Chapter 2
Cameron
One minute I am at a charity event in my terminally ill father’s place having to put on a poker face the whole time while dealing with my asshole brother, and, the next, I am locked on a hotel rooftop groping a sexy, curvy woman in a Mrs. Clause costume.
Let me clarify– she is wearing a Mrs. Clause suit.
I am in a Santa suit.
Because why wouldn’t I be?
Right now, I don’t care how erotically festive it is, though.
Between the bourbon and her skin against mine, I am hot and ready to go… or whatever it is Chapel Roan says.
The Santa jacket that I had draped over her bare shoulders is now laying on the ground as my hands graze over her sides, her stomach, her hips.
I’m looking for skin to skin contact but the little, red, velvet costume she has on is inconveniently a one piece situation with a flouncy skirt attached.
And it’s making it very difficult.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she breathes into my mouth between kisses as her hands run over my bare torso.
“Probably not,” I admit, still trying to find a way around her outfit.
“I never do things like this,” she says.
“Of course not. Nobody does.” I smirk as my hands come in contact with her ass. She’s wearing panties but they’re very, very cheeky.
Goddamn it’s refreshing to be with a woman who actually has the body of a real woman and isn’t afraid to wear something so sexy.
“No I mean,” she kisses me again, “I really,” another kiss, “Never…”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I found a way around the velvet maze. And it would seem…you are very turned on right now.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks, pulling back just enough to look up at me.
The heat of her breath hangs in the cold air between our mouths and it’s wild how chilly this December has been.
But between her harp nipples pressed against my chest and the only source of heat being, well, us, I can’t say that I hate it.
I reach under her and run my fingers along her hot, wet, pussy. “Yeah…” I say with a half smirk.
“Fuck me,” she lets out and I’m not sure if it’s an expression of speech or if she means it but I’m here for it.
“You want that?” I ask, my voice low and gravelly.
“Yes,” she nods. “Like I said. I never do this. I plan events and I go to them and I watch everyone else have a good time, peacocking around with their drinks, batting their eyes at each other and fake laughing and…what’s in it for me?”
“A paycheck?” I joke and she snorts.
“Not a great one. So fuck it, Santa. And fuck me.”
I don’t need any more of an invitation than that. I use my fingers to part the lace of her panties to the side and I find her clit, teasing it with the tip of my finger.
“Oh…my god…” she lets out, hanging onto my biceps for dear life.
“Goddamn, you are so wet for me.”
“Just…don’t stop,” she begs and that sets free a beast inside me.
One that hasn’t been out of the cage in a long, long time.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say as I continue to flick, finding every sensitive centimeter of her, teasing it and pampering it, until she grows wetter, leans into me harder, whimpers louder.
Thank God for the horrendous Christmas cover band inside or I might have to tell her to be quiet. Not that I want that. I love a vocal woman and, if I had to guess, this girl, whatever her name is, is very vocal.
If only I could get her to say my name.
“You’re so hard,” she pants and I know she can feel my rock hard cock against her. It’s currently tucked into the belt of my Santa pants, begging to be set free. To be inside her. To make her scream.
“You like that?” I ask.
“I do…”
“It’s because of you…” I whisper gruffly before thrusting my finger up inside her. She almost cries out but buries her face in me, her teeth biting into my shoulder.
Fuck…
If she keeps going like this, I’m not going to be able to hold back at all. My fingers slide in and out of her with ease. She’s tight, hot, soft and delicious and I want her to come all over my hand. But more than that, I want her to come on my dick.
And speaking of my dick…
She’s found something else to hold onto. As I drive my fingers deeper and deeper inside her, she slips a hand inside my pants and takes hold of me.
“Fuck,” I let out as she wraps her hand around me. As she starts to stroke me, up and down, slowly then more aggressively, I can feel the heat rushing through me like a river broken through a dam.
But that’s not how I want this to end.
If we are going to do it, I want to do it all the way.
I may never see this girl again and I’ll be damned if we only do this half assed.
I lower us to the ground, me sitting back against the wall and her on my lap, straddling me.
“Do you want it?” I ask and she eagerly nods.
With that, I grab her panties by the waistline and rip them down the middle making her gasp and making me feral.
Jesus fucking Christ she is soaked.
I free my cock from my pants and press on her thigh to lower her on top of me. But she doesn’t go slow. This little minx is so hungry for some granite hard dick she drives herself to the base and both of us cry out.
“Goddamn, baby girl. You really want it,” I growl.
“I told you to fuck me,” she says.
So I was right, it wasn’t just a figure of speech.
And I don’t need to hear it twice.
While her thighs grind on top of me, I roll my hips to drive myself deeper. Her warm, velvety pussy wraps itself around me, hanging on with every thrust, pulling me harder and faster towards the edge. Towards the release that I so fucking desperately need right now.
That abyss that will help me forget who I am, why I’m here, even my own name.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpers as the rhythm of our hips picks up another notch.
“Yes. Come for me. Come all over me. That’s a good girl,” I say, running my hands through her dark wavy hair.
The only light we have right now is from the soft glow of the tiny Christmas lights around us and I am doing my damndest to memorize her eyes, the curvature of her nose, her full, pouty lips.
If only I could really see her. If only I knew who she really was. If only–
“Oh fuck!” She screams out and I groan as the orgasm rips through both of us. I feel myself unloading inside her, filling her with all the pent up desire and frustration and want. Make that need. Because fuck me, did I need this.
Suddenly, the door flies open on the other side of the tree and I clasp my hand over her mouth.
“Hey bro,” my brother Josh’s slur shatters the crisp, icy air and my heart drops clear to my ballsack.
Mrs. Clause stands up and fixes her skirt.
Meanwhile, I scramble to shove myself back into my Santa pants.
The woman looks at me before rushing back inside.
“Yo…what the?” Josh says and I step out from behind the tree too.
“Wait,” I call out. “What’s your name?”
But she’s gone.
It takes a moment for me to get my bearings but when I do, I realize I am standing there, shirtless, Santa coat in my hand, in front of my younger brother who is just smirking at me with his arms crossed.
“What the hell was that?” he asks cockily.
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap, yanking the jacket back on and stepping through the door that he is still holding with his foot.
All I want to do is go after her.
Find out who she is.
But as I scan the crowded room of loud, drunken people, Mrs. Clause is nowhere in sight.