Elf Against the Wall: A Holiday Romantic Comedy (The Wynter Brothers Book 2)
Elf Against the Wall: Chapter 33

“Who died?”

“From your mouth to God’s typewriter, please, oh please, let Shirley keel over dead as a doornail but not in the punch bowl,” Granny Doyle prayed.

“It’s not that kind of a viewing party.” I shoved Anderson.

He leaned in to kiss the back of my neck. There was still some bruising on his face.

“Is it the kind where your grandmother watches as all these dolls eat our souls?” Anderson remarked as we walked into Grandma Shirley’s house.

“That’s how you know there’s something not right about her. She has all these creepy baby dolls,” Granny Doyle whispered to him as she carted the tray of snacks. “The woman peaked when she was pregnant, and it’s been downhill ever since. Always trying to relive her glory days and control her children. Not me,” Granny Doyle declared loudly. “My best days are ahead of me.”

Grandma Shirley was in the living room. “Evie, good, you brought your brute with you. I need the TV set up. I bought a new one. The FedEx delivery boy didn’t put it together, said it wasn’t allowed.”

Granny Doyle used her hand to mock Shirley as she complained.

“Honestly, in my day, men were helpful. You asked them to do something, and they’d do it. You know, my husband never made me pump my own gas.”

“Yeah, but he did make you responsible for your own orgasms,” Granny Doyle retorted.

“Do not say that word in this house!”

“Orgasm, orgasm, orgasm!” Granny Doyle shouted as Grandma Shirley fled the room.

Snowball pranced next to Anderson as he flipped open a switchblade to unbox the TV.

He frowned down at the dog. “Why is she glowing?”

Snowball’s white fur was extra white—like fresh snow on a sunny morning.

“I had to dip her in OxiClean to get the stains out of her fur. You know, from the big fight.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I’m not going out with you anymore.”

I danced around him. “But we won!”

He grabbed me around the waist, pulled me to him, and growled against my mouth, “You’d have been killed if I wasn’t there.”

“I could have held my own. Besides, your hot friend Aaron was the one who really saved the day.”

“Stay the hell away from Aaron.” He released me with the warning.

“Aww, but I was going to ask you for his number, you know, since you’re not boyfriend material and all.” Laughing, I went into the kitchen to prep the rest of the food for the viewing party.

Grandma Shirley had a huge house, bigger than my parents’, and lived all alone. She liked to relive her glory days, as she called it, hence hosting the viewing party for the triplets’ Brooke Taylor appearance.

It was also why she insisted on serving individual cream-cheese-and-strawberry-Jell-O salads molded into the shape of a star.

“Did you sneak out and do the nasty with him last night? You know, give him a reward for the fight?” Sawyer joked as she and Ian came into the kitchen.

“Shh! Grandma Shirley will hear you. And no.”

“Then why is he in your grandmother’s house, putting together her TV?” Sawyer rolled up her sleeves and started stirring the strawberry Jell-O with the softened cream cheese.

“Evie’s giving Anderson a blue-balls Christmas.”

There was a string of curses from the living room. Snowball barked.

“I don’t need sex to get him to like me, because I don’t need him to like me. I am responsible for my own emotional happiness.” I handed Ian the cream cannoli filling I’d made last night to try to keep myself from running back to Anderson’s. Instead, I’d listened to a self-help podcast and made five hundred cannoli shells.

“I need that matchmaking service you were telling me about,” I said abruptly as Ian and Sawyer were arguing over whether mini chocolate chips or shaved chocolate was better on the cannoli.

“Wait. You’re seriously giving up on Anderson?” Sawyer asked.

“No, I need you to parade him around next Christmas,” Ian begged. “I live for St. Henry’s annoyance.”

“He’s not the one. I need to get serious about replaceing a man,” I said firmly.

“I already told you last night, you’re never going to replace anyone to erase me from you.”

I jumped, sending the molds I was setting out scattering. “Don’t sneak up on people.”

Anderson leaned in and kissed me. “Stop lying to yourself. You’ll never get over me. You can’t help it. I ruined you for other men.” He grabbed my ass, briefly squeezing it while Sawyer and Ian gasped.

“I need the Wi-Fi password to finish setting up the TV, Gingersnap.”

“I have it on my phone.” I followed him back into the living room, where Grandma Shirley and Granny Doyle were fighting over the remote while Snowball strutted around, barking.

“I am the hostess!” Grandma Shirley was yelling. “And this is my TV!”

“You don’t know what you’re doing. You think electric typewriters are too newfangled. I’ve got a secret OnlyFans account, and I’m all over TikTok.”

“Gran, just give Anderson the remote.”

Still sniping at each other, my grandmothers left the room.

Anderson quickly finished setting up the new smart TV. The biggest I’d ever seen, it took up practically one wall of the living room. He turned it on to the channel that was running reruns of Brooke Taylor’s talk show.

I reached down and picked up a chair to start moving the furniture for a better viewing experience.

“I know you’re not still trying to convince me that you could have won that fight.”

“I had an ace up my sleeve,” I told him as he reached over to pluck the chair from me with one hand then grabbed its twin with the other.

“Unless you had a machine gun under your skirt, which I doubt because it was so tight I could practically see your cunt, you weren’t making it out of there.”

“I would have just flashed them.” I pointed at where I wanted the chair to go. “And that would have stopped them cold.”

“You cannot be trusted in public.”

“Or private,” I added, removing the vases and other knickknacks from one of the long tables that would be used to hold food.

His arms circled me from behind. “Oh, I know you can’t be trusted in private.” His hands came up under my skirt, sliding under my panties.

“Do you want these table cloths on the—oh damn!” Sawyer said. “You really are trying to get on Grandma Shirley’s naughty list.”

“We’re not doing anything.” I slapped at Anderson.

He just smirked. “If I wanted it, you’d star in a Christmas porno right here on your grandmother’s living room floor.”

“Might as well go for it. We all know Grandma Shirley has cut you out of the will,” Ian joked, coming in with a box of mothball-smelling table decorations.

Anderson scowled slightly and opened a window as Ian helped me clear the rest of the tables.

“Is this an annual occurrence?” Anderson asked, finishing the furniture rearranging.

“Usually, it’s just a movie night, Miracle on 34th Street. Mandatory holiday fun.”

“Is there drinking?”

“Not officially.”

“Sounds festive.” He picked up one of the boxes I’d filled with all the travel knickknacks, stacked it with two more, and easily picked them up.

I grabbed another. “We can put these upstairs.” I led the way up the wide, dark-stained wood staircase.

Anderson whistled long and low as we walked into my dad’s room.

“Did your father have a twin who died or something? Why did your grandmother build a shrine?”

Nothing had changed in my dad’s childhood bedroom since he’d moved out for college in the early eighties.

“My grandmother does not like change.” I set the box on the desk, which held an Atari. “Also, I think she’s secretly hoping he’ll divorce my mom and move back home.”

“And I thought my family was fucked up.” He set the boxes down with a thump on the desk then grabbed the back of his gray T-shirt, pulling it over his head, and cast it onto the back of the desk chair.

“I hope you don’t think I came all the way over here with you and put up with your Christmas-decorating bullshit just because I like you.” His nose brushed mine.

“I hope you don’t think I actually invited you because I wanted you to fuck me.”

He nipped my bottom lip. “You do want me to fuck you, don’t you, Gingersnap?” He gave me a quick, hard kiss. “You were begging for my cock last night. You would have let me tie you up to the standpipe and leave you there till your hands were numb, your thighs wet. I could fuck your pussy wherever I felt like it. You’re a little slut for my cum.”

“I hope your cock is as big as your ego, or I’m going to be pretty disappointed.”

His hands were on my skirt, pulling at the zipper, tugging the skirt down until it pooled on the floor.

I slipped off my flats to stand barefoot in front of him.

He kissed me hungrily, his fingers hooked into the string of the thong I wore.

I whimpered as he pulled it, the fabric sliding in my wet slit.

“You do want me in your pussy,” he whispered against my mouth. “You wouldn’t have worn this if you weren’t hoping I’d see.”

I pulled off my knitted sweater crop top. He reached behind me and pressed hot kisses along my neck and collarbone as he unhooked my bra, letting my tits hang free.

He mouthed them, sucking and teasing as his hands were rough and unyielding over my body, kneading my ass, insistent between my legs.

He pushed me backward. My calves hit the bed, then I sank onto the mattress, legs spread, pussy aching.

Nuzzling the fabric, he slid the panties off, then he grabbed my hips, pulling me forward to the edge of the bed.

“Spread them wide. That’s what I want to see.” His gray eyes were dark slits. Large hands slid up my thighs, up, up, forcing my legs apart.

My pussy was dripping all over the blue bedspread.

His thumbs dipped into my pussy, spreading my pussy lips to reveal the dark-pink flesh.

My head tipped back, and I leaned on my arms. I was practically gushing thinking about how good he would feel. “Yeah, I want that huge cock in me. Put it in me, bad boy. I want you to fuck me raw.”

He didn’t unzip his pants. Instead, he leaned in, kissed my navel, and slid his tongue down, down…

I kicked my legs. “Whoa, don’t you think that’s a little, uh…”

His head rose. “What? Don’t tell me you, the girl who was about to flash a room full of dangerous gangsters, who shows up in the middle of the night at the office of the man who almost murdered her brother, and who slept with her cousin’s boyfriend, has hang-ups about getting her pussy eaten.”

“I-I just—” I stammered.

“Just what?”

“I mean, guys don’t really do that.”

“‘Guys’ who? What straight American male doesn’t want to eat pussy, especially one as tight as yours?”

“None of the guys I’ve been with have. You know, it’s a mutual thing. I don’t really want a man that close.”

He made a disgusted noise.

“I just think it’s weird!” I protested.

He ignored me. His tongue flicked out, and I practically came right there.

“I think I’d just rather have normal sex.” My voice sounded like I’d been huffing helium.

His tongue darted out again, giving me another long lick.

“Kris Kringle on a freakin’ shingle.”

Then his full mouth was on my pussy. My hips rolled, and I gasped in shock when his tongue curled on my clit.

My hips ached. My pussy wanted nothing more than to come on his face.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna to make me come.”

His tongue trailed another long lick on my pussy. It was wrong and good and was like nothing I’d ever felt before.

“You’re gonna make me come just like this. Freaking—”

“Where, Gingersnap?”

“I want to come on your face—fuck, Anderson.”

Then he went down on me for real. His mouth felt ten thousand times better than any cock I’d ever had. My head lolled back, and my elbows trembled as I drowned in him while he licked me, his tongue sweeping down my pussy to lap at my opening then back up to suck my clit.

His head tipped up.

“Why are you stopping?” I moaned.

“Let me hear you. I want to hear how good it is to have your pussy eaten.” He nuzzled my breast, sucking on one nipple, tongue swirling around it. “I know you’re a greedy little slut. Let me hear it.”

I let out a long loud moan as he sank down onto my pussy again. His teeth scraped my clit.

“I want to come on your face!” I cried out. “I want to gush all over your mouth, then I want you to bend me over and bury your cock in me.”

His tongue still on my clit, he slid two fingers into my opening, curling them as his tongue made long, slow licks along my slit.

My arms gave out, and I half collapsed onto the pillows.

He added another finger while he lapped at my pussy, drawing snowflake patterns on my throbbing cunt, my juices smearing all over his face.

There was motion outside the partially shut door.

“Make me come like this. I want to come all over you,” I whimpered as his fingers pumped in me.

“You sick little—” The door opened to a furious Braeden.

“Shit!” I tried to sit up, tried to pull Anderson off me.

Anderson looked up. He made eye contact with Braeden.

“He just wants to watch,” Anderson drawled. “He’s never actually seen a woman get her pussy eaten before. Certainly not by him.”

“Wait, um—”

I tried to reach for something to cover myself with, but then I couldn’t think because Anderson dipped his head back to my cunt, licking me into a frenzy.

“You’re fucking disgusting, Evie!” Braeden raged.

“Yeah, you are, Evie,” Anderson’s deep voice purred. “You’re my goddam little porn star.”

I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped. Couldn’t miss the twitch of anger in Braeden’s face.

“Your ex misses your tits.”

His tongue trailed down to where I longed to have his cock.

“Too bad they’re mine now.”

My nailed scraped his scalp as his tongue curled on my clit.

“Tell Braeden how much you like me in your pussy.”

Braeden’s nostrils were flared. I recognized the lust on his face.

“She’s putting on a nice little show for you.”

I gasped back arching as Anderson slid two fingers in my pussy.

“God Anderson you’re such a piece of shit.” I whimpered.

Braden made a noise of disgust.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me,” Anderson ordered, voice slightly muffled between my legs.

“Henry! Come get your fucking sister!” Footsteps raced down the stairs.

His tongue was on my clit now, working it.

My fingers grabbed at his hair, holding him to me as my hips ground against his fingers then surged up, needing to feel him.

I sounded like a porn star as his fingers pumped into me, finger fucking me as he worked my clit, his mouth all over my pussy.

I touched my tits, pinching my nipples, giving in to the sensation of his mouth on my cunt licking me into a frenzy, taking me higher and higher.

My body tightened, then I was coming suddenly, crying out his name as Anderson milked the orgasm with his fingers and tongue.

He leaned in to kiss me, making me taste myself on him.

Footsteps were racing up the stairs.

“You taste so fucking good, and if we weren’t about to face the firing squad, I’d go down on you again and see how many times I could get you to come.” He squeezed my ass.

I grabbed my skirt and top and threw them on, not bothering with the underwear, tugging my sweater in place just as the door burst open.

“They were having sex right there. You need to get rid of her, Melissa,” Braeden complained as my father looked at my rumpled clothes and the wet spot on the bedspread.

I kicked my bra and panties under the bed.

Anderson was unapologetic, wiping at his face like a cat cleaning his whiskers of cream. “You missed the big finale,” he drawled to Braeden. “You should have stayed and watched. I bet you’ve never seen Evie come before.”

“Of course I—”

Anderson’s eyes lit up with dark glee.

“O-Of course I haven’t.” Braeden stammered. “Evie’s an exhibitionist. She’s sex obsessed. She’s doing this to ruin Christmas.”

“Evie’s been here all afternoon!” Granny Doyle hollered, holding a barking, snarling Snowball in front of her like a flamethrower. “Decorating for someone else’s party. Braeden’s a peeping Tom.”

“You see?” Sawyer insisted. “We told you all last Christmas they were together. Braeden is the one obsessed with her.”

Anderson’s gaze was flicking back and forth between my family members and Braeden.

I held my breath. Was this it? Was it all about to be over?

“Why else would he be so bent out of shape by Evie getting her jolly holiday on if he wasn’t jealous that Anderson was fucking his ex?” Ian argued.

“Don’t you dare spread lies about my fiancé!” Felicity grabbed Braeden’s hand.

“If I’d offered,” Anderson said, “if I’d flipped her over and told him to take what he wanted, he’d have dropped his boxers and fucked her.” His deathly gray eyes bored into Braeden.

His hand at my waist slid up to cup my still-bare breast under the cropped sweater. Anderson pressed a little kiss to my forehead. “Check his pants. I bet he’s hard after watching Evie’s little porn display.”

“We will do no such thing,” Grandma Shirley said.

Granny Doyle rolled up her sleeve and reached out to grab Braeden’s crotch.

My ex cursed, and Grandma Shirley almost fainted.

“I think it’s a little bit hard, but I can’t tell. He’s so small.”

Ian and Sawyer doubled over laughing.

“You sure you want to go to bat for a man who doesn’t eat pussy?” Anderson asked Felicity.

“Think long and hard on that,” Granny Doyle said sagely, petting a still-growling Snowball.

“With that weak jaw, not sure he could actually go down on a woman.” Sawyer sniffed.

“This is so juvenile,” my mother snapped. “Clean yourself up at once, Evie. Stop instigating orgies in your grandmother’s house.”

“Probably the most excitement this poor old house has ever seen.” Granny Doyle cackled.

I hesitated.

“Evie,” My mother warned me.

My underwear and bra were still in the room.

I saw Braeden’s eyes flick to the bit of fabric sticking out from under the bed.

“What are you waiting for?” My mother turned on Anderson.

“I was actually going to fuck your daughter, ma’am.”