His Christmas List: – Naughty Stories For Your Stocking
His Christmas List: YOU WISH: Chapter 3

I drag my hand down my face. Fuck my life, he may have been onto something. I probably am going to look average.

Get it together, girl.

I look through my small makeup bag. There isn’t enough makeup in all the world that could pull off this miracle, and I’m for certain this tiny selection isn’t going to cut it. I don’t even have a straightener, and my hair is frizzing to oblivion.

This is just great.

Aaron

I sit on the bed and scroll through my phone as I wait, my stomach rumbling.

I’m fucking starving. Hurry up, woman.

I click on the agenda for tomorrow and read through the list of proceedings.

9 a.m. – Guest speaker Aaron Hammond

Fuck.

I glance at my watch. If this weather keeps up, I won’t even be able to get to Aspen, let alone present to two thousand people. Damn it, I really wanted guest speaker at this conference on my résumé. It was a big deal just to be invited, let alone be the headline and opening panel.

Ugh, what are the chances?

The bathroom door opens and I glance up to see Emma walk out.

Fuck. I feel a tingle down below as my every cell stands to attention.

She’s wearing a black fitted dress that clings to her curves, and her long honey hair is out and full. But it’s the beautiful face that arrests me. She gives me a shy smile, and I feel it all the way to the tip of my cock.

In the flash of an instant, my mind is changed… this is a fucking date, and damn it, I’m closing the deal.

Hard.

Emma

“I see you upped your average to meet me.” Aaron smirks.

“No.” I widen my eyes. “This was the only dress I had.”

“Who were you aiming to knock out with that dress… other than me?” He raises a sexy eyebrow.

He likes it.

“For your information, I wasn’t planning on knocking anyone out.”

Seduce them, yes…

“Well.” He stands. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

I grab my coat and go to put it on.

“Such a shame to cover up that masterpiece.” He smirks as he helps me pull it up over my shoulders..

“Will you shut up.” I roll my eyes. “You flirt.”

Don’t shut up. Keep flirting.

We make our way downstairs and walk across the road to a restaurant. The ground is slippery, and he holds his arm out for me to link through mine. I do, not because I’m afraid of slipping but because I want the chance to touch him.

This isn’t a date, I remind myself.

The problem is my body is already excited for it, sensing what could be. I need to get with the program and remember the mission. He’s a player, and we are done with players… remember, Emma?

The problem with me is that I have a penchant for fuckboys.

It’s a toxic trait, I know, but something about them not falling madly in love with me seems to have an appeal. The problem is that after wasting the last five years on them, I realized that it’s not going to get me to where I eventually want to be, which is in a stable relationship where I am valued and loved, happy and secure.

No, I am not doing this again. Get it out of your head right fucking now.

We push through the doors and walk into the restaurant. It’s cozy and quaint, with an open fire in a big stone fireplace on the far wall.

“Table for two, please?” Aaron asks.

“Yes, just this way.” The waitress walks us to a table by the big bay window at the front. There are candles on every table, and it has a wildly romantic vibe.

“Do you want to face the window or face the restaurant?” Aaron asks me.

“Umm.” I look out to see the snow falling. “Maybe I’ll face the window if that’s okay.”

“Sure.” He pulls out my chair and then, instead of sitting opposite me, he sits down on the chair beside me. “We can look out the window together.”

“Okay.” I smirk.

Classic date move… this way, we can touch.

I’m onto him.

Pretty lights adorn the streets and fairy lights twinkle up above. On the street corner across the road is a giant Christmas Tree with a giant bright star at the top, “This is so beautiful.” I smile.

“Here are the menus, I’ll give you a moment and come back to take your orders. Can I get you any drinks to start?”

“Umm.” I open the drinks menu. “What’s good?” I ask her.

“We are famous for our mulled wine.”

“Mulled wine, what’s that?”

“It’s a red wine warmed with a mixture of spices, very European. It doesn’t sound nice, but it’s absolutely delicious.”

“Oh.” I shut my drinks menu. “Sounds good. I’ll have a glass of that to try, please.”

“Make that two,” Aaron replies.

She leaves us alone and we read through the menus. “What are you going to have?” I ask him.

“Hmm.” He keeps reading. “Steak looks good. Not sure it goes with hot wine, though.”

“Does anything go with hot wine, though?” I giggle.

“Not sure.” He winces.

“Are we going to regret this?”

“Probably.”

The waitress appears with a giant jug of a red concoction—it kind of looks like a sangría or something—and she fills our glasses and puts the jug on the table. We wait until she walks away.

“You go first,” he tells me as he holds up his glass to inspect it. “Is that orange in there?”

“You go first,” I reply as I look over it.

“Together.” He raises an eyebrow, and we hold our glasses up and take a tentative sip together.

It’s warm and caramelly and…

“Yum.” I smile.

“Pleasantly surprised,” he agrees as he rolls his lips, tasting it. “I should warn you now, before we drink too much, that we have to leave at the crack of dawn in the morning. I have to be at my conference in Aspen at eight thirty at the latest.”

“Okay.” I nod as I take another sip. “It really is delicious. What happens if we get blacked out drunk on this stuff?”

“Your ankles are going to be around my ears all night.” He gives me the best “come fuck me” look of all time.

Oh…

“You wish,” I laugh.

“Am I, though?” He gives me a playful wink and refills my glass.

There is something about this guy.

“So…” I sip my wine. “You know all my dirty laundry, but I know nothing of yours.”

“I wash my clothes regularly,” he says matter-of-factly. “No dirty laundry to tell of.”

“You know what I mean.” I scoff. “What’s your story?”

“What’s my story? Hmm, where do I start?” He narrows his eyes as if trying to concoct something up. “Once upon a time…”

“Your family?” I prompt him.

“Ah, my family. Well, I’m one of seven.”

“Seven,” I gasp.

“Yep.”

“You have seven children in your family?”

“Four brothers and two sisters.” He smiles proudly. “Thirteen, soon to be fourteen, nephews and nieces.”

“God.” I take a huge gulp of my hot wine. Hmm, this stuff is good.

“Are you close?”

“Very close, although I hardly see them.”

My face falls. “Why do you hardly see them?”

“They live in dreamy Sonora and I live in shitty LA. I left the small country town to go to college and I never ended up going back. I definitely will one day.”

“When will that be?”

“When I get my career solidified.”

“How old are you?” I frown.

“Twenty-nine.”

“So let me get this straight, you have been away from home for what… twelve years?”

“Yep.”

“And are living in a place you hate and missing out on being with your family for a stupid job.”

“Basically,” he mutters dryly.

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I first thought.” I roll my eyes.

“Thanks a lot,” he scoffs. “Tell me what you really think.”

“If I were lucky enough to have a family, I would give up everything to be near them. Life doesn’t wait for you, Aaron, and tomorrows are never promised. If you want to move home, you should move home now.”

“Yeah, well, the dating pool is very shallow at home; it’s more like a puddle.”

I sip my drink as I listen intently.

“It’s not like…” He shrugs. “Vale, for instance.”

“You’ve dated in Vale before?” I tease.

“Just going off tonight’s standards.”

“Tonight’s not a date.”

“Fuck off, it’s totally a date.”

“It is not,” I laugh.

I like this game.

“I disagree.”

“Well, then we have to agree to disagree on that.”

“How isn’t this a date?”

“If this were a date, you would have your hand on my leg.”

“You mean…” he slides his hand up my thigh, “like this?”

“Watch yourself.”

“Watching you is more fun.” He squeezes my thigh and drops his hand. “What do you do for work?” he asks.

“I’m a coder.”

“What’s that?”

“I make programs for computers.”

“Really? I never met a coder before.”

“You have now.”

“The only thing I know about coders is that they have great tits.”

I choke on my drink. “What?” I splutter.

“I’m not even joking, have you seen your chest?”

“Every day.”

“Lucky bitch.” He holds his glass up to meet mine. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

I smile and hold my glass up to his.

“To hot wine, great tits, and ankles around ears.”

I burst out laughing. “You idiot.”

Hours have turned into minutes, minutes have turned into seconds, and if I could bottle this feeling, I would.

For the first time in forever, I feel alive.

Seen.

Excited and enthralled.

Aaron Hammond is funny and witty, intelligent, and captivating. We have spent the last four hours talking and laughing and having deep conversations, but if you ask me what we’ve been talking about, I couldn’t actually tell you.

The conversation has flowed easier than it ever has on a first date, maybe even any date… Even though this isn’t technically a date, it’s going down as my best one yet.

One for the record books.

“Emma.” He rolls his lips to hide his smile as his eyes hold mine. “I have a confession.”

“Please don’t ruin the night.” I smile into my wineglass.

“How could anything ruin this night?” He laughs.

“All right.” I take a sip. “Hit me.”

“I ….” He wobbles his head around as if trying to work out the wording. “I saw you at check-in at the airport.”

I frown. “Not what I thought you were going to say, but okay.”

“And I thought you were gorgeous, and I tracked you down in the bar at the airport and I purposely sat beside you.”

I smirk.

“And you were a rude, obnoxious pig.”

“What?” I burst out laughing,

“And to be honest, I kind of liked it.” He shrugs playfully.

“You sicko.”

“And now, through a series of very fortunate events, I replace myself here, alone with you.” He taps his glass against mine and then takes a sip. “And I really, really like it.”

My eyes hold his as I do an internal risk assessment. He’s a player, I already know that… but he’s so fun. Am I really going to walk away from this spark?

One night is better than never.

What’s it going to be?

“I have a confession as well,” I reply.

He picks up my hand in his. “Yes?”

“I saw you at the security gates and I was”—I smirk—“completely checking you out.”

“You minx.” He laughs as he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my fingertips.

Goose bumps scatter up my arms at his touch.

“But then I heard the girls behind me talking about you and saying you were a giant sleazebag.”

“What girls?” he huffs. “I didn’t know anyone at the airport.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shrug. “But that’s why I was so rude to you.”

“So it wasn’t the nerves at all?” He puts his hands over his heart as he fakes injury. “The first lie you told me. How could you? I’m wounded Emma.”

I laugh and he laughs too, and then he cups my face in his hand as we stare at each other.

“Did you sit next to me so you could touch me?” I ask.

“Of course I did.”

“People are looking at us,” I whisper.

“I don’t give a fuck. Shut up and kiss me.” His lips take mine, softly at first and then deeper. A little suction, a hint of a tongue.

A whole lot of fires started.

Our kiss deepens, and as my eyes close in pleasure, I’m lost.

The door to our room slams open, and with our lips locked, he walks me backwards as he peels my coat from my shoulders and lifts my dress off over my head. I stand before him in my underwear, and his hungry eyes drop down my body.

“Incredible,” he whispers.

Without warning, he picks me up and throws me onto the bed. I laugh as I bounce, and then I see the darkness in his eyes and I’m instantly silenced.

The intensity in them calls to me on a deeper level than what this is.

His lips take mine as he undoes my bra and my breasts fall free. His hands cup them and my eyes close in pleasure.

This is already the best night of my life.

We kiss for a moment, slow and tender, as his hands explore every inch of my breasts. He puts his hand on my chest and pushes me back onto the mattress, and I pant in anticipation as he guides me back to lie down on the pillow.

He rearranges me and spreads my legs and then looks down at my glistening sex.

I can hardly breathe as he drinks me in.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs. Without taking his eyes off me, he stands at the end of the bed and undresses slowly. His body is hard everywhere, and this

is lust, pure, unfiltered lust. He bends and runs his whiskers up the inside of my thigh, and as he gets to my center, he spreads me apart with his fingers and runs his tongue through my creamy arousal.

Oh, god.

He lifts my legs over his shoulders in then he is on me. His tongue takes no prisoners, licking and sucking… driving me insane with his skill.

The man knows what to do with that tongue, this is off the hook.

He slides one then two, then three fingers into my sex. I start to quiver as I bear down on him hard.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

With each stroke of his fingers, it gets deeper and harder, until I can’t take it anymore and I’m writhing beneath him. “I need you,” I whimper.

“In a minute.”

“Now,” I demand.

He chuckles. “Impatient.” He slides over the top of me and drives his thick cock deep into my body.

Fuck… He’s big.

I’m stretched to the hilt.

My body contracts instantly around him, rippling and sucking him in, and I replace myself squealing headfirst into an orgasm. “I can’t. . .” I pant. “I’m going to⁠—”

“Hold it,” he growls. He pumps me hard, and the bed hits the wall. Damn it, this man is a fucking machine.

I glance over to the mirror on the wardrobe doors and catch sight of us, and just like he promised, my ankles are around his ears. His body is deep in mine, and damn it, if this isn’t the best sex I’ve ever had.

His knees are spread wide, and as he holds himself up, I can see every muscle in his tanned torso flex as he moves. His pumps get deeper, harder, and I don’t know how long I can take it.

Faster, faster, more intense, and all I can do is hang on to his shoulders. We’re both wet with perspiration, and without warning, he flips us and I’m on top.

“Kiss me,” he breathes.

I bend and kiss him, his body still deep inside mine, and the act has an unexpected intimacy.

Not just any kiss, this is a kiss that could save the world.

Deep, raw, and real.

Oh…

“Fuck me,” he breathes. Grabbing my hip bones in his hands, he begins to guide me over his cock.

“So good,” I moan as I see stars.

Our bodies are glistening in the light, and I smile as realization sets in that we didn’t even turn the lights off.

Who even am I?

With three more thrusts, I cry out, and he holds himself deep and moans into my mouth as he comes hard.

We pant as we struggle for air, and with my body still deeply around his, we kiss like we have all the time in the world.

Never have I had sex like this before in my life.

Carnal, otherworldly.

I’m totally fucking ruined.