Naughty Can Be Nice
Naughty Can Be Nice
Series : Book
Heat Rating 3
Released 2010-12-03
Word Count 8518
Keywords santa claus, handcuffs, m/f, cynthia selwyn, holidays, christmas, bdsm, erotika romance, erotika for women, erotic romance, erotic, m/f, romance, lust, lovers, erotica, contemporary
ISBN 978-1-926930-12-1
Disclaimer/Notice/Warning
Price :$1.99
Santa hears all your wishes and makes them come true. Especially when they’re naughty—because naughty can be nice.
Legal guardian Brenna O’Brien didn’t expect to become a single mom, especially of seven-year-old twins with troubles. What she needs is a good dose of sexual pleasure to swipe all her emotional burdens away.
Kris Kringle, Jr. doesn’t want to fill in for his dad. But when he meets a lovely lady at a Christmas party, he changes his mind; he wouldn’t mind filling her . . .stocking.
One wish is all it takes for the sexy Santa she met to appear in her living room, wearing nothing but his boots, his red velvet hat and a silver bow. Because at Christmas, all heartfelt wishes can come true.
One minute, Kris was standing at the foot of his father’s bed, trying to explain why he hadn’t listened to the Christmas wishes of the children at the hospital party - because how could he describe the incident without talking about his embarrassing hard-on? The next minute, he found himself inexplicably scrunched inside a chimney, sucking in soot and splaying like a Slinky.
Worse, he was bare-assed naked, except for his hat. And his boots.
"What the fu ..." He managed to cough before slipping down the sides of the chimney wall, and landed with a clang and a crash on the floor of the thankfully fire-and-wood-free grate. He leapt to his feet, swiping his hat from his head to brush at his be-ashed behind.
He was in someone’s living room.
He was in Brenna’s living room. She lay on the couch, her fingers grasping one pink-tipped tit while her other hand hid under the waistband of her pajama bottoms; he could see the outline of her knuckles at the juncture of her legs.
She stared at him with round eyes, her mouth rounded in a perfect "o," as if she were just about to slide her lips over the tip of his dick. Quickly, he put his hat over his naked cock. But that only made things worse, since the bells sewn to the brim rang with silvery peals with each pulse, bob and wiggle of his swelling erection.
Brenna’s gaze slid slowly from his face, down his chest and stomach, the intensity of her scrutiny as tangible as her fingers would be. When she dropped her attention to his chapeau-clad stiffy, it leapt in the hat as if seeking her out. She smiled, stood and moved to him. "I wished you were here," she murmured, dropping to her knees, "and here you are. Merry Christmas to me." She pulled his hand and the red-velvet-and-ermined hat away.
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