Slamming her bedroom door shut behind her, Molly fell to her knees. Her breath came in quick gasps as her body tingled with excitement. Picturing the couple outside, she thought, I want that. I want their passion. Molly untied the trench coat and let it fall to the floor. I want to be so involved with someone that the rest of the world no longer exists. She let her hand stroke the tops of her cold breasts. All I have ever experienced is a luke warm existence. I want hot and cold; fire and ice.
* * * *
Hours later, Molly lay in bed wondering about everyone in town, for within an hour or so of making her snowman, the lull in the storm passed and the blizzard continued to rage with an even greater ferocity. Her Aunt called and said the opening ceremonies had been cut short and the town hall was transformed into a bunkhouse so everyone could stay over and not risk their safety. So, it was only Molly and the newlyweds in the lodge.
Thank goodness they are on the second floor. I do not need to hear them all night. She rolled over in disgust. How did I get like this? She could feel a stirring deep within her. Think they would mind a third? But she dismissed that thought as quickly as it came to her. Okay, so I’m not ready for that…but I am ready for something… something different.
A thud outside brought her back to reality. There was a faint knocking on the front door. Molly jumped up and grabbed her robe. She took a quick look at the clock and saw that it was nearly midnight. It’s either a local who tried to get home and got stranded or it’s Santa Claus.
The man at the door was frozen to the bone. His light blonde hair was windblown with flakes of ice and snow mixed in; this topped a chiseled face with quivering blue lips. The man’s frame was well over six feet but he was stooped over and clinging to a climber’s walking stick, and he was dressed only in a tux. “Help me…” he stuttered, “so cold.”
Molly pulled him inside without a second thought. “Were you working the Festival?” she asked, trying to balance his weight and move him toward her room. Molly could hear his teeth chattering as he mumbled incoherently. But she managed to get him to her bed before he collapsed completely.
He must have been one of the waiters at the dinner party, Molly reasoned as she starred at his wet tux. “Okay, we need to get you out of those clothes and into the warm blankets.”
Her midnight visitor nodded in agreement and with shaking fingers he unlaced his bowtie. And then his dazzling blue eyes locked onto hers as she eased him out of the coat jacket. “Thank you,” he managed to whisper in a raspy voice.
Something within her stirred. Molly nervously fumbled with the top button of his shirt. “Your clothes are frozen.”
In a silent response, he reached out, took hold of her hand, and helped her undo the button. Molly was mesmerized by the icy hot intensity of his touch. Their fingers interlaced and moved in unison down the row opening his shirt. She got a glimpse of a well defined, muscular chest and tried hard to remember why she was undressing this man. Hypothermia, she told herself. This is about getting this guy warm, not about getting me hot. Molly pulled away and tried to think clearly. “I’ll let you finish,” she said in what sounded to her like a pitiful whimper, “and I’ll go make you some coffee.” And with that, she quickly left a handsome half-naked stranger in her bed.
Clearly, I have lost my mind. She scolded herself while brewing a pot of instant. But am I crazy for being turned on by this guy? Or crazy for running from him when things seemed to be getting interesting? After a moment of contemplation, Molly pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin in rebellion. I did want something different and here is my chance. That rugged looking man in my bedroom is nothing like the preppie little boys I usually date. Different is definitely good.
The manager’s suite was dark when she returned. The glow from the room’s small fireplace was the only light. This may have dulled her sight but it heightened all of her other senses. Molly could hear the stranger’s ragged breathing. She could smell his faded cologne. The heat from the coffee cup in her hand intensified her courage. “Here is something hot for you…to drink,” she whispered as she placed the mug on the bedside table.
Molly slowly removed her robe. Her nipples immediately became erect through her little white nightshirt. “Would a little body heat help?” The intensity of this question cut through the air. She had never been this bold before.
The man lifted the blankets up for her to slide in. “I hear it is the best way to help someone with hypothermia.” His voice quaked in sincerity.
She only allowed for one fleeting pause before she pulled off the shirt too. Her heaving breasts seemed to bounce out with excitement leaving only a lacy thong in defiance of her plan. Molly slipped under the covers as she heard him let out a quiet moan.
His bare skin was chilled and greedy for her heat as one of his strong arms found her waist and moved her close. They spooned. Every inch of her back, ass, and legs pressed against him. The heat transfer was electrifying.
Molly snuggled in deeper. This time his moan was more urgent and she could not help but notice his growing cock on her lower back. He nuzzled her neck and let out a heavy sigh. “You are beautiful,” he murmured, his fingertips lightly stroking her waist.
Molly gently pulled away and rolled onto her side to face him. She snuggled up close again, needing their intermingled heat as much as he. “What’s your name?” Her mouth was now an inch or two from his.
“Jack,” he said as he placed a hesitant kiss on her lips.
A wave of molten lava began to churn in her core. She took one of his hands and laid it onto her breast. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jack.” A playful laugh tumbled from her lips.
He caressed the mound of flesh she had so generously given. Then he kissed her again; deeper this time. She groaned in delight as he rolled her body on top of him. One hand was now firmly cupping her ass while the other explored every inch of her spine. She lightly bit his shoulder in desire and the man underneath her growled in pleasure.
“Are you sure?” Jack managed to ask before another passionate kiss.
“I have not been surer of anything in my life.”
He smiled up at her and then lifted her higher on his torso. Molly’s breasts were now at his mouth. He adjusted to give them his full attention. Jack began to tease one nipple with his finger and the other with his tongue. She moaned. “Oh, God.”
They rolled in unison and he left her breasts to slowly lick his way down her stomach. When his tongue jutted in and out of her bellybutton, she nearly exploded inside. Her hips lifted and Jack took that as a sign to move lower. His teeth found her thong and slowly pulled them off, and then he spread her legs and used his lips on one of her inner thighs. “Jack, please,” she begged.
“In time,” he whispered as he lowered his mouth onto her most private area. “I need to lick.” He parted the swollen lips of her sex and found her clit with his tongue. “I need to suck.”
The rolls of pleasure that followed were something Molly had never experienced before. This stranger was teasing her, pleasing her, in ways that other men in her past had not even tried to do.
When he finally sat up, his erection throbbed with obvious need. She reached down and squeezed its thickness at the base. His eyes glazed with desire and he groaned. Molly’s grip began to move up and down the thick shaft. Her pussy dripped in anticipation.
“Now it’s my turn.” Molly moved one hand lower and cradled his balls while the other guided his throbbing penis toward her mouth. It glistened with his juices.
“Open for me, Molly.”
She licked the tip of his cock and then used her tongue to dance around the head. Jack’s guttural noises begged her to continue, so she began to slowly suck him into the wet depths of her mouth. Tip to root, Molly took him inside.
With her tongue twirling and her suction pulling, she knew he fought to keep control of the slow burning pace. “When I cum inside of you for the first time, I want it to be deep within your luscious pussy.”
&nbs
p; Molly released his erection from her mouth and smiled. “Only if you’re hard and fast.”
Jack leaned forward and placed a heated kiss on the lips that had just consumed him. Her body screamed with primal urges as she reached down to position the tip over her wet cunt. He plunged into her sweet spot and Molly’s internal muscles continued to draw him in and squeeze him tight. The immediate friction sent a tide of pure and hungry lust between them. This passionate heat drove them into a demanding rhythm that they rode until both hit their ultimate peak of ecstasy and collapsed in trembling release. Afterward, they laid side by side in blissful silence for several minutes. “Why did you move away, Molly?”
“Do I know you?” Molly turned to him and studied his sincere eyes. “Other than just now.” She could not help but blush.
“Not really,” he replied with hesitation, “but I do know you. And after you graduated, you disappeared.”
“I thought that I knew everyone in this town.” She stroked his cheek with a loving tenderness. “I might not have left…”
He kissed the end of her nose and a shiver went through her. “Destiny knows when the time is right.”
She snuggled into his shoulder. Their love making had done the trick. Nothing cold or frost bitten was beside her, only a hot blooded male.
“As a teenager, I watched these rich tourists come into town…” Molly struggled with the words. “And I thought I wanted what they had; their money, their important jobs, their fine clothes…” Jack sighed in acknowledgement, waiting for her to continue. “Well, I have learned a valuable lesson coming back this Christmas. I had everything I ever needed right here. In fact, I had what all those tourists wanted all along. They came from all over the world to experience the place that I was lucky enough to live in. So, I guess you could say that I ended up running away from what I truly wanted.”
Jack held her without saying a word. His fingers gently stroked the side of her arm. Does this quiet tenderness mean he understands me? And if so, what should I do about it?
Chapter Three
Molly woke to the noises of everyone returning from town. She sat up in bed to find Jack missing. In his place were a few of his belongings, which, now that she really stared at them, looked a lot like…. Were they the decorations for Mr. Frosty? It couldn’t possibly be. Her heart raced in wonder. Now I’m sure I’m loosing it.
A knock interrupted her musings, and Aunt Delores walked right in. “Rise and shine, sleepy head, we have cookies to frost before noon.”
Frost. Molly turned pale. Jack…Frost. She thought of some old stories from her childhood. Oh my God, did I just have a date with Father Winter?
“Are you all right?” Her Aunt stared at her with concern. “Molly?”
“Have the traveling gypsies arrived?” she asked in a quivering voice.
“I don’t see why not,” her Aunt replied with a quizzical look. “The roads have been open since early morning.”
“Okay then.” Molly tried to cover up her growing anxiety. “Let’s get everything done so we can get our guests back in town for the outdoor faire. I remember loving their tall tales about Father Winter.”
“Really?” This did not seem to convince Aunt D. “I thought it was your sister who enjoyed those legends. You were always the skeptic, if I remember correctly.”
* * * *
The town of Winterville was pleasantly covered in a blanket of snow, and with the clearing of the roads, the Christmas Festival was in full swing by early afternoon. Aunt Delores had delivered her decorated gingerbread cookies to one of the outdoor booths while Molly had driven the guests in and let them loose on a day of wintertime activities.
But once everything else was done, it did not take long for Molly to find a certain tent. She stood precariously outside of it and stared at the wooden sign that read, Madam Louisa’s Fortunes. “Come in, child,” a sing song voice resounded from inside.
Molly took a deep breath to calm herself, and stepped inside. The tent was warm, and an older woman dressed in a beautiful gypsy costume sat behind an ornamental table. “Louisa?”
“That’s me.” The elderly woman flashed a devilish grin. “I have been waiting for you.”
Molly tried her best to not look skeptical but she had always thought the gypsy stories and magic were a ridiculous scam put on for the tourists. However, things changed. “Can you tell me the legend of Father Winter?”
“I know what you are seeking, my child.” Madame Louisa motioned to the chair across from her and Molly grudgingly took a seat. “Father Winter, or some call him Jack Frost, comes in a blizzard of ice and snow. It is said that he seeks a woman to melt his frozen heart and to heat his soul.”
“Um….” Molly’s mind raced. “Do you know anything more…specific?”
The gypsy women laughed aloud and clapped her hands together in enjoyment. She leaned forward and tapped Molly gently on the nose. “Why don’t you tell me? Last night was filled with those specific details, I imagine. Do you not believe what your heart is telling you?”
“I don’t know what you’re saying.” Molly stood to leave. “I was wrong to come here.” And with that, she stumbled out of the tent.
This is unreal. There is no way I had a one-night-fling with a mythical Christmas character. She found the lodge’s van and pulled out the box of Mr. Frosty’s decorations she had hidden under the driver’s seat. Just overnight, the snowman she had made disappeared and the man she slept with also vanished. This box was all she had left from both of them.
Is that old gypsy right? Can I believe what my heart is telling me? Molly took the box and walked to the edge of town. She found a little secluded spot just in the tree line and began to recreate her frozen man. Three balls of snow stacked one on one. Then she added the top hat, tux jacket, and bowtie. Molly could not help but think about Jack’s intense eyes as she added the blue stones and she started to tear up as she added Mr. Frosty’s mouth. It scares me how badly I want this to work.
She took a step back and viewed her creation. “Maybe I should tip the hat a bit. I think that is what I did last night.” She shook her head in dismay. “It could be like a fairy tale. I did give it a kiss, too.”
“You don’t have to go around kissing snowmen to make me appear.”
Molly twirled around in a flash. Jack was leaning against a tree. His blonde hair was windblown and filled with ice and snow. His lips were a faint blue but his smile was warm and alive. “Is this possible? Are you real?”
He walked over and pulled her close. The kiss was urgent and demanding, and even though he was as cold to the touch as the night before, they instantly sparked a magical fire between them. “Nature gave me existence, Molly. But it is you that makes me real.”
“I don’t know what to say….” She looked again into the vastness of his deep blue eyes.
“Say that you will stay. You are the woman who makes my body burn. You are the woman who freely gives your heart and inspires me to return it.”
Their second kiss was slow and enticing. When they pulled apart this time, she noticed that he was no longer chilled. She had once again made him into a hot-blooded male. “I was already considering staying before I met you,” she said as she intertwined her fingers with his, “and now that we have met…you could not keep me away.”
The End
A Christmas Wish for Laura
Copyright © 2010 Shannan Albright
Chapter One
Laura Holt did her damndest not to roll her eyes as Jay went about ordering her around. Even on the walky-talkies his gruff bark spat out orders as if she had no brain in her head. She would have told him to shove it but she knew this to be his way of showing he cared, so she bit her tongue and kept her voice even as she pushed the talk button.
“I know there is a storm coming and I will be sure to secure the house and barn before it gets here, and yes, Jay, I will store extra coal and wood for the furnace in case the generator takes a shit.”
“Don’t y
ou get all mouthy with me, girl. I have lived in these here parts longer than you’ve been born,” his voice crackled back.
This time she did roll her eyes as she pressed the button again. “I know you have. And don’t call me girl. I’m a grown woman as you well know.” In the two years she’d known him he insisted on calling her girl even though she corrected him every time. He seemed to take perverse delight in getting under her skin anyway he could. The old codger was kind of endearing—like a stone in your shoe; once you took it out you kind of missed it. That was Jay in a nutshell. Love him or hate him, Jay was a constant in the brutal isolation of Bettles, Alaska, population fifty— mostly natives and not known to be overly friendly with outsiders.
“Yeh, I know, I know,” he groused.” Hey, by the by, did that agent of yours sell your ice sculpture yet?”
“Nope, I’m not selling it. It’s an early Christmas present to me.” She did not want to go there and most definitely not with Jay. “Hey gotta go, Jay, lock things down tight before the storm hits and all. I’ll talk to you later, and Jay…Merry Christmas.”
She didn’t wait for his reply and turned the walky-talky off to finish bundling up and get to the old barn she converted into a studio for her work. Peeking out her kitchen window, past the frosty intricate spider web design etched in the corners of her window, she scowled at the black scuttling mass of clouds heading her way in the twilight sky. A strong wind blew snow over the small road that led to town obscuring it in snow drifts, the tops of birch and pine trees bent forward from the wind’s strength.
Plucking her keys off the small kitchen table she then turned the light off, bathing the small kitchen in gloom. Not that there was much to see of the one bedroom, one bath log cabin. The kitchen like the rest of the home was small and sparse. An old Frigidaire hummed in the corner by an old sink. A small hallway led to her living room where an old but well kept brown and green sofa and matching lazy boy circled a nicked coffee table. Her bedroom and bathroom were off to the right, front door to the left. Clean and tidy with no hint of any personal attachments. For her this happened to be just a space to crash and eat, as impersonal as a hotel room. After all, she spent most of her time in the barn, crashing on the old bed in the storeroom she’d made into a bedroom.
'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas Page 27