All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,54

to go upward, crawling up over my right shoulder. Her ass came even with my face, and it took everything I had in me not to reach forward and pat it with both hands.

“Oh, boy.” She squealed as she started to slide down the length of my back, head first.

She giggled when my shorts started to go down the length of my ass, and I had to do some fancy maneuvering to catch them and not touch her and get disqualified.

It was when she was crawling up between my legs, her face even with my dick, that I realized my mistake.

I should’ve covered my dick or something. I should’ve tried to think of things that weren’t her.

I mean, she was sliding all up and down the length of my body. She was wrapped around me doing acrobatics. She was pressing her face to the skin of my back.

She was…

Now she was latching on to my dick and freezing.

She stayed that way for a very long, very throbbing fifteen seconds.

Then she let go of it and started to fall.

Only my thighs clenched and held her to me.

“Get up here,” I urged.

Was my voice more hoarse than normal?

Because it sure the fuck sounded like it to me.

I mean, the damn woman had just grabbed on to my cock and shown me how good it felt to have her wrapped around me, even through two layers of fabric.

Even for just fifteen seconds.

I’d gotten more out of that fifteen seconds with her hand wrapped around me than I’d gotten in the last six months.

“They cheated!” someone yelled.

I wasn’t sure if they were talking about us or not—I mean it was kind of hard to tell if I was helping her seeing as my thighs were so large, and there wasn’t really all that much room for her to scoot between them due to the width I had my legs spread apart to accommodate her jiggling weight—but I ignored the comment.

“Come on!” I urged her faster.

She started to move again, but very much aware of my still hard cock that was right in her path.

She made sure not to touch it with her hand, but dragging it all along her face, then her breasts, followed shortly by her lower belly and then the saddle of her hips? Yep, she definitely did that.

When she finally came to a stop, neither of us noticed when we were announced the winners.

Neither of us noticed that we were under the mistletoe, either.

At least, not until Sophia yelled, “Hey, you have to kiss her! It’s the rules! Mistletoe is mistletoe, man!”

So I kissed her.

On the bright side, I am not addicted to cocaine.

-Coffee Cup

Nola

“Oh, my God.” My sister couldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up!” I hissed. “I can’t help it!”

She was wheezing so hard that she was crying and having a hard time talking.

“I just…” She wiped her eyes. “You grabbed his candy cane?”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Just shut up!” I repeated.

“And then, after he kisses you, you get called out for an emergency C-section.” She shook her head. “Then, to make matters worse, despite ordering way too much shit that you didn’t need—the kids thank you for their presents, by the way—you don’t see him again?”

I frowned hard.

“I seriously can’t keep buying anything. I already maxed out my credit card. And I don’t get paid for another week,” I grumbled. “Good news is, this new job is working out great.”

My sister sighed. “You could always go back to the CrossFit gym. Sign up. Hopefully see him again.”

I felt my face flush. “I, ah, actually did that. I signed up to start with the New Year.”

My sister started laughing again. “I can’t believe you did that. You’re practically allergic to exercise. Do you even own any other workout gear other than what you wore to the Christmas thing?”

I shook my head. “Actually, no. That’s why I signed up to start next year. That way I can go get some with my next paycheck.”

She was about to say something more, but my phone started to vibrate in my hand.

I switched over to the texts and grimaced. “I gotta go. One of my patients is in the ER.”

“Merry Christmas, sister,” she called just before I hung up. “Love you!”

“Love you, too!” I pressed the red ‘end call’ button and started practically sprinting toward the stairs.

By the time I arrived in the ER, I was out of breath, my pulse was through the roof, and my stomach was gnawing itself, thanks to my lunch being