by Ashley Ladd
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Christmas Miracles
ISBN #978-1-906811-45-7
©Copyright Ashley Ladd 2008
Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright December 2008
Edited by Michele Paulin
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2008 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
Christmas Spirits:
Ghost of Christmas Past
CHRISTMAS MIRACLES
Ashley Ladd
Dedication
I’d like to dedicate this book to friends old and new, present, past, and future, to forgiving and forgetting, and most of all, to the spirit of Christmas.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
The Beatles: Apple Corps Limited
Elvis: Elvis Presley Enterprises, Inc.
Pillsbury Doughboy: The Pillsbury Company
Sears: Sears Brands, LLC Ltd.
Wal-Mart: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. Corp.
Meatloaf: Platinum Enterprises, Inc.
Rocky: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc.
Scrooged: Paramount Pictures
Chapter One
Tiffany Davis stared at her ornately decorated tree tied up with fancy, blue and silver ribbons. It was absolutely perfect. The built-in, multicoloured lights merrily twinkled at just the right intervals. A gorgeous angel with serenely flowing blonde hair topped the tree.
Beneath the tree, beautifully wrapped gifts were piled high, also in blue and silver to match. Only she knew they were empty, merely for decoration and affectation. They were as fake as the pine scent she’d sprayed on the metal monstrosity, as fake and empty as she was.
She snorted. Who was she kidding?
This year, like many of the previous ones, she found Christmas depressing. An only child of deceased parents, divorced, childless, she was alone in the world.
Oh, sure, she had a lot of friends. Go-to-lunch kind of friends. None had invited her to join them for their Christmas celebrations.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Her cousins had invited her, but they were a day’s drive away, and she couldn’t justify travelling so far with the astronomical gas prices when she only had a three-day weekend off work. Besides, it wasn’t like they were close. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen them since her mom had died ten years ago.
Thoughts of her mother rumbled in her mind. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she choked on a sob. God, she missed her mom like hell. And she felt guilty she hadn’t spent more time with her. But Tiffany had been too busy building her career. She’d always thought they’d have plenty of time.
Her mom’s favourite Christmas CD by Elvis filled the empty apartment. Then the AC whooshed on, and a dry chuckle tickled her throat. AC—on Christmas Eve? That and hurricanes were what she got for living in Southern Florida. It was nothing like the white snowy Christmases she used to love in Cincinnati.
She thought about attending midnight mass and hearing the beautiful bell choir, but voted against it as she’d feel even more alone in the crowd of families and loving couples. Instead, she turned on the TV and landed on a station that was having a Christmas marathon, starting with a Jimmy Stewart tear-jerker.
Although she was on a perpetual diet, she felt sorry enough for herself to open the box of iced Christmas cookies a co-worker had given her and pour a glass of eggnog to sip as she watched the show. Curling her feet beneath her on the couch, splayed her Christmas skirt over her knees then dipped her cookies in the drink. She wondered if the world would miss her like they had Jimmy Stewart. She had no husband. No kids. Not even a dog. She wasn’t a humanitarian like Jimmy was in the movie—she sold socks for a living. Not cute, frilly socks. Just plain white socks.
Maybe she should get a dog, she mused. At least, she’d have a warm body to cuddle, and someone who would be eager to see her when she got home from work. She’d always had a dog as a kid, usually a big, lovable husky.
She sighed as reality decked her square between the eyes. She worked and travelled way too much. It wouldn’t be fair to a dog to leave it alone so much.
In a fit of self pity, she downed the rest of her eggnog in one gulp and flicked the TV to another station. She didn’t need any more tear-jerkers tonight. She felt sorry enough for herself as it was.
Again it was a blasted Christmas movie, but at least it was a funny one with Bill Murray getting the snot kicked out of him by a pissed-off angel. Much more in keeping with her style and her mood. She dimmed the lights, stretched out on the couch and laughed despite herself as the miserable wretch got himself Scrooged by the three ghosts of Christmas.
At the stroke of midnight, she sat up long enough to lift another glass of eggnog. “To me. To Christmas,” she murmured ruefully. She couldn’t wait for the holidays to be over so she’d stop feeling so wretched.
* * * *
Dax DiCesare came to Tiffany in the dark of night as he often did, chasing away her demons, kissing her into submission. Giddy to be in his arms, she nuzzled his neck and burrowed against him.
“Um, you’re so warm and so very furry,” she huskily murmured against his chest. She swept her tongue across his tight nipple, fascinated by the whorl of hair encircling it, delighting in his answering shiver.
He cradled her between his legs then insinuated his hand between her thighs. He pushed aside her silky panties and delved a finger inside her pussy. “And you’re so very hot and wet.”
Jolts of electricity made her quake. Yearning for more, she gyrated her hips and said against his lips, “Only for you, lover. Only ever for you.”
Her blood sang for him. Her body broke into a symphony.
“How did I ever let you go?” He gathered her closer, heart to hammering heart. “I was a fool.”
Her heart skipped several beats, and she froze. “Me, too.”
A sly smile curved his lips. “I have a Christmas present for you.”
She tingled all over. It had been so long since a man had given her a gift, in particular, a Christmas gift. Could it be a ring? She held her breath.
He rubbed his swelling cock against her pussy, and his hand cupped her buttock and pushed her closer. “Do you like my gift?”
She moaned. “Um, I love it.” Even if it wasn’t a ring, she couldn’t resist.
Feeling wanton, excited to play with her ‘present’, she circled her fingers around his thick cock and gently pumped it.
“God, I’ve missed you so much. Don’t ever leave me again.”
Blinkin
g back tears, unsure if they were the happy or unhappy variety, she nodded. Pressing her forehead to his, she gazed into his eyes. “Promise.”
He pushed her further into the mattress, his body moulding to hers.
She spread wide her legs and welcomed him inside. As soon as he drove in, she clamped tight her thighs and imprisoned him. She wasn’t about to let him go twice.
She fell off the couch. Rather, it felt more as if she’d been rudely pushed off her couch, yanked out of her dream.
Groggy, out of sorts and sure she’d felt hands on her back, she scrambled to her feet, her hands fisted, ready to defend herself. “Who’s there? What do you want? Take anything you want, but don’t touch me. Just leave.”
A draft of cool air wafted across her face and blew her skirt against her legs. Her hair was blown around her face.
She blew at her mussed hair then pushed it away from her eyes. She wanted to hug herself, but she refused to show how scared she was. “Why are you doing this?”
She saw her cell phone lying on the back of the couch and inched towards it. Just as she grabbed for it, it flew across the room.
Spooked, she grabbed her throat and whirled around. Still, she saw nothing.
Was she going crazy?
She was about to put it down as a crazy dream and go to bed, when a ghostly apparition glimmered to life before her eyes, her knees went weak, and she stumbled. She caught herself against the back of her lounger and steadied herself. Moving behind the chair, she clutched the top.
“What are you? What do you want? Why are you here?”
When the creature turned to face her, she saw it was an odd combination of young and old, male and female. Light shone from the crown of its head. Its robes were white, piped with gold. It wore a gold cap, and gold shoes peeked from beneath the robes. Sad, rheumy eyes gazed, unblinkingly, at her.
“Can’t you speak? Why won’t you talk to me?” The ghost’s silence frustrated her to the point she wanted to pull words from its mouth. Except she was scared to move an inch nearer.
Mist formed around the ghost, shrouding it, but it was translucent so that she could see through it. Then the ghost pointed at her and motioned for her to join it.
Her breath stuck in her lungs, and her muscles froze. After several moments, she poked her finger at her chest and squeaked, “Me? You want me to join you in that? Do you think I’m crazy? I’ve watched enough horror movies to know better.”
She really had, and her adrenaline kicked into high gear. With a burst of strength, she pivoted on her heel and ran towards the closest exit. Suddenly, the ghost was in front of her, barring her path, and she was sucked into the mist.
Chapter Two
Tiffany gasped for air and frantically felt around her body, taking inventory of all her parts when she revived in a dim, chilly room. She had no idea where she was, and she was thoroughly discombobulated.
Squinting, she looked around and found the ghost less than a foot behind her. She let out a startled yelp. Then anger set in, and she glowered at the phantom. “Okay, you, take me home this instant. I don’t like being hijacked. What do you think you are? The Ghost of Christmas?”
The apparition nodded emphatically then pointed deep into the room.
“Yeah. Right. And I’m the Pillsbury Doughboy.” She rolled her eyes.
The ghost floated deeper into the room and pulled her with him. How, she had no clue, but she seemed to be caught in a tractor beam.
At first, the room didn’t look familiar then something tickled her memory. Suddenly, everything flooded back, and she regressed fifteen years.
Off-kilter, her breath ragged, her pulse skittering in her wrist, she inventoried Dax’s apartment, the one she’d thought to share with him one day, the one she’d practically moved into, if not officially.
Still in disbelief, still frightened, she ran towards the two people in the room, doubles of herself and Dax. “Help! I’ve been kidnapped. Call the police.”
But the other people didn’t flinch. They acted as if she wasn’t there.
Frustrated, about to scream, she grabbed Dax’s arm to shake it and make him notice her.
Her fingers went through him. She didn’t feel a thing—no flesh or blood or bones. Nothing.
Frightened out of her mind, she jerked away and went sprawling backward onto her ass. She landed at the Christmas creature’s feet.
She looked up at the spectre and accused, “You’re really the Ghost of Christmas Past?”
The creature nodded.
She still didn’t believe it and pinched herself, digging her nails into her flesh. It stung, and she jerked back. “Ouch!”
The ghost pointed forcefully at the scene unfolding a few feet away.
Compelled, she watched as Dax took her into his arms and kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough. “I don’t know what I’d ever do without you, baby. You’re part of me.”
With a dreamy smile, her other self melted against Dax and looped her arms around his neck. She rubbed her nose against his. “Why do you say that? Aren’t we going to be together forever?”
Tiffany snorted, and her heart threatened to break all over. Knowing what awaited her hapless former self, she moaned. “Get out now while the getting’s good,” she warned under her breath, willing herself to flee.
But her younger self didn’t budge. In fact, her younger self burrowed deeper into her lover’s arms, naïve and setting herself up for heartbreak.
Her gut roiling, she turned away, unable to live through this twice. Her feet itched to run to the far ends of the earth, but they were stuck, as if in a quagmire. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced over her shoulder at the ghost.
The ghost shook its head and pursed its lips. Again, it pointed at the couple across the room.
“Why do I have to watch this? I know what happened. Unless you’ll let me warn myself, why are you torturing me?”
The ghost turned to watch the former couple, ignoring her.
Her hands clenched and unclenched as she turned back to the scene. She was just in time to see herself start a sensual striptease, to remove her shirt and twirl it over her head in rhythm to an irreverent Christmas tune.
Embarrassed, she faced off in front of the ghost. “Please. I don’t want you to see this. I don’t want to see it again.”
The ghost stood solid and aloof. It jutted its chin higher and folded its arms across its chest.
With a sigh, she turned back and saw the frilly green and red holiday shirt as it whirled through the air and snag the bed post. Shortly, her bra followed, revealing her breasts.
Dax’s eyes darkened and gleamed with passion as he watched. The bulge in his slacks strained his zipper, and he undid his snap.
Her other self kicked off her spindly high heels, winging them at her.
With a gasp, she ducked, but the ghost shoe flew through her face. Her heart pounding so hard she feared it would break her sternum, she spun around to look for the shoe. “This is unbelievable.” She turned back to the ghost. “It’s also unnecessary. All this is doing is breaking my heart all over.”
When the ghost didn’t respond, she turned back to the scene, wondering what it was she was supposed to learn and do differently. She already knew how to strip and make love to a man, although it had been so dangerously long she could do with a refresher course. However, she doubted that the Ghost of Christmas Past would single her out for something so simple.
Still at a loss, she watched as sweat trickled down her brow despite the snow clinging to the windows across the room. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be G-rated? Since when are you X-rated?”
Raw at Dax’s nearness, she didn’t know how long she could stand this. He’d been so sexy, and she’d been out of her mind in love with the guy. She wasn’t sure she’d ever truly gotten over him. She didn’t need this.
“Please, don’t do this to me.”
But the couple across the room didn’t go away. Rather, the light glowed brighter, and s
he began to feel herself merge with her other self and lose her present identity.
Her breath came in short bursts as she stepped out of her panties and stood buck naked in front of her lover. Moans ripped from her throat as the tip of her tongue peeked out of her mouth and licked her lips, slowly, sensually, inviting invasion.
She sashayed over to Dax, swinging her naked hips, sliding her hand down her belly to her pussy then pleasuring herself.
Tiffany’s modern day pussy quivered, too. She tried to ignore it, but she grew damp between her legs, and she squirmed.
Her hand itched to release Dax’s cock from its prison, to feel its velvety warmth in her hands. She longed to taste its musky flavour, to drink his salty cum. More than anything, she longed to feel his heat seep into her and his heart beat against hers. She yearned to be one with him body and soul.
Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t meant to be.
When Dax scooped her into his arms, she tossed him a glorious smile, one that gleamed with complete love and trust. Tenderly, he lowered her to the bed then climbed on top, entering her with a reverence that almost made her forget his treachery and believe he really loved her.
Could she have been wrong? Could there have been a good reason for making her fall in love with him when he knew he was married?
Married…
The word stole her breath, broke through her intoxication.
She was furious with him.
She was infuriated at herself.
How the hell could she have become involved with a married man? How could she have been so stupid?
Why couldn’t she erase him from her heart, knowing all this?
She felt like a moron, pining for a man she couldn’t have, a man who belonged to someone else.