I want to give you something else. My love. I love you, Frank. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else. I know your wife’s death nearly destroyed you. I don’t even know if you want to have a relationship again. But for the first time in my life, I don’t care. I love you whether or not you love me back.”

  He stood, swung her into his arms, and carried her over to the couch, dropping her unceremoniously on the soft cushions. His blue eyes, full of emotion seemed to touch her soul as his body possessed hers. Once his cock was fully hilted deep inside her, he pulled out just as swiftly, leaving only the tip inside. She wrapped her legs around him, endeavoring to urge him deeper.

  Frank kissed her, taking his time with the exploration, sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbled, licked. The taste of peppermint, whether from gum or a leftover candy cane, scented his breath and his taste. No matter how she writhed in his strong grip, his kiss went unhurried, building her desire to a fevered pitch. After an interminable time, he thrust in, deep and satisfying. Then, before she could give in to her building climax, he pulled out, prolonging the sensual torture.

  He moaned. “You are so wet.”

  “Wet for you.” She nuzzled into him, sucking on the pulsing vein at the base of his neck. She was rewarded with a deep groan. Then, he slipped deep inside her, holding her hips tightly while he thrust. All she could hear was the wet erotic sound of their bodies joining.

  Amanda’s climax swirled around her, mixed with an emotion she’d never felt before while in the throes of passion. This wasn’t just sex. This was love..

  Climax no longer out of reach, Amanda let the ecstasy wash over her with a gasp. Boneless and floating on euphoria, she barely noticed as Frank tucked her legs around his neck.

  He thrust into her, his movements urgent and unrelenting. With his eyes closed and head thrown back, she could see him reaching for his own climax. He only needed a slight push. She slipped her hand around, wet her fingers in her own slick juices and caressed his balls.

  “Cum for me, now,” Amanda commanded. She didn’t have to ask twice. With a howl, Frank’s body stiffened and his cock throbbed deep inside her, the heat of his seed filling her womb.

  After a few beats, he sank to rest his forehead against hers as if joining their minds as well as their bodies.

  He released her legs and snuggled into her neck, breathing deeply. Long moments passed while she lay, eyes closed, listening to the hum of the city outside as life went on. His weight lifted and a cool breeze touched her skin. She propped open one eye. Frank was bent over, presenting her with a titillating view of his backside while he foraged on the floor.

  “You getting dressed?”

  Frank turned, raising an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, lady, I am not done with you yet.”

  He perched on the edge of the couch and she stroked up his legs toward his cock, amazed he was aroused again so soon. Grabbing her hand, he squeezed. Something hard bit into her palm.

  “What?”

  “I was going to wait until next Christmas to do this, but you know, life is too short not to spend every minute you can with the people you love. Amanda, will you marry me?”

  The emerald cut diamond winked at her from the gold setting of the ring. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision into a rainbow of light. Emotion clogged her throat. She’d been waiting for this all her life, ever since she’d married off Barbie to GI Joe and sent them to live in the two-story pink dollhouse. However, waiting wasn’t believing, and she’d never believed true happiness would ever happen to her. But it had. It was. It really was!

  She launched herself into Frank’s arms with a cry. “I love you!”

  “Does this mean you will?”

  “Yes.” She would marry Frank, and they would live happily ever after—even if she had to fight every demon in the city to do it.

  The End

  The Little Red Ribbon

  Copyright © 2010 A. D. Blackburn

  Chapter One

  Ah, the joy of the holiday rush. James shouldered his way through crowds of people who were all doing the same exact thing—searching for a last minute present.

  Fortunately, when James walked in or out of an establishment, people tended to move out of his way of their own volition. One of the benefits of being a tall, scary bastard.

  He walked out of the jewelry store, package in hand, and made his way towards a parking lot that was equally as packed as the stores.

  Fucking Christmas.

  He was of the opinion that holidays were porn stars. Christmas would be the over-used, over-hyped, over-paid double penetration gal on the roster who wasn't really that great on film. She possessed no real merit, but fans flocked to buy her films anyway.

  The Christmas season was somewhat of a sore spot with him. Aside from the annual party at his clubhouse, he didn't celebrate the occasion and he for damned sure didn't hand out gifts.

  Except one.

  Now to get it back to the club and under the tree. The girl at the counter thankfully gift-wrapped it already so there was nothing else to do with it but wait for toni
ght to be over.

  Drink himself into an egg-nog induced stupor and wait.

  James jerked his helmet off the seat of his bike and straddled the primer black, vintage ’57 Panhead Harley Davidson. He lifted the neoprene mask from around his neck to cover his face. Before slipping on his leather gloves, he gave the ring on his left hand a twist.

  “Merry Christmas, baby,” he muttered, before he sent the pipes roaring into the chilly air.

  ****

  There was only one time during the year when the Diabolus Venator clubhouse was bright and cheerful. Normally, the décor reflected a sense of style that could only be described as Addams Family meets Ed Hardy. It was dark, strange and full of tattoos. Tonight, however, there was a beautifully decorated Fraser fir in the corner, complete with various gifts underneath. There was a banquet spread out on what was normally a large pool table, complete with turkey, stuffing and various cakes and pies. Around the bar and the metal support poles were blinking white and colored lights. On the large flat screen television was the mandatory twenty-four hour run of A Christmas Story.

  The attendees were setting off the holly jolly ambience.

  Caius leaned against the bar, beer in hand. “Where is he?” he muttered.

  “You know his routine,” Kane chimed in from behind the bar. “And I don't see why you want him here so bad. He's just going to be cranky and it's going to put a kibosh on the whole Good Will to Men thing.”

  Caius tipped his beer back. He had a point. James wasn't known for his warm and fuzzy receptions. Truth be told, he tended to be a bastard and in the grand scheme of things it would have been better to let him stay away and lick his own wounds.

  But he was the President of the Diabolus Venator Motorcycle club and it was Christmas.

  Caius had a great present for him this year.

  “He needs to be here tonight, man. That’s just all there is to it.” Caius looked over his shoulder to a table in the corner. There were several women talking and laughing. The red head in particular caught his attention. “Besides, I have a gift for him that might take the edge off.”

  Kane followed Caius' eyes towards the table and stared back at him.

  “Oh, please tell me you are not going to let that beast have at your sister. That's just cruel. You should let one of the other girls take care of him tonight.”

  Caius popped his neck and shifted his weight around on the bar stool. “First of all, you are an ass. Secondly, I'm not going to let James have at anything. I just think the two of them have a lot in common and they may do each other some good. You make it sound like I'm passing her off as a fuck-toy or something. Besides, she needs it just as bad as he does. They are both adults. Both broke all to fuck. She knows it's no strings.”

  Caius looked at his sister again. To the outside eye, she seemed like a sweet girl. But he knew what was really going on in her head and in her heart. She was broken, bitter and in desperate need of a good lay and a little down time from her own shattered psyche. Just like James.

  “Fuck!”

  Speak of the devil.

  The entire room shifted their gaze to the looming figure in the doorway. He stormed in, shaking off the snow that accumulated in his long black hair and on the shoulders of his leather jacket. Amidst the subtle strains of Sinatra's version of White Christmas, James' heavy footfalls and his muttering played off of the walls in the joint.

  “Merry Christmas, haus.” Caius pushed a fresh beer down the bar towards him.

  James palmed the beer and tipped it up, draining it. He leaned over the bar, tossing the empty bottle into the trash before motioning for Kane to slide him a new one. He went beast on the top of the bottle, twisting the cap off with his teeth before he spit it out into the trash.

  “I lost Hannah's present,” he muttered.

  From all corners of the room, heads turned towards him with looks of absolute horror. The only people who didn't hear were the women in the corner.

  The club was a uniform entity. They moved together, loved together, shared time honored traditions, worked together and even mourned together when they had to. Hannah was, at one time, as much of an ingrained part of the Diabolus Venator institution as James was. They all knew that James mourned his wife, even five years later. There were certain things he did to honor her.

  The annual Christmas gift to his wife was one of those things, and if he lost it for good who knew what beast would take over the one already controlling his mind?

  “Where'd you last have it?” Caius asked.

  “Put it in my jacket the second after I bought it. I've searched everywhere. I even rode back to the mall to see if it was in the parking lot or something. By the time I got back, the damn place was locked up tighter than a virgin’s ass.” He stopped and drained the second beer. “Guess it's time to give up the ghost anyway.”

  “Nah, man. Don't even think like that. We will find it.”

  Two men came forward from the back of the bar, taking on the charge of heading out into the snowy evening. James nodded to the men. “It was, uh, it was wrapped in a kinda white shiny paper, with a little red ribbon.”

  Without another word, the men went out of the club door.

  And James grabbed yet another beer.

  Caius slid onto the stool next to him, watching him stare at the flat screen above the bar.

  “Don't stress, boss. Hull and Tee will find it. Knowing how much they respect you, they’ll turn the town over to find it. What was it this year, anyway?”

  James sniffed. “Diamond bracelet.” He tipped up his beer. At the rate the guy was drinking, he'd be flat on his ass before Caius had a chance to introduce him to Mads.

  “Heavy artillery. You don't usually go that glitzy. Something special about this one?”

  ****

  James shook his head. As much as he hated to admit it, there was some validity to Caius' statement. His annual Christmas present to his long dead wife was usually something simple, something that she would have wanted in life. Last year, it was a pair of matte black platform Jimmy Choo Stilettos. The year before, he had a fully patched Diabolus Venator leather cut made for her. Hannah was never a big fan of the bling. Maybe it was fate that the bracelet was lost. Maybe it was her way of telling him that it was time to stop and move on with his life.

  He needed a break. It was hard enough trying to force himself through the holidays without her. He'd never been a fan of the holiday to begin with but after he found Hannah dead on the floor Christmas morning, it ratcheted his disdain for the hyped holiday ten-fold. Had she not been the one who originally instituted the annual Christmas party, he'd have booted everyone out and emptied the contents of the entire bar into his gut.

  James needed more than a break. The strings holding his sanity together were tensile. Any moment, they could snap and he was only doing it to himself. He'd satisfied a need to avenge her passing by taking out the crank bastard who'd killed her. Life should be happy for him. But every passing day grew one day closer to Christmas. One day closer to the anniversary of Hannah's death.

  Another day closer to his own.

  James smacked his hand down on the bar and stood up, killing the last of his beer. “Has everyone exchanged gifts?”

  Caius nodded. “And there's still plenty of food on the table. I can get the prospect to fix you a plate.”

  “I'm good. I'm going to head out though. Need to ease some of this tension. There's too much Peace on earth and good will towards men in this piece.”

  Caius smiled. “Thinking of getting the boys wet?”

  James smirked. “Something like that.”

  “Well,” Caius polished off his drink and slid it across the empty bar towards the trash. “I have someone I want you to meet, then. She's a nice girl and she knows that whatever happens here, there are no strings. She's lost too, so she's in that whole weird 'I am an island' mode. Maybe you guys can hit it off. At least for tonight.”

  James nodded, and then adjusted his shoulders
, creaking the leather encasing his torso. He followed Caius to the table in the corner and his gaze was instantly drawn to the redhead. Her body was tight. She had a sweet smile and a pretty little pixie face. Her eyes were the sexiest thing about her. They were such a rich brown that under the bar lights they almost appeared orange. The fire he saw in them reached right into his jeans and nearly stroked him to life. Yeah, if this was the girl C wanted him to meet, he'd have no problem working her out. He'd be more than happy to do so as long as she kept looking at him with those eyes.

  “Good evening, ladies.” Caius slid into an empty chair next to the redhead and put his arm around her, pulling her in for a quick kiss on the cheek. “Tina and Megan you already know, James.”

  “Evening ladies,” James said, pulling up a chair from a nearby table.

  “And this lovely vision of a Grinchy bitch is my sister, Mads.”

  Chapter Two

  Mads smacked Caius in the chest and reached across the expanse of the wooden table, her eyes fixed on James. He accepted her outstretched hand and the moment their skin touched, she felt a rush of electric tingles. His hands were large, calloused, the epitome of what a man’s hands should be. Dangerous and dark, he was everything that her brother was but more. Long black hair hung to his shoulders with subtle threads of silver, just enough to catch the light. He was rugged with a strong jaw, thick gorgeous lips and just the right amount of scruff on his face to tease a girl in all the right places. But most of all, his eyes caught her attention. They weren't blue or green or even gray. They were gun metal and framed with thick black lashes.

  Her libido instantly went out of control. Caius invited her to the Christmas party for the sole purpose of introducing her to this man and ending her dry spell.

  Mission accomplished.

  Her fingers lingered in his and she saw him smile.