His Christmas List: – Naughty Stories For Your Stocking
His Christmas List: THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL: Chapter 3

“He did a cavity search?” Avril shrieks, wide eyed. “What the hell??”

“Sshh,” I look around at the people in the café. “Keep your voice down,” I whisper.

Avril leans in across the table, “You’re kidding me, right?”

“I was a total hoe bag,” I whisper. “Big time.”

The rose-colored glasses have come off and in the light of day, my morals are guilt tripping me.

“Bad?”

“Porno bad.”

“Good porno or bad porno?” Her eyes are wide, and she sips her coffee as she hangs off my every word.

“Platinum, top tier.”

“What’s that?” She frowns.

“The fucking best.”

“I knew something was going to happen.” She sips her coffee, “Nothing this dramatic though, obviously. I thought like a date.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t even know what happened, one minute he was all, let me search your house, and then I was bent over the kitchen counter, next minute we were fucking on the couch.”

Avril’s eyes widen, “Jeez, why doesn’t this shit ever happen to me?”

“Because it only happens on Pornhub that’s why.” I hold my temples. “I’m going to hell.”

“Well if he’s the devil….. sign me up too.” Avril holds her coffee up in a cheers symbol.

“I totally should have played hard to get, and the worst part is that I really like him.”

“What’s the problem with that?” She frowns.

“Well, now I can’t marry him, obviously,” I scoff. “Are you completely clueless?”

“Why not?”

“Because you never end up with someone who you meet like this, and I can never tell my kids or anyone for that matter that this is our meeting story.”

“Imagine if you did, though.” She giggles, “Daddy came around in his cop uniform and did a cavity search and then he fucked Mommy before she knew his surname.” She holds her coffee up in another cheers symbol.

I throw my hands over my eyes in horror, “Stop! It sounds so bad.”

“Well,” she then thinks for a moment, “what did he say before he left this morning?”

“He asked me on a date.”

“He asked you out on a date,” she gasps. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“I know, so I need to be hot.”

“I thought you wanted to get back with Rodney?”

“I know. But I had so much fun with Dylan so I’m just going to see what happens.”

Avril smiles broadly, “I like this plan.”

I pull the red dress up and look at my reflection. “Nope.” I put the next dress on and turn and look at my behind, “Yuck.” I tear it off over my head. I tap my chin as I go over the contents of my wardrobe. I want to be sexy but cute with a side of irresistible.

Damn it, nothing here fits the bill.

I’ve been floating on air ever since Dylan left this morning. I get an image of the two of us kissing goodbye at my front door.

How I didn’t want him to leave…. And how I could feel that he didn’t want to go.

I turn and look at my behind in the mirror, fuck it. Total crap.

I tear off the dress.

Well, this is going to be a disaster if I can’t replace something half decent to wear.

Why didn’t I buy something new today?

I flip through my coat hangers with renewed determination.

I have to look perfect.

The car pulls into my driveway right on seven, and I run up the hall pretending that I hadn’t been secretly waiting at the window for him to arrive.

The doorbell rings and with my heart thumping hard in my chest I take one long last look in the mirror. I’m wearing a pink fitted dress, it’s off the shoulders and clings to my curves. I have nude-colored, strappy stilettos on, and my long dark hair is out and full.

He hasn’t seen me dressed up before, I want him to be wowed.

Right…., this is it.

Don’t fuck it up, Zoe.

I open the door and there he stands, 6ft3 of gorgeous man and it’s me who is wowed.

Black jeans that fit perfectly and show his sculptured thick quads, and a light blue shirt that hangs perfectly from his broad shoulders. Tanned muscular forearms that have thick veins coursing down to his perfect hands.

I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight of him.

Wow.

His brown hair is sitting in messy curls and his aftershave is next-level intoxicating.

“Hi.” He smiles, his eyes drop down my body.

“Hi.” I beam.

“You look fucking delicious,” he says as he steps forward and takes me into his arms.

Delicious.

He thinks I’m delicious.

Touch down!

I giggle as he walks me backwards into the house, with his lips locked on mine, his hands are on my behind, and I can feel his erection through his pants. “Screw going out, let’s fuck instead.” He smiles against my lips.

“No.”

He kisses me hungrily before he drops to his knees and begins to pull my dress up.

“Dylan.” I laugh as I step back from him. “We’re acting like grown up humans tonight, remember?”

“I prefer to be an adolescent animal.” He walks forward on his knees to try and grab me again.

“We’re going out on a date.” I grab his hands and pull him up from the floor.

“Ugh, fine.” He grumbles, he takes my hand in his. “You ready?”

“Aha.”

He leads me through the front door and out to his car, it’s a beat-up pale blue pickup truck, and I roll my lips to hide my smile. He couldn’t be more different to Rodney. Rodney is all about appearances, he drives a Porsche and wouldn’t be seen dead in this car. I look around at the dings and scratches, this car has character. I kind of like it.

Dylan opens the door for me and as I slink into the front seat I say, “Such a gentleman.” I smile.

“If you say so.” He slams the door shut and gets into the driver’s side and looks over at me, “So where do you want to go?”

He doesn’t have anything arranged, what?

“Umm…. I don’t mind.”

“I didn’t know what you liked so I made reservations at a few different restaurants,” he says casually as he starts the car.

I frown.

“You get to pick, either Italian, Thai, Vietnamese, à la carte or, good old fashioned country food”.

My heart swells. “I’m happy to eat whatever you want.”

“Oh no you don’t, you pick. I’m not having this on me if you don’t like the food.”

“Trust me Dylan, I like all food.”

He raises an impatient eyebrow.

“Okay then, Italian?”

“Sounds good.” With his eyes on the road, he reaches over and takes my hand and puts it on his muscular thigh, I smile out the window.

This is already the best date of my life.

He booked five restaurants so I could choose.

He’s a thoughtful god.

The restaurant is small and quaint, candles adorn the tables and Italian music is being piped through the speakers.

We both sit quietly as the waiter fills our glasses.

“Thank you,” we both say in unison as he finishes, he walks away leaving us alone.

“So,” he says as his eyes replace mine across the table.

“So….” I beam.

“I have many questions for the beautiful Miss Zoe.”

I smile into my wine glass, “Same.”

“Such as?” he asks.

“What’s your surname?”

He bursts out laughing, “Good opener.”

I laugh too.

“My surname is Andrews.”

“Dylan Andrews.” I smile. “I like that name.”

“I like you,” he fires back without hesitation.

Nerves dance in my stomach, he likes me.

“Do you want to know my surname?” I ask.

“I know your surname.”

“What else do you know about me?”

“I know how to make you moan.” He gives me the best come-fuck-me look of all time.

He’s so naughty.

“Your name is Zoe Armitage, you’re 26. Single, live alone. Grew up in the area and …” He frowns. “Would never have picked you for a lawyer though.”

“You’ve done your research, impressive.” I smile, “You must be a cop or something.”

He gives me a sexy wink.

I twist my wine glass as my mind temporarily wanders.

I never picked you as a lawyer.

Sensing my sudden mood decline, he asks, “What is it?”

“Oh nothing.” I shrug embarrassed. “Just…… It’s funny you say that about the lawyer thing, I’m in the middle of a mid-life crisis as we speak.”

Why did I tell him that? I haven’t told a soul.

“How so?”

“I don’t know, I studied for years to do this, I work for the top law firm in town, and now,” I shrug, “I hate it, I hate everything about it. I’m miserable and drag myself to work every single day. I’ve never cried so much in my life.”

He listens intently.

“But I think that’s normal, right? When anyone starts a dream job that there’s a settling in period. It’s never what you think it’s going to be,” I add.

“How long have you been doing it?” he asks.

“Two years.”

He nods and thinks for a moment, “What made you pick law?”

“I don’t know, I got the marks at school and the writing was on the wall for a long time.”

“Who’s writings?”

“My parents, my teachers, my boyfriend at the time. Everyone.”

“Everyone but you?” His eyes search mine.

I sip my wine, feeling uncomfortable. “It’s a good job.”

“It is,” he agrees. “But what did you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. If you could have been anything in the world, what would you have been?”

I shrug.

“Don’t shrug, be honest with yourself. What did you want to do?”

“I wanted to be a nurse.”

He frowns as he listens intently, “So, what stopped you?”

“Everyone told me it was a shit job with terrible conditions.”

He sits back, annoyed by my answer. “Looking after sick people is the highest form of social service. Probably the most rewarding job of all. Whoever doesn’t see that is a fucking idiot.”

“The pay is terrible.”

“Money means jack shit, Zoe,” he snaps. “Do you think I’m a cop for money?”

I stare at him, confused. I’ve never met anyone quite like him. “Why did you pick that job?” I ask.

“Because if I could help just one person feel safe then it would be worth it.”

Oh…..

“Did you feel safe when you were a child?” I ask.

He concentrates on folding a napkin on the table as he avoids my gaze.

Did he grow up in an abusive home?

“Did you…..”

“Can we change the subject?” he cuts me off.

My heart constricts as I watch him. I take his hand over the table, “Well, you make me feel safe.”

He leans onto his hand and gives me that I’m-going-to-fuck-you-hard look, again, “I’m the last person you should feel safe with.”

I smile, “Probably.”

He doesn’t feel safe.

I lift his hand and kiss his fingertips; his eyes rise to meet mine. “We can keep each other safe.” He turns his hand and cups my face.

What the hell is going on here?

This is something, something big. I’m not imagining it.

“So, are you going to work the rest of your life in a job that you hate?” He changes the subject.

My shoulders slump, the thought is depressing, “I’ll get over it.”

“Maybe you should start being honest with yourself.”

Why are we talking about this? “I’m ready to order,” I announce.

“Don’t change the subject, Zoe. If you’re unhappy, do something about it.”

“Look, it’s not that easy,” I snap, annoyed. “You know nothing about the situation.”

He holds his two hands up in a surrender symbol.

Deep down I know he’s right. It’s my turn to change the subject now. “Tell me about your past girlfriends.”

He chuckles, “Nice deflection.”

“You like that?” I smile.

“Not really.” He smiles back, “What do you want to know?”

“Girlfriends? Player? Cockshot sender? Where do you sit in the dating pool?”

“Cockshot sender?” He laughs. “There’s a cockshot sender demographic?”

“Yes.” I laugh too.

“Girlfriends, plural.” He puts his fingers up to do quotation marks. “Childhood sweetheart, we broke up a few years ago and…..” he pauses, “Nothing serious since.”

“Player?” I smile.

“I wouldn’t say player, more like currently actively playing.”

“Currently…. as in right now?” I gasp as I fake heartbreak. “You shouldn’t tell me that, I thought we were falling in love!”

“No.” He laughs too, “Not right now. We’re on a date, I mean……” He shrugs embarrassed. ‘That came out wrong, you know what I mean.”

I smile goofily over at him.

“Why did you break up?” I ask.

“Because I loved her for the wrong reasons.”

I think on his answer for a moment, “She was your safe place?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation.

“You loved her…. but you weren’t in love with her?”

He smirks, “I didn’t want to fuck her through the wall, if that’s what you mean.”

He gives me that look again, sex god personified.

“What wall do you have in mind?” I breathe.

“The wall behind your bed looks pretty damn good.”

I feel myself flutter down below.

Honestly.

“I’ve got a bed that needs breaking too.”

“Don’t I know it.”

The air crackles between us.

With his eyes fixed on mine he puts his hand up to the waiter.

“Yes, sir,” the waiter asks as he arrives at our table.

“We are in a bit of a hurry; can we order please?”

We burst through my front door, and he tears my dress over my head as he walks me in backwards. “Get on your knees.”

I fall to my knees on the floor and struggle to get the zipper of his jeans down, I can’t do it quick enough.

He takes his cock out and holds it for me and with his dark eyes holding mine, I take him in my mouth.

His eyes flutter closed as he tenderly brushes the hair back from my forehead. “Good girl,” he moans softly.

“Fuck my mouth,” I whisper as I suck him, he tastes so good.

His knees nearly give out, and he grabs the back of my head with both hands. “Don’t tempt the dragon, baby, not even I can stop him.”