Naughty or Nice: 6 Short & Sexy Holiday Reads

by Jessie Logan

  The awkward moment passed when Mike and Amelia rallied up the troops for a beer and grocery run. Both Jayden and Zoey were keen, but I bowed out with a not-quite-a-lie excuse of a headache. Unoriginal but not ineffective since Amelia frowned at me and told me I looked pale.

  “Go take a nap, babe,” Jayden ordered.

  “You coming?” Zoey asked Dean.

  He shook his head, squinting toward the bright, sunny day outside. “I might take a snorkel and spear-gun and see what I can find off the beach.”

  I headed upstairs as the others shouted items to go on a shopping list, and Mike’s Hellcat roared to life. The bedroom, at least, was cool and quiet, and I crossed to the window, watching as my friends and boyfriend piled into Mike’s muscle car. I closed my eyes for a moment as the Hellcat rumbled out of the drive. When I opened them and turned back toward the bed, a sparkle caught my attention, down the side of Jay’s nightstand. Crouching, I reached out and picked up…a diamond stud earring.

  Zoey’s diamond stud earring that she’d worn yesterday.

  My mind digested this slowly. Zoey. In our bedroom. While I was on the beach with Dean? While Mike and Amelia were swimming? While Jayden was…was where? And with who? And doing what?

  Indignation disappeared soon after it arrived. I wasn’t a good Catholic girl anymore, but technically, I wasn’t an adulterer, either, since Jay and I hadn’t looked far enough into the future to consider wedding bells. But I had cheated. Unsatisfactorily cheated, but still. So although it rankled, I couldn’t judge Jay’s behavior without condemning my own.

  I looked again at the earring sitting on my palm, so innocent, and yet it winked with guilt.

  A soft tap sounded on the door and it swung open, Dean braced in the doorway, dressed only in board shorts that hung indecently low beneath his carved-out abs. He directed his gaze at my statue-like stance, my palm held out stiffly in front of me.

  His bare feet whispered over the polished wooden floor as he moved into the room, glancing down at what lay in my palm.

  “I was going to ask if you’re okay, but clearly, you’re not.” Dean picked up the earring, turning it this way and that in his long, agile fingers.

  “I’m good.”

  I held out my hand, and with an arched eyebrow, he dropped the stud into my palm. I placed it carefully on top of the room’s chest of drawers and turned back to him.

  “Actually, I’m hoping to be better than good very soon, and”—I angled my chin pointedly at the jar of condoms on my nightstand—“there’s my Secret Santa gift to use.”

  His mouth curved into a slow smile. “That could be a challenge.” He stepped closer to me and cupped my chin. “Finding a hundred fuckable moments.”

  I gripped one hard biceps as I rose on tip-toe and brushed my mouth to his. “Gotta start somewhere.”

  Inhaling his breath deep into my lungs, I sealed our lips together. His hands slid into my hair then down my body to squeeze my ass, dragging me flush against him. Heat radiated off his skin, and I burrowed into it, seeking his warmth, loving the feel of his broad back muscles flexing under my fingertips. He hooked my t-shirt up over my head and popped open the clasp of my bra. My breasts fell heavy and full into his waiting hands, nipples already pebbled with anticipation. I ached in all the right places as his mouth closed over a sensitive tip and sucked it hard and deep and God, so perfectly.

  Dean released my breast and backed me toward the bed. My knees buckled when they hit the mattress, and I sprawled, flat on my back, unable to draw my gaze away as he untied the drawstring on his board shorts and shucked them down. His cock was a thing of beauty, thick and veined and looking like it could pound nails it was so fucking hard. I wanted it—wanted him—so badly that I shimmied out of my shorts and panties in double time.

  “Look at you,” he murmured, stepping between my legs and forcing my knees up and apart so my cunt lips were spread wide open for his examination.

  My pussy felt not the slightest shred of modesty or shame, and I could tell, without looking down, that I was dripping wet and ready for him. He kneeled, and with none of the hesitation I sometimes sensed from Jayden, buried his face between my legs. And I did mean buried. He rubbed his mouth and soft but stubble-lined lips, all through my soaked folds, lapping and sucking and thrusting his supremely talented tongue in and out of my cunt.

  He pulled back far enough to meet my gaze above my heaving breasts. “I love the book, Soph, but this is what I really wanted for the holidays—to be eating your sweet pussy when you come.”

  Sliding two fingers inside me, Dean twisted them at the last moment, so they were hooked high, pressing against my G-spot. “Will you do that for me?”

  I whimpered, and I guess he took that for a hell, yes because he put his mouth on me again, encircling my clit with his lips and sucking until I shattered. I was still coming in long, delicious quakes when the velvet head of his cock nudged the walls of my cunt apart. He covered me, his chest flattening my breasts, his lips firm on mine, his tongue demanding entrance. I could taste my arousal with each slick stroke of his tongue.

  He jerked his hips forward, and his cock thrust inside, so deep it bumped against my cervix, so forcefully that the heavy sway of his balls slapped against my ass. I loved it—and begged shamelessly for more.

  Dean fucked me the way he looked at me, with his entire, intense focus. And his intense focus, the way he smiled into my eyes as he dragged my hands above my head and laced his fingers through mine, told me it was all about me.

  So I gave him what we both wanted and let the raw pleasure of our connection hurl me toward a second, more intense orgasm. Tremors rushed through me as he slammed into me over and over. My cunt clenched down at the same time as my spine bowed, and even my toes curled as the orgasm steamrolled over me.

  I writhed beneath him, and he continued to pound into me, rutting faster until my tightness milked his cock into submission, and he growled through his release.

  He sagged onto me, and I hooked my legs around him, keeping him close.

  Could you live with your conscience in exchange for one moment of passion?

  Dean’s question from the night before popped into my head, and I suddenly knew the answer. And what I planned to do about it.

  “The answer to your question…” I cleared my throat and pressed my lips to the curve of his shoulder. “Is no. I can’t live with my conscience, not for only one moment of passion.”

  He propped himself up on his elbows. “What if it wasn’t just for a moment? What if I asked you to spend the other ninety-nine Secret Santa condoms on me?”

  I smiled up at him. “I can be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

  Dean kissed me fast then rolled off me and hit the floor, hauling on his board shorts. “I’ll go pack,” he said and left the room.

  I waited until I heard his footsteps moving around next door, then I crossed to the chest of drawers and stared down at the diamond earring. What the hell should I say to Jayden and Zoey? I picked up the earring and placed it on Jayden’s nightstand. Next to it, I positioned the note from the jar of Secret Santa condoms.

  100 little squares of fun the note said. I uncapped the pen Jay always left by his bed and made a minor adjustment to it, crossing out 100 and writing the number 99.

  Then I packed up my bags and walked from my old life into a new one.

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  Meet the Author

  Jessie Logan is the pen name of a USA Today bestselling romance author. She adores writing dirty, flirty stories with a touch of humor and h
eart. Romance is her way to blow off steam and escape for a little while with a scorching-hot hero.

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