Page 38 of Santa's Mistletoe Playbook

“You said sex-starved?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Me, too. And real men like curves, Bea. We can’t stop thinking about how soft you’d be wrapped around me, under me, on top of me…”

“You switched from men and women in general to one man and one woman specifically, Curt.”

“I did. Oh.” His head moved as if magnetized, the shining pink of Bea’s lips calling him home. “Must’ve meant it then…”

“You really want to?” Curtis was scrambling out of his shirt, revealing a long, pale torso dotted with a few freckles here and there.

“So much.” Her apron flew into the corner and her leggings rolled down after them. When she straightened up, Curtis was behind her, hands around her waist, coming up to cup her breasts as he bent himself to kiss her neck.

She wanted the lights off—and then she didn’t care, when he started talking.

“I don’t think I’m going to last too long the first time. There are going to be lots and lots of times. I just… I’m already about to burst being so close to you. Finally.”

“Finally? How long have you been wanting me like this?”Wanting. Me.

Head rush.

“Since the beginning of January.”

“That’s almost a whole year!” she squeaked in surprise.

“I’ll make up for lost time. Right now.” His hardness slipped against the swell of her rear as his hand slid into her black panties, gentle fingers working in circles, making her moan.

The best part? He was moaning back. “You feel so soft. You’re everything delicious, Bea. Meringue. Tiramisu. Spun sugar. Hey… How about if we do spun sugar around our cabin? We can make it look like it’s snow.”

“I love it. I love you.” She escaped long enough to lead him to the bed, gasping when she saw his erection throbbing out of his boxers, longer than average and still perfectly thick. She sat first and her hand moved to grasp his cock, only to have him pull back before she could slide him into her mouth.

“You’d better not. I’d come on the spot.”

The idea that she could do that to him was an incredible rush of power. She couldn’t resist bending forward and letting her tongue dart around his tip just once. “Fine. Later, then.”

She was pink and soft and tighter than any woman he’d ever been with. Bea’s slippery walls clung to him and sucked him instantly as soon as he moved between her legs. He wanted to be suave and slow, teasing hours of pleasure from her. And instead, he was a clumsy twenty-three-year-old who could barely put protection on before losing control.

To be fair, Bea was the one demanding he rush ahead, saying she couldn’t wait either. From the wet, slick sound of her as he buried himself inside, he’d say she was telling the truth.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for so long,” he sighed, settling into a rhythm.

Bea’s legs, short and thick (some might even say ‘stubby’), curled over his hips. “What else have you been dreaming of?”

“Covering you in whipped cream.”

“Ooh, naughty.”

“I guess you don’t have any fantasies about me, yet, but?—”

“Oh, yes, I do. And they all involve you moaning ‘yes’ and my name.”

“Beaaa,” he sighed out, half-laughing.

“Good boy.”

When she said ‘good boy’ like that…Oof. New kink unlocked.“I’ll always be good to you.”

“I know. I can tell. My brain finally wised up—and my body is so very happy about it.” Bea pulled him in for a kiss, and then there were no more intelligible words until much later.

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