Mr. Naughty: A Second Chance Christmas Romance

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Mr. Naughty: A Second Chance Christmas Romance Page 8

by Kara Hart


  “After you just got done ranting about how I need to stay away from Olivia, you’re going to tell me you’re seeing her best friend tonight?”

  This is going to be a train wreck and I’m going to have to deal with cleaning up the whole damn mess.

  “Come on, man. I think you need to relax. You have your thing. I have my thing,” he says.

  “They aren’t exactly things,” I say. “They’re women. You know, human beings.”

  “Don’t make me out to be a terrible person. Regardless of what you think, we talked. She wants to have some fun, and so do I. She ’s over the ex. She’s not looking for anything serious, which is fucking great because, guess what? I’m not either,” he replies smugly.

  “Yeah, and how many people say they’re not looking for something serious, when in actuality, they are? Sounds like you’re setting yourself up for disaster. You’re going to crash and burn, brother,” I say.

  I shake my head. I can barely deal with this guy anymore.

  “Then I guess that makes us disaster bros,” he smiles, waiting for me to laugh. He holds his hand up for a high five when I don’t laugh back.

  “That’s not exactly a title to be proud of,” I say. He simply shrugs.

  “Alright, I’m out of here. I’ll leave you to your date, but if you fuck this up, I’m going to be pissed,” I tell him.

  “You going to knock me out?” he jokes.

  I just give him my glare and he shuts up. “Alright, alright,” he says. “I won’t mess anything up. I’ll play nice.”

  Chapter 16: Cole

  I grab a bottle of wine, before heading out to Olivia’s. I’m not usually this excited, but I’ve had butterflies in my stomach all fucking day.

  When she opens the door, her perfume floods my senses. There she is. The woman of the hour.

  Within seconds, we’re making out and she’s got her arms around my back. Her smooth skin is so close to mine and, damn, I feel alive. It’s been a while.

  “How was your day?” she asks me.

  I smile and walk into the kitchen.

  “It was alright. But there’s something I have to tell you. Don’t kill me,” I say.

  “I’ll try not to. What did you do?” She laughs, hesitantly.

  “It wasn’t me who did it,” I say.

  Shit, why am I even telling her about Eric’s stupid game. I should just wait for her to find out on her own. It’s not my fault, anyway.

  “Eric is kind of taking Sandra out on a date tonight,” I say.

  “No fucking way. How did this even happen? No wonder she wasn’t answering any of my calls. Is he going to treat her nicely? Because her last boyfriend was a total shit-head,” she says.

  “That’s why I’m apologizing now. Eric is kind of… well, he’s had a really hard life. And I don’t think he wants anything serious because of it. He’s under the impression that Sandra doesn’t either,” I say.

  “And why does he think that?” she asks.

  The way that she’s looking at me right now suggests that she thinks I gave him the idea to do this. Dammit.

  “I don’t know. She told him that,” I say.

  “That’s just what women say!” she groans. “Oh God. This is going to be awful, isn’t it?”

  “Probably,” I say. “But I’ll kick his ass if he screws this up for her.”

  “Don’t hurt him,” she says, eyeing my arms and chest.

  I love the way she looks at me. It’s like she’s never seen a man this built before.

  I smile and wrap my arms around her again, enclosing her in my strong grasp.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll leave the rough housing for you to enjoy,” I say.

  I tickle her lightly and she wriggles from my grasp. She damn nearly collapses onto the floor. Her whole face turns red with embarrassment and fury. It’s cute as hell.

  “Do not, Cole!” She yells.

  “I’m sorry, Olive.” I laugh.

  “Not funny,” she growls.

  I hug her again, just to feel her tits against me, one more time.

  “I can’t stop thinking about the other night,” I whisper. “You’re so fucking hot.”

  “I’ve been wet nearly all day,” she admits.

  “At the office, did you think about me? Did you touch yourself?” I ask her.

  She nods and hesitates, looking embarrassed. I put one finger under her chin and lift it up so that she’s looking straight at me.

  “I’m already hard,” I tell her.

  She reaches down in silence. Her soft hand comes into contact with my throbbing cock. I know exactly what I want and it’s not wine. It’s that sweet pussy of hers.

  I want her bending over for me. I want to see her turn that beautiful face toward mine. I want to hear her whispering, “Take me. I’m all yours.”

  She’s wearing a black skirt with a tight, white, button up work shirt. Her tits are practically bursting the buttons off.

  She’s “Ms. Executive” right now and I want every piece of her. My hand reaches up her skirt. She closes her eyes and press her body against the kitchen counter. She grips the marble tightly, unable to let go. She exhales sharply and her face quivers with edging pleasure.

  “I didn’t come over to drink wine,” I tell her. “I came over to watch you cum.”

  “You want to watch me?” she asks.

  Her eyes are still closed. My mouth is hovering over hers. We can practically taste one another.

  When she tries to kiss me, I pull away, only to push my lips closer. She moves forward and, again, I pull away. The whole time, my hand is placed over her wet pussy, and she’s just dying for me.

  unzipping my pants, my cock comes springing out into her open palm. She spits downward and opens her eyes, moving her hand backward and forward. I groan with satisfaction. She’s so good to me.

  “Take off your skirt,” I demand.

  She doesn’t even question it, of course. She wants this as bad as I do. We’ve both been picturing it for a full 24 hours at this point, just waiting for the chance at round two.

  She takes off her skirt, as well as her shirt, and she stands there in her panties, waiting to hear more direction. I love how wet she is right now.

  I take off my own shirt and pants. I grab my hard cock and start stroking, while admiring her beautiful body.

  “Good, kitten,” I smile. “Now, I want you to roll your panties down to your ankles. Slowly.”

  She does as she’s told. She rolls her panties all the way down. When her hands are at her ankles, she turns around and shows her ass and pussy to me.

  I’m practically shaking from my strong urge to just grab her and fuck her. But I don’t. I keep myself at the edge, just stroking my cock. Each time I get close to the edge, I stop myself.

  “Take off your bra too,” I command.

  She picks her self up and does just that. She stands in front of me, a woman of pure beauty and sexuality. She tosses the bra to the side of the room.

  She’s my dream woman. She’s right here. Now what?

  “Masturbate for me,” I say.

  “What?” She chokes and blushes.

  “Cum for me,” I mutter back. “I want to see you cum.”

  I sit back and watch her slowly fall to the ground. She spreads her legs open for me and begins rubbing her clit.

  At first, she’s nervous. It’s not everyday that a guy asks a woman to display herself like this. And the voyeur in me wants to make her feel a little nervous. She’s just going to have to realize that I love a good show.

  When she finally relaxes, goose bumps form all across her body. She begins to shake like she really enjoys it. She’s as wet as she can possibly get.

  I’m so fucking hard that it’s beginning to ache. I want to cum all over that pretty face of hers. I want to give her all of my pleasure, but I want her to be the one to enjoy this first.

  As she builds herself up, her back becomes more erect against the wall. She slides in two fingers, as she
rubs her clit in a circular motion. Her breathing begins to pick up.

  I walk toward her and stand over her, stroking my fat cock. When she’s about to cum, she looks up at Me. Her eyes roll back slightly. She loses her breath and her stomach quivers.

  As soon as all this happens, I know she’s about to cum. When she does, I’m right there to pick up the pieces.

  I grab her leg and slide my cock in. While she’s shaking, she lets out a loud scream of satisfaction. I push myself in deep and begin thrusting hard. I grab her waist and push her close to me. I use her body to push in deeper.

  “I’m cumming,” she whispers.

  “I know, sweetheart.” I smile and kiss her cheek.

  Her body goes limp. Her stomach quivers in a repeated and chaotic fashion. I can’t help but feel completely turned on at this point.

  I’m going to fucking blow. I’m going to cum inside her again.

  When she places her hand around my balls and smiles, I know I’m fucking done for. She caresses me and it feels so fucking good that it actually makes me question whether or not I can come back from this.

  I look at her beautiful face. I look at her tits. I feel her body, up and down. I try to get as much of her in as I can, before I lose all control.

  One touch is never enough. It’s never everything you want. I want the whole thing. I want to experience her over and over again.

  I’ll never be able to get her out of my head. It’s just impossible. I never want to.

  Right as I’m cumming, she grabs my face and kisses me. Her tongue slides against mine with writhing passion.

  My cock pushes up and down, letting everything go. I can’t stop myself and I don’t hold back.

  I give her everything I’ve got. As I’m breathing, her scent sends me straight to heaven and back.

  When I come to my senses, I’m shaking against her. I’m trying to pull away. It’s too much. She feels too good.

  She’s got the most perfect pussy I’ve ever felt and now I’m hooked, as if it’s like heroin or some sort of strong drug. My eyes open wide. I can’t catch my breath. I fall back against the tile floor, breathing in hard.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I moan. “No way.”

  “What?” she asks.

  She smiles and throws her panties onto my face. I take them in my teeth and laugh. She starts cracking up.

  “You are irresistible,” I say. “You’re un-fucking-believable.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she says, grabbing my hand.

  I pick myself up off the ground and kiss her again. God, she really is great. I don’t know what I’ve been doing without her.

  “Now, open that bottle of wine. Let’s have some more fun,” she says.

  Her smile is addicting. Her teeth are sharp and white. Her lips are red, plump, and hot as fuck.

  More fun? Jesus Christ, this woman is going to kill me!

  “Well, alright, Olive. I’ll do my best,” I tell her, laughing slightly.

  I’m glistening with sweat. We’re both naked and loving the freedom that we have with each other. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way.

  Maybe we’re both insane. Maybe we both have lost our minds, for real. All I know is that this feels too good to come back from.

  I open that bottle up and hand it to her to pour. She pushes the wine glasses away.

  “Let’s just drink from the bottle,” she says.

  She takes a swig for herself and hands the bottle back to me. I take a swig and smile, teeth stained red.

  “Come with me,” she says. “And bring that bottle. I don’t have work tomorrow.”

  She leads me to her bathroom, of all places, and turns on the shower. When it gets hot and steamy, she steps in and calls for me.

  I step in right behind her, feeling the hot water, smooth against my skin. She wraps her arms around me and places her head against my chest, letting the water splash all around us, as the steam builds against the walls of the shower.

  “I’m happy,” she says. “Maybe I shouldn’t be. Maybe I should be worried, but right now I’m just happy.”

  She lets go and grabs the bottle of wine, sipping on it slowly. She’s so fucking sexy, how could I not feel the same about her?

  I’m just basking in these moments. From what I’ve learned, things don’t stay too great forever and that worries me a bit. Right now, we’re both happy. I want to keep it that way.

  “I really like you,” I tell her. “I mean, a lot.”

  “I like you too,” she says, handing me the bottle. “Now, drink.”

  “You getting me liquored up?” I laugh.

  “Yes, so you’ll have to stay longer tomorrow and enjoy the breakfast I cook you,” she says.

  She smiles and leans against the wall.

  Damn, so she wants me to stay and she wants to make me breakfast. How the hell did I get so lucky?

  As I drink the bottle down, she takes a small amount of soap and rubs it all around her body. Soon, suds are forming all around her. I’m dying.

  She bends over and I grab her waist, pulling her close to me, while drinking more wine. I set the bottle down and slide my cock inside her. I can’t help but go in for a second time.

  We fuck like crazy. Her hands press against the fogged-up glass and she’s screaming louder than ever. I’m holding her as close as I can, while water splashes onto our bodies.

  She’s so slippery, sexy, and wet, and I’m just dying for her at every second.

  I hold onto her thighs. I trail my fingers up her ass, feeling the tight skin on her body.

  I smack that ass and she moans with pleasure, screaming, “More!”

  I spank her again and again. Her pleasureful cries echo across the bathroom.

  When she cums, I cum with her. It’s like a never ending thing with this woman. We just exist to feel good with each other.

  We dry off and head toward her room. The bottle is only half empty at this point, so we have some work to do. We stay up all night, drinking and talking about our dreams and memories.

  “What do you want out of life?” she asks me.

  “Shit.” I laugh and scratch my head. “That’s a question I’ve always ran away from.”

  “You mean, you don’t think about it? You don’t envision something better for yourself?” she asks, confused.

  “I think I’ve always worried that if I do that, I might always want something better. I worry that it might never end with me,” I admit.

  “A pleasure junkie,” she smiles. “Yeah, me too, I guess. I’m a bit of a hedonist on the inside.”

  “And on the outside, you’re a tough, career-oriented woman. Yeah, I think a lot of people might be like that,” I say.

  “Well, you’re tempting me to live a better life,” she says. “I have no idea how we got here. It seems so crazy to me. But I’m glad we’re here now.”

  “Me too, Olive.” I hold her in my arms and kiss her over and over again.

  “I love it when you call me that,” she purrs.

  “You’re the Olive who fell from the tallest olive tree,” I laugh. I used to tell her that back in the day.

  “Sounds like it hurt falling from that high,” she whispers, almost asleep now.

  “If it hurts, I’ll make it better,” I say. “And I’ll always protect you.”

  “Always?” she whispers.

  “Always.”

  Chapter 17: Olivia

  “Oh, fuck,” I groan. “My head is throbbing.”

  My body feels like total shit, as if a car ran over my back, during the night.

  My stomach feels queasy. I am not feeling today.

  “We need to keep sleeping,” he says, arms around my chest.

  His eyes are glued shut, but I’m fully awake at this point.

  “Get up, sleepyhead,” I groan. “I’m going to make you some breakfast.”

  “You can’t take care of me,” he insists. “You’re the one who’s not feeling good.”

  “L
isten, we’re both feeling like shit and I want to take care of you today. Don’t protest. It’s not going to work,” I tell him, rolling out of bed.

  He moans and pushes his arms out against the mattress. His hair is cutely disheveled and he can barely open his eyes.

  “Fine,” he says, throwing his legs over the edge. “I’ll get up. I guess I am starving.”

  “I’ll make mimosas,” I laugh. “It’ll help the hangover a little bit.”

  “Thank God,” he says.

  I run into the kitchen and quickly whip up some French toast, eggs, and bacon, alongside some delicious mimosas. It’s a real All-American feast this morning in the Olive household.

  Even though I feel like death, I’m still happy and content that I woke up to the smell of his cologne and the strength of his arms around me. Right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m yelling, “Breakfast is ready! Get that big dick in here, right now!”

  “Big dick, huh?” he walks in, proudly sporting his morning erection.

  “Cole, you bastard,” I groan. “You’re getting me wet again.”

  He winks and takes a bite of French toast. “Oh, fuck. If I wasn’t hard before, I am now,” he says.

  I sit down next to him and smile as we eat our breakfast in the nude. We can’t stop staring at each other.

  As he eats, I decide to reach under the table and grab his cock. I tug on it lightly, making sure it stays extra hard.

  “Olive,” he moans, closing his eyes for a moment. “This is too much pleasure for one man.”

  “Good,” I smile. “Keep eating your breakfast.”

  I tug harder and keep a stronger grip around his shaft. His breathing quickens. His legs begin to shake. He bursts right onto the floor, moaning with total exasperation.

  “Fuck,” he says. “Now I’m going to have to go back to sleep.”

  I smile and ignore that last comment. “Hey, do you want to do something fun today?” I ask him.

  “I’m up for anything,” he says. “What did you have in mind, baby?”

  Baby. I’m starting to like it when he calls me that. It’s the little things, after all.

 

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