The Perfect Gift: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

by Mia Ford

At that point, what else was I to do, other than just relax and soak it all in? He started the Jacuzzi, and since I had already been naked once in front of him, I didn’t feel weird at all about stripping down and jumping into the hot bubbling water. I watched as he handed me some champagne and set a plate of strawberries by the tub. His muscles shimmered in the dim lights over the hot tub, and I couldn’t help but watch as he dropped his pants, letting his cock roll out with the rest of him. I could feel my neck getting hot. Much to my surprise, he didn’t immediately jump on me. Instead, we sat and talked about my life and more hilarious stories about his childhood, and we drank two bottles of champagne.

  I was definitely a bit wobbly when it was time to get out. He stood on the steps of the hot tub, holding open a towel and helping me get out. As I stepped, my foot slipped, and I fell into Milos, my arms wrapping around his neck. I giggled to myself, feeling the electricity return as our wet skin moved across each other. I felt his arms wrap around me tightly, and I pulled back, looking deep into his handsome eyes. A small, mischievous grin pulled at his lips, and he leaned forward, pressing his mouth hard against mine. Between the champagne and the atmosphere, I was helpless to fight off his advances and found myself kissing him back with heat and need.

  His hands slid down me, dropped the towel to the ground, and pulled me against his warm, soft body. I felt his erection press against my stomach, and I immediately felt myself get wet. This man was unbelievably sexy, even in the way he kissed. His lips lapped over my mouth, tasting me with his tongue. He reached down and grabbed my ass, picked me up off the floor, and wrapped my legs around his waist.

  He walked slowly back into the penthouse, water dripping across the floor. We walked into a darkened bedroom, and he laid me down on the soft pillow bed covered in satin sheets, smelling of rose and sandalwood. I pulled myself backward until my head rested on the pillow and watched as he crawled toward me, his arms flexing and his hard cock skimming the comforter underneath us. He oozed confidence, and I was immediately turned on at how he took charge and gave me exactly what I needed.

  His hands grazed over my breasts, grasping them and kneading heavily. He dipped his head down and brushed his lips across my stomach, looking up and smiling as I whimpered quietly. Milos scooted back further, collapsing onto his ass, his knees underneath him. He lifted my ass into the air and pulled it close to his face. His warm tongue swiped across my lips, and I gasped, instantly wanting more.

  He moved his hands around, pressing his two thumbs into me and parting my lips with his tongue. He ran his mouth over my wetness and across my clit, and I arched my back and moaned loudly. As my reactions intensified, so did his movements. I found myself grabbing tightly to the iron headboard above my head. He moved his face back and forth in my pussy, driving me closer and closer to orgasm. My breath was heavy, and my eyes were closed, feeling every inch of his tongue on my mound.

  “God,” I moaned. “I want you so bad.”

  I felt the smile spread across his face as he tapped my nub and nibbled it with his teeth. He set me down and reached across me into the nightstand, pulling out a condom and pushing it over his huge throbbing cock. He stroked the shaft several times, looking down at my dripping pussy. Watching him rub his hand up and down his dick made me want him even more, and I began to squirm closer to him.

  “Is this what you want?” He whispered it, and all I could think was, fuck yes.

  I nodded and bit my lip. He grabbed onto his cock by the base and moved forward, rubbing his thick length over my wetness. He was so fucking big, and even though I probably should have been scared of it, all I could think about was feeling the whole thing inside of me.

  He pushed his head against my pussy and slid his cock slowly inside of me. He grabbed onto my hips and threw his head back. His cock was thick and hard, and it filled every single crevice inside of me. Immediately after, he started to thrust, pushing hard and fast against me. I felt my temperature rise. He slapped his hand against my clit, and I clamped my fingers onto my hard nipples. I screamed loudly, moaning and whining.

  Over and over, he thrust inside of me, bringing it almost fully out before slamming his cock back into me. I reached up and ran my fingernails across his chest, gritting my teeth and grinding my hips as I did on stage. He groaned loudly, and he rocked his hips faster against mine.

  I could feel myself reaching orgasm. My breathing sped up with quick, moaning gasps, getting louder with each powerful thrust. The explosion hit me, and I screamed out, arching my back and grabbing onto the bed. He growled when the heat of my wetness flow over his dick. He grabbed my hip and rubbed my clit harder with his other hand, sending waves of intense passion through my whole body. He pushed in hard, pulled out slowly, and then thrust with everything he had, holding it deep inside of me as he came. I could feel his cock bulging and pulsating against the walls of my pussy. I relaxed my muscles and watched him take in every last ounce of pleasure.

  He pulled out and flopped down on the bed beside me, breathing heavily with his hands on his chest. A smile washed over him. He pushed me on my side and pressed up against me, his arm draped over my waist. I could still feel my heart racing and was pretty sure that had been the most intense orgasm of my life. My energy was drained, and before I could say even a word, I felt myself slip into a blissful sleep, surrounded by real gold, real luxury, and a real man.

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  Sneak Peak: Going Deep

  Blurb

  I’m an undercover cop, so getting down and dirty with the scum of the earth is something I’m not afraid to do. I’m also a bad boy at heart, with or without the badge and gun. And women love getting under the covers with a bad boy, especially when they feel what I’m packing in my jeans…

  I’m more than willing to bend the rules if it means I get to nail the bad guy, and maybe nail some bad girls along the way. It’s all part of the job. And I do my job very well.

  I’m dead set on taking down the South Side Gang. This undercover bouncer gig got me in the door and now I’ve got Richie Silvestri in my sights. All I gotta do is wait, watch, listen, then make my move. It should be just another day in the life of Detective Danny O’Shea.

  Then she comes along: Hannah Silvestri, Richie’s little sister, the finest piece of ass I’ve seen in a long time. Hannah is smoking hot, with a mouth to match. She’s sassy and smart, and all I can think about is burying myself between her thighs.

  But Hannah is one tough nut to crack. It’s going to take more than my macho BS and bad boy charm to get those legs spread. But I’ll keep working her, cause that’s what I do. And soon I’ll sink into that hot flesh, and when I do, the whole South Side will explode in flames.

  Chapter One: Detective Daniel Dutton

  Sometimes it was hard being an undercover cop.

  Sometimes it was harder than others.

  Like now, for instance.

  It was hard as a rock.

  “Jesus, you’re good at that,” I sighed, sucking the night air in quickly through my gritted teeth. My head clunked back against the dirty brick wall I was leaning against. I barely felt it because all the sensation in my body had pooled in my cock. The girl’s tongue was hot and wet, hotter than the sweltering night air. It slid over my salty flesh like warm butter.

  I felt like I was melting, she was that good. My knees felt like they might dissolve, just puddle onto the ground, leaving my body to flounder in the cesspool of stink and rot and filth that filled this back alley.

  The thumping bass of the music inside the dive bar matched the pounding of my heart as the girl—what was her name again?—sucked the head of my cock, teasing and tasting my sweaty flesh like a refreshing Popsicle. Even the sounds she made had me thinking of yummy summer treats.

  Devouring slices of watermelon.

  Sucking a straw full of thirst-quenching lem
onade.

  Licking at those snow cones I used to get as a kid.

  A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face, and as I wiped it away, she gulped my cock all the way down her throat. I lost all thought after that. I ignored the snickers from some partiers passing the alley. I forgot about the scrape of my head against the brick. I stopped caring about the mosquitos buzzing around my face. My cock was held in a warm vise, being massaged and caressed by the smooth column of her throat and tongue, drawing out drops of precum, which she eagerly swallowed.

  That tiny movement made me grit my teeth. The sensation was too good to give up. I refused to come. My greedy cock wanted more.

  Danny O’Shea, underworld bad boy, had a reputation to uphold in this shitty town. There was no way I was gonna blow my load this quick, not knowing that this dame would spread the news of our encounter like wildfire, either furthering my reputation of a bad boy with a big cock or as a shit head who couldn’t hold back his cum for more than five minutes.

  I lived and died by my reputation, my legend, the other cops called it.

  There was no way one amazing blowjob was going to ruin that.

  I slid my fingers through her sweaty blonde hair and pulled her closer, ramming my cock even farther into the tight recesses of her mouth. She responded by clutching my ass and clinging tighter, trying to take every inch, and that did it.

  My body tensed then shuddered and I couldn’t help but moan. I erupted like a kinked firehose that had been twisted free, shooting so much cum down her throat I couldn’t imagine how she swallowed it all. My cock jerked and lunged to the beat of the music coming through the open door, but that didn’t stop this girl. She kept on sucking and licking, her mouth a siphon, drawing out every drop I had in my body until I had nothing more to give.

  She released my cock with a little pop from her lips. I glanced down to see some drops of cum glistening at the corner her mouth. Without hesitation, she wiped her lips with one finger and stuck it into her mouth with a smile.

  I let go of her shoulders, then stepped back to run my hands through my hair, pushing the sweat back through the long locks, plastering it to my head. A cool shower was in order, but of course that wasn’t on my agenda tonight. At least not yet. For now, I had other plans.

  “I think I owe you a drink,” I said as I glanced down at her. Her hand was still holding my now withering cock. She was caressing it lovingly.

  “Just a drink?” she asked coyly, gazing up with luminous green eyes that practically glowed in the sputtering light above the door. Her fake eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. “Aren’t you gonna let me ride that big thing tonight, Danny?” She pulled my cock to its full flaccid length. It twitched in response.

  I smiled and tugged a strand of her hair to get her attention. I loved blowjobs as much as the next guy, but I didn’t have time to sample all of this girl’s talents, at least not tonight.

  “I’d love that, doll, but I’ve gotta see a guy about a job.”

  “I just gave you a job,” she said.

  “Sorry, not tonight.”

  “Fine,” she said with a pouty smile. She planted one last kiss on the tip of my cock and let it go. I stuffed it back into my jeans before she opted to try again.

  “Rain check then,” she said as she got off her knees. She tugged her tight red mini dress down to cover her ass. It was a nice ass, and she was probably a nice girl, but I never dated any girl who hung out in dive bars and gave blowjobs in a back alley. Not good for my wellbeing or survival. It wouldn’t pay for anyone to put together that Danny O’Shea, bad boy renegade and criminal opportunist, was actually Detective Daniel Dutton, Vice Division, Chicago P.D.

  I zipped up my jeans then dug in my pocket for some money. I held out a twenty.

  Another pout. Her cherry lipstick was smeared all over her mouth. Not a good look for her. She plucked the money from my fingers.

  “I was hoping we could at least have a drink together,” she said softly as she caressed the money over her face.

  “No can’t do, sweetheart. Not tonight.”

  “Are you sure?” She took a step toward me, but I held up my hands. Man, this chick didn’t know when to quit. I wasn’t used to women not taking no for an answer. I gave her a firm look and shook my head.

  “Maybe another night,” I said. “Like I said, I’ve gotta see a guy about a job.”

  She shoved the money into her swollen cleavage. Nice tits to go with that tight ass. Still, a skank was a skank. I could never take her home to meet Pops, or my siblings—all seven of them in the tradition of good Irish folks—would have a field day with this girl, although my brother Paddy would have tapped that ass in a New York minute.

  “I thought you really liked me, Danny,” she said, trying to sound hurt. Her voice had taken on an annoying, whining tone, and that did it. I needed her gone. No blowjob out there was worth putting up with a whining woman.

  I dug in my pocket and yanked out another twenty. What difference did it make? I was going to expense it anyway. Her eyes brightened, and her lashes fluttered in her excitement as she held out her hand.

  The crash inside the bar came right on cue, and a beer bottle came flying through the door to smash against the opposite wall of the alley. She flinched and ducked as she glanced toward the open door.

  Inwardly, I smiled. Things were progressing right on cue.

  Another bottle hurtled through the door, hitting the dumpster and shattering into glistening shards. A body spilled into the alley and rolled several feet to land in the glass.

  The girl snatched the money from my hand, and stuffed it into her cleavage with the other bill. “Gotta go before the cops get here. See ya soon, Danny. My pussy will be hot and ready when you are.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “Now, scram.”

  She could run fast in those five-inch stilettos. I took a moment to watch her ass flex and shake as she rounded the corner onto the sidewalk, then rubbed my hands together and took a deep breath.

  “It’s show time, folks,” I said.

  I headed into the Rack ’Em Up Bar to begin tonight’s act two in the life as Dirty Danny O’Shea.

  Chapter Two: Hannah Silvestri

  The sounds and smells of the city filtered through the gauzy curtains over my windows when a whisper of a breeze came through. The night was hot and mostly still, one of those nights in Chicago where everyone and everything seems a hairsbreadth away from melting. The ancient air conditioner jammed into the other window had died two days before, and though I’d asked three or four times, no one had come to fix it yet.

  The rhythmic thump of Girls, Girls, Girls filtered through the floor from the club below. Lucky me, I lived above Pussy Whipped, my brother’s strip club. Any money my brother made went back into the club or into his pocket, not in the areas no one saw. It was a shithole apartment and he let me live there free, so in his mind, I had little right to bitch about anything. The paint was peeling on every wall, and the ceiling had a crack that leaked water in a heavy rain. This had caused a huge stain that looked disgusting and was probably festering into deadly mole, but at least it was on the ceiling, so I never looked up and tried not to think about the tiny spores burrowing not my lungs.

  A tiny bedroom lay off the living room, and the adjoining bathroom had been remodeled sometime in the eighties. The puke green was a lovely color. All in all, not a decorator’s dream, but I did have a small kitchenette, which served my purposes because all I really needed was a small fridge and a microwave. I got most of my meals from the club’s kitchen, and when I was ready for take-out, almost anyone in the neighborhood would deliver to the club, hoping for a free peepshow.

  I was comfortable enough, but the noise level of the music, not to mention the sounds of the catcalls made by its illustrious patrons and the city noise outside, made it hard to concentrate, one of the many prices I paid for being the sister of Richie Silvestri.

  I guess I should have been grateful he refused to allow m
e to dance. Such a good brother to keep his sister from stripping. As it was, I bartended the day shift, mostly because Richie thought the classier men came in during the day. There was nothing classier than a man who spent his hard-earned money going to a strip club during lunch hour and happy hour. And they all leered at me like I was a piece of meat in a butcher’s front window. Not in my most terrible nightmares would I give any of them the time of day, much less allow them into my bed. I wanted a man who wanted me, not some body dancing around a pole.

  I’d seen them all lined up at the bar and the tables around the center stage—politicians, guys in suits, office workers, the construction guys, the factory rats. Very few of them tipped the bartender well because they’d earmarked their money on the hot fantasies shaking pussy and tits in their faces. Fantasy was the right word because, underneath the erotic outfits and the cliché names, the daytime ladies would never be indulging the fantasies of these men with no future, no hope, no passion in their lives except the hard-on in their pants. These women were single mothers, women going to night school, trapped girls trying to make enough money to get back home to Boise and Omaha and Bismarck, women who’d once held big dreams for Chicago. I could have told them dreams died in Chicago, but they wouldn’t have listened. You had to live it to believe it.

  None of the women gave a damn who passed over the dollar—sometimes a five or ten—as long as it got passed. Yet the men were all looking for that hookup, not knowing that the stripper with the heart of gold, the hot body, and adoring gaze was a fantasy only in their pornographic imaginations. None of the dancers cared who these men were or what they wanted. The women wanted their money, plain and simple, because they had to feed their kids and buy that bus ticket back to failure and lost dreams.

  All of us were trapped between fantasy and reality, playing mind games and just trying to make it through our ten-hour shifts. I really hated the daytime.