by Eve Langlais
Hot breaths merged as mouths parted to allow their tongues to engage in a sinuous dance. Her arms twined around his neck, and his wrapped around her torso, pinning them tight together, tight enough that she could feel the steady pulsation of his heart, the hardness of his body, and the evidence of his erection. There was no doubting his desire, their desire. Their passion…
She raked her fingers through his hair, scratching and tugging, her breath a hot pant, which he inhaled. He hoisted her so she leaned against the wall, his strength a part of him, effortless and so sexy. With his lower body, he pinned hers, rubbing and holding her in place, leaving his hands free to roam. And roam they did while his mouth plundered hers, drawing an aching desire forth.
Touch me, she wanted to moan, but she was past coherent speech, caught in the sensations of the moment.
But he didn’t need telling. His fingers found the edge of her shirt and slid under, the rough tips a gentle abrasion on her skin. Feathering touches tickled a path over her ribcage to her fettered breasts. He didn’t let the cotton cup deter him.
Nothing screamed sexy like a plain white athletic bra. It didn’t seem to bother him. His thumb stroked over the straining peak, the barrier of fabric a sensual layer that only made the moment he shoved it upward, baring her breast, all the more exciting.
She sucked in a breath as he brushed his calloused finger over her nub. Again and again, he rubbed then pinched, which made her gasp. How could the tease of her nipple bring such erotic pleasure to her sex? Who cared? A shudder went through her as he once again squeezed.
And then he stopped. No. If she had the breath, she would have protested out loud.
He shifted her body, pushing her higher on the wall, which meant his lips moved out of reach of her own, but that was only because he apparently had another location he needed to explore.
“Kyle.” His name whispered out of her as his hot mouth latched on to her nipple. He sucked and twirled his agile tongue around the tip. Each tug, each suck, sent a jab of heat to her sex.
First one breast then the other. He took his time with each, exploring and teasing them as all the blood in her body boiled, all her nerve endings coiled, and her panties grew wetter and wetter.
His lips finally left both of her peaks, not that it stopped their throbbing. His mouth traced a path down her belly until it reached the button on her pants.
She didn’t see how he did it, but somehow he managed to get them undone, parted, and he kissed the top of her mound through her panties–more industrial cotton, which didn’t stop his sensual seduction.
Or would it?
When he lowered her, setting her on the floor, she almost cried out, but his lips caught hers. And then she didn’t mind because it seemed he had a reason to set her free, namely so he could shimmy her out of her pants and tear her panties from her.
One rip. One sexy rip of fabric to expose her to him.
Utterly sexy.
Bared to his touch, he wasted no time and cupped her. Cupped her moist sex with his hand while he sucked at her tongue.
She almost came.
“I’m going to taste you, Crystal,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’m going to lick you until you come.”
What sane woman wouldn’t react to those words?
Hell, she practically came. She most certainly shivered and shuddered. She cried out and clamped down on her peaking pleasure when he dropped to his knees and nuzzled her. Her sex clenched tight as his hands parted her thighs, and she felt the warm brush of his breath against her throbbing pussy.
At his first lick, she almost collapsed, but his hands caught her, held her, made her submit to the decadent torture of his tongue. Sweet, pleasurable, erotic torture.
It didn’t take long. The wet and warm licks and sucks of his mouth teased already throbbing flesh. When he flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit, she was a goner.
Only by biting her lip did she manage to keep herself from crying out. But oh how she longed to shout his name. To scream it to the world.
Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her as he refused to relent in his sensual enjoyment of her sex.
Finally, she could take no more, and she managed to gasp, “Enough.”
With a final kiss on her tender parts, he stood and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her, and she hugged him back, not a word spoken, just basking in an intimate moment that allowed her to gather her wits.
Now that he’d pleasured her, time to return the gift.
But when she went to slide her hands down his body to his waist, he caught them and brought them to his lips, placing a kiss on each before releasing them.
“I should go now.”
It took a moment to process the meaning of his words. “You’re leaving?” She couldn’t help the incredulity in her tone, especially since she could see the evidence of his need bulging against the crotch of his jeans.
“I told you I was different, and I’m going to prove it to you.”
“By not having sex with me?” She couldn’t help the puzzlement.
“Exactly. I know things are moving fast between us, which is probably freaking you out. I know it’s freaking me out a little. But in a good way,” he hastened to reassure. “I’m not leaving because I don’t want you because, trust me, I do.”
“Says the guy about to walk out the door.” She was still processing the odd turn of events.
“Leaving to go home to a cold shower and lonely bed.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Really, you can stay, here with me. She held back from begging aloud. What was wrong with her? He was trying to act a gentleman, and here she was, practically forcing him to stay.
“Much as it pains me, I have to go. You need time to adjust to what’s happening between us. To understand I’m not going to mistreat you and Gigi. That I’m a man you can count on. So, despite the fact I want to stay in the worst possible way, I’m not. Not until I think I’ve earned your trust.”
Honor? That still existed? “You’re nuts.”
“Borderline certifiable according to the army shrinks.” He grinned. “But, unlike my buddy Boris, I don’t have a thing for guns, so they let me go. However, while I might not decorate my home in weapons, I do warn you I am a techno freak. Getting together with me means putting up with wired sound to every room in the place. An alarm system that will know if a fly farts. And losing me a few hours a week to gaming with my buddies online.”
“You speak as if you’re planning to stick around.”
A sensual smile stretched his lips. “You mean you hadn’t figured that part out yet?”
Hope blossomed, a warm spot in her chest, which she’d not felt in a long while. “I was afraid to think that far ahead,” she admitted. “I’ve been disappointed a lot in the past.”
“And that’s going to change. From now on, things will be different. For you and Gigi. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m even thinking this way. A few days ago, before I met you, all I could think of was, well, myself,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “But now, I’ll be damned if the idea of a we, as in family, doesn’t have more appeal.”
“Maybe you got infected with the Christmas spirit. It might wear off.”
“More like I got smacked with it, and no, baby, it ain’t wearing off. I’ve made you my mission.”
“Mission?” she said with a laugh, oddly enough not perturbed by the fact that she was having a conversation, wearing only a shirt that barely fell low enough to cover her hips, with a man who’d just made her come. What a sight they must present.
“Yes, mission. I’ll warn you right now that, as part of my disorder or, as I like to call it, adorable personality trait, I tend to think of things in terms of missions.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, and that means what?”
“Well for example, I’m working on mission #746: Be the best fucking Rudolph ever for one little girl.”
How ridiculously disturbing, yet cute. “I like that missio
n, and do you have any missions concerning me?” Coy? Yes, but she couldn’t help but ask, and not just because of her curious inner kitty.
“Plenty where you’re concerned, baby. And I am a man who likes to accomplish them.”
He waggled his brows, and she laughed. “I have to admit I’m surprised you’re only at #745.”
“That’s because every New Year I wipe my mission slate clean. I like to start the year fresh. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go attend to mission #747.”
“Which is?”
“Take a cold shower and ease my blue balls before I totally cave to temptation.”
“What if I wanted you to stay?”
He groaned and closed his eyes as he chanted, “Must not fail.”
She laughed. “You’re a strange man, Kyle.”
“Strange, yet lovable?” he said, peering at her hopefully with one eye.
“Yes.”
Apparently he liked her simple answer because he kissed her then, his arms wound tight enough to squeeze the breath from her. But she liked it, liked him, and hugged him back just as tight.
Then, just as she thought things might get interesting, he fled, still talking to her as he backed away, “Dammit, baby, you make a soldier forget himself. I’ll be here to grab you both in the morning, and we’re going to breakfast.”
“Night, Rudolph!” she shouted as he hit the bottom step and the door to outside.
She laughed at his grumbled, “I still can’t believe I’m doing that.”
As she shut the door to her apartment, a stupid grin on her face, she couldn’t help but hope this would be the best Christmas ever.
Chapter Seven
Worst. Christmas. Ever.
Blue–balled, squeaky clean, and twitchy from too much coffee, Kyle wondered at his sanity. Why did I ever volunteer to do this? Can’t someone find me a bomb to deactivate? Or demand I run cable for all the televisions in their house?
It didn’t help that his panicked urge to flee battled with an even stronger determination to stay, and all because of a certain cougar who sought to soothe his irritation.
“You look very handsome,” Crystal purred in his ear as she stroked the fur between his antlers. “And don’t worry. I’m sure the sparkles will probably fall off when you shift.”
He gave her a dirty look, which given he wore a flashing red nose, did not intimidate her in the least.
“Poor, baby,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll have to make it up to you. Maybe after the parade you could come over for dinner.”
He decided he wouldn’t gore her with his tines.
“We can watch Rise of the Guardians.”
A decent Christmas flick with lots of action. Don’t judge him because he liked animated movies. Judge him because he knew the words to ‘Let It Go’ from Frozen.
“Then, once Gigi goes to bed, maybe you could…”
Yes. Yes.
“Help me wrap her presents. I suck when it comes to taping.”
Big disappointment. His ears drooped, and she laughed.
“Ah, don’t look so sad. I know it seems like a lot of work, but I’ll make it worth your while. Promise,” she said in a husky whisper.
With those teasing words, she sashayed away. If he could have wolf whistled, he would have. As it was, he did leer, in a caribou slobbery way. Then he growled and pawed the ground like a bull when he noticed he wasn’t the only male appreciative of the view.
Mine. And he couldn’t wait for the world–and most especially the males–to know it. Then, if they still dared leer, he’d show them why you never screwed with the guy who could scramble the password on their phone and not only change the outgoing voicemail message but also give it a really filthy, and loud, ringtone. One of his favorite pranks and best memories.
You could hear the moose bellow from a mile away.
Best part? Boris was inept when it came to technology and had to ask him nicely to help remove the offending tune.
Kyle marked the names and faces of the men who dared to admire what was his. Then mentally shook himself.
What am I doing?
Jealousy, never before experienced but recognizable. Just another sign Crystal was different than the other women he’d been with. From now on, it will be only one woman. While he’d certainly never expected to desire a domestic existence, ever since meeting Crystal and Gigi, it was all he could think of. All he wanted.
What I need.
It didn’t take a mission to realize his life had been missing something since he’d returned from the war. He’d tried to fill that gaping hole with drinking, pranks, work, hell, he’d even started the occasional fight to see if hitting things would help.
Nothing had until now.
Crystal and Gigi, and the life he could so easily picture with them, fit perfectly in the void. They offered a chance at a happy life, a full life. A new existence he’d get to enjoy as soon as he got through the next hellish hour. An hour of torture he would surely never live down.
Luckily, no one in the staging area made fun of him in his ridiculous Rudolph getup. Lucky because the parade was about to start and he didn’t have time to wash the blood from his antlers if an idiot dared to mock him.
The parade starting, though, didn’t mean he moved because he was, of course, leading the Santa sleigh, which meant he got to stand impatiently, in his harness, a herd of cow–like reindeer behind him and Earl the walrus practicing his ho–ho–ho’s.
The floats moved out, one by one, lit with lights, garishly bright. The people of town, dressed in holiday regalia, moved out with them as Christmas music blared from speakers. The goodwill and cheer should have made him roll his eyes. Instead, he found it infectious. Next thing he knew, his hoof was tapping out the tune to ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’.
Argh. Shoot me now. No. Don’t. He couldn’t fail in his mission for Gigi. She expected to see Rudolph, and by damn, she would, even if it killed him.
Goodbye, cruel world.
Time to accomplish Mission #746: Be the best fucking Rudolph ever for one little girl.
He held his head high. Antlers a glitter, his nose a brilliant flashing red. To the refrain of ‘Rudolph’, out he pranced, leading Santa’s sleigh.
Only to balk at the door as panic suddenly overwhelmed him.
Everyone will see me.
They’ll laugh.
They’ll point.
They’ll mock.
They’ll…love me?
Caught just inside the door didn’t mean he couldn’t see some expectant faces, both young and old, as well as in between. And, yes, they bore smiles, but no smirks. He saw happy smiles that bespoke of a humor that was joyous, not taunting.
I survived the pit when I was in the army. I can survive this.
Out he stepped.
Jingle.
Step.
Jangle.
He began a steady walk, which caused the nickel–plated bells on his harness–no silver here–to ring.
After a few paces, he didn’t pay attention anymore to his steps as he heard the delighted squeals and exclamations from the little ones present.
“Rudolph is leading the sleigh!”
“Look how big he is compared to the other reindeer.”
“He’s beautiful.”
“Look at the size of his rack.”
“Isn’t he handsome?” said a familiar voice. Crystal’s green eyes shone with thanks and affection.
As for Gigi, she didn’t say a word, just stared at him with her bright gaze, her hands clasped in delight and her lips stretched in the biggest, happiest smile.
His chest swelled. Oh yeah, mission accomplished.
But she wasn’t the only child wanting his attention. Hell, if he was going to do it, might as well do it right. He swung his glance to the other side of the road and let them glory in the best goddamned Rudolph they’d ever seen.
He pranced past Crystal and Gigi, following the marked parade route.
Th
ere was something crazily addictive, and, yes, fulfilling about being a part of the parade. Of bringing joy to others. Not that he’d ever admit it.
If his buddies asked how he liked playing Rudolph, he’d be sure to scratch his balls, say it was okay, and stress the fact that he’d done it for the children, not because it turned out he got a kick out of playing the part of a red–nosed freak.
Liking it, though, didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious to finish. As soon as they’d trotted the length of Main Street, back to the hangar they headed, Earl having disembarked out of sight of little faces, lest they realize Santa wasn’t whom he seemed.
Forget following the others to the staging area. Kyle wanted out of this crazy get–up and away from his crew–who seemed to think they could just poop whenever they wanted to. He thanked the fact he stayed ahead of the messes they left behind.
At least they obeyed. He led the mightily impressed reindeer at his back to the stable. They might be simple–minded, but they recognized greatness when they saw it. They respected his rack.
Crystal, minus one little girl, was there to meet him, a wide smile on her face. “You were awesome!”
Of course he was. He tossed his majestic head and, yes, struck a pose. If only Boris, who thought his set of antlers was so great, could have seen it. Kyle’s might not yet have the span that ornery moose possessed, but his was sharper and more deadly.
He was also more handsome.
At least he hoped Crystal thought so as she stroked the fur behind his ears.
“Thank you,” she said as she unhooked him from the traces.
Unable to reply, he snorted.
“Seriously. Gigi couldn’t stop exclaiming about how good you looked. She barely even noticed Santa.” Crystal laughed. “I think Kyle, the knight, might have competition.”
His caribou seemed to find this mightily amusing. Kyle less so. Wait until she sees what I got her for Christmas. She’ll forget all about Rudolph then, pal.
Jealous of himself? Ironic, but he could live with it.
Speaking of whom, where is my little sweetie? He made a questioning noise and swung his head side to side.