All He Wants for Christmas

Sydney Williams jumped when she felt the buzz of her cell phone, followed by the “Christmastime is Here” ringtone. She had just put her daughter, Brynn, down after hours of loud wailing and hoped the loud ringing didn’t wake her. Teething. Who knew little bitty teeth would bring her to her knees. Between the whining and the drool everywhere, she wondered if teething was a special type of torture for parents.

Patting her bed in search of the phone, she finally located it beneath the plush bear she’d used to put on a little show for her irritated darling.

“Hello,” she answered with a yawn.

“Don’t tell me you fell asleep on me.” Morgan’s soft, husky voice immediately soothed her frayed nerves. “I thought we were supposed to have a little date.”

Sydney couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. It amazed her that the sound of his voice still made her feel safe, secure, and treasured, warming her from the top of her head to the tips of her painted toes. Morgan Smith would be her husband in less than two weeks and she could hardly wait to marry him and make their forever official.

“I’m sorry, babe.” She really had tried to stay up for their call, but their daughter had zapped any energy she’d had. After their earlier conversation, she’d been giddy with excitement for this phone call.

Sydney eyed the gift on her bedside table, given by her best friend, Cali. She smiled at the memory. When she’d opened the box and saw the contraption, she’d practically dropped it on the floor. Cali explained that it would help with the lonely nights away from Morgan. Her BFF had admitted that she’d named hers so that it would feel more “personal.”

Picking up the flesh-colored thing, she considered that it never really measured up to the real thing, so she’d named it Morgan-Point-Five. She snickered to herself as she set it next to her on the bed.

“Baby,” Morgan called, his voice pulling her out of her thoughts. “You still there?”

Her fiancé had been gone for three weeks for work and she was practically crawling out of her skin with need for him. Their “little dates” were code for the hottest, steamiest phone sex she could have ever imagined. Maybe it was the fact that she was horny? Nah, it was more likely the fact that Morgan knew how to put it down, in and out of the bedroom. Who knew she’d be so turned on by all those dirty words he spoke so fluently?

“I missed you, babe,” she whispered.

“You did, huh?” He chuckled. The low hum of his laughter shot through her body.

Anticipation warmed her insides and the familiar ache settled into her stomach. “I can’t wait to hear what you have for me tonight,” she purred, dragging her fingers over her stomach and down to the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

“I think you’re going to like what I have for you,” he murmured.

“I know I am,” she agreed. “Don’t tease me, baby. I’m ready.”

“Have you started decorating yet?”

Sydney sighed. Usually around this time, she would be excited about the possibility of Christmas. It was her favorite time of the year after all. But she hadn’t even pulled the decorations out of the basement. There were no manger scenes, no garland, no lights. It hadn’t felt right without Morgan.

“No,” she answered. “I’m just not feeling it right now.”

“That’s different, not like you at all.”

“It’s Brynn’s first Christmas.” She picked at a fingernail. “I can wait until you get here, so we can do it together.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Morgan. Let’s talk about us.”

“How’s my baby?” he asked.

Groaning, she imagined the smirk on his face. He was playing with her, and she loved it. Still, even though she knew he was referring to their little girl, she couldn’t resist blurting out, “Your baby is horny.”

Sydney had never been so forward in the past. She’d always been shy in the bedroom, but Morgan had quickly squelched her tendency to censor herself. In fact, he demanded that she take what she want from him, because he “damn sure wanted to give her whatever she needed.”

“I think she has about fifty years before I’ll even think of her feeling that way about a man,” he mumbled. “Well, probably never.”

Syd laughed, stretched, and burrowed back into her pillow. “She’s finally asleep,” she told him. “But she snatched a bit of my sanity every single time she screamed. Nothing seemed to work.” It took a few hours, lots of patience, a dose of Tylenol, and the miracle Orajel, but Brynn had finally given in and Sydney had promptly fallen out herself. “She misses you, too.”

Sydney thought of the earlier phone call she’d had with Morgan. Dada had spent five minutes talking to Brynn as if she could talk back. Fatherhood definitely agreed with him, and Brynn was smitten with her father. So was Brynn’s mother.

“But you already talked to her earlier in the day,” Syd said, trying to steer the conversation back to the matter at her hand. She slipped her fingers beneath the band of her underwear. “As much as I love Brynn and love being her mother, don’t try to change the subject. I want to hear all about what you have for me.”

“You’ll have to wait,” he teased.

“Why?” she whined, slapping her free hand on the mattress and kicking her legs in a pseudo tantrum. “Oooh, you get on my nerves. Stop playing with my emotions.”

Morgan barked out a laugh. “Wow, babe. Okay, let me tell you a story.”

Sydney perked up. The last story Morgan had told her resulted in a toe-curling orgasm, with Morgan-Point-Five coming through with the assist. She couldn’t wait to hear it. “I’m ready,” she murmured, gripping the phone tightly.

“There once was a woman who had no patience.”

“Morgan!” His laughter was louder now, and her mood turned sour. Frowning, she shouted, “I’m hanging up!”

“Okay, okay,” he said. She could tell he was trying hard not to laugh. “You ready?”

“Yes,” she growled.

“You’re so spoiled,” he told her. “Okay…here’s the story. You. Me. Ten minutes. Be ready. Or should I say, be naked.”

“You better—” On the verge of demanding he come correct with the story, his words finally registered. “You…Wait, what? Morgan, what are you telling me?”

“I’m trying to tell you that I’ll be there in ten minutes and you should probably be ready to get fucked.”

She gasped, then let out a tiny squeal. If she’d been standing, she would have probably done a little dance. “You’re so going to get it when you get here. You know I hate surprises. But I’ll be ready.”

“I’ll be there,” he said. “And, Sydney?”

Sydney swooned at his low tone. “Yes,” she whispered.

“I hope you don’t have anything planned for the morning, because I plan to have you preoccupied for hours. Love you.”

Before she could respond, she heard the click that signaled he’d hung up. She rubbed her hand over her hair. Shit. Brynn had spit up on her hair. As her fingers traveled down her cheek, she felt the crusted baby food that her daughter had coughed onto her face. If Morgan saw her like that, story time might be over.

Bolting into action, Syd kicked at the mass of covers on her bed. In her haste to get out of the bed, her foot got stuck in the thin sheet and she toppled over on the floor, hitting her elbow on the corner of the nightstand. Instead of swearing at the pain and the table, she suffered in silence for fear of waking the baby up.

She rubbed her arm and hobbled toward the bathroom. Ouch, that’s going to bruise.

After the quickest shower of her life, she emerged from the steaming enclosure and wrapped herself in a towel. At the mirror, she ran a comb through her curls and brushed her teeth.

Glancing at the clock in the bathroom, she saw that eight minutes had passed. He said naked. But she considered donning the skimpy piece of nothing she’d purchased at the store the other day. It would drive him crazy, and that’s exactly what she wanted.

She practically sprinted into the bedroom but stopped in her tracks upon seeing Morgan leaning against the dresser, arms folded across his chest. “Morgan,” she breathed.

His mouth turned up in a devilish grin as his gaze traveled from her face to her neck to her chest and down the length of her body. It was almost like he was touching her, fanning his fingers across her skin the way his hungry eyes took her in.

Sydney took a minute to check him out. He’d let his beard grow out a little, and the five o’clock shadow sent a surge of heat right to her core. He wore a pair of navy blue slacks and a dress shirt. The top button was open and the sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, giving her a glimpse of his muscular arms. The tattoo on his left arm peeked out from under the silk fabric. He looked damn good.

Her mouth fell open and she swallowed, gripping her towel. “You’re here,” she murmured, her voice strained.

With his eyes fixed on her mouth, he said, “You’re not naked.”

She let her towel fall to the floor with no hesitation. “I am now.” Slowly, she sauntered toward him, feeling brazen and a little crazy with need. She’d missed him, and seeing him standing before her made her want to grab him and hold on to him for eternity.

No words were necessary. Everything they needed to say, they said with their eyes, with the magnetic pull that seemed to take over whenever they were near each other. He brushed a finger down her cheek and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, jerking her to him. She gasped as he crushed her body against his, reveling in the feel of his hard chest against her soft breasts. He leaned down, rubbing his nose against her cheek, then lightly biting her jaw. Morgan trailed a line of kisses to her ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he groaned, his breath hot in her ear.

“I can’t believe you still have on clothes,” she retorted, bringing her fingers up to his collar.

Morgan gripped her hair in his fist and placed short, wet kisses down her neck. Arching her head back, she grinned as his tongue blazed a trail up her throat, her chin, until finally he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on it until she moaned his name.

Caressing his face, she trembled as he slipped his tongue into her waiting mouth, sliding it against hers before sucking on it. His arms snaked around her waist, almost as if he knew her legs would give out any minute, and he lifted her in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his long torso and he walked over to the bed, laying her down gently.

She couldn’t look away if she wanted to. Heat blazed in his eyes, and the air had seemingly changed. Slowly, he unbuckled his belt, removed his shirt, and pushed his pants and underwear to the floor, giving her an unabashed view of his magnificent body. His toned arms, strong legs, six-pack…Oh God, I want him.

Morgan kissed his way up her body, his lips lazily brushing over her skin, exploring every inch of her legs, her thighs, her… A soft bite against her inner thigh followed by his tongue made her fall back on the bed in surrender.

“Ouch,” she grunted, wincing in pain. She’d landed on something, and she knew exactly what it was, but she wanted to keep him from knowing.

His head snapped up, a furrow in his brow. Too late. “What? You okay?” His hands slipped beneath her and he pulled out the culprit. “What the—what the fuck is this?” he asked, holding up Morgan-Point-Five.

She felt her cheeks warm with a blush and dropped her gaze. “Um…”

A sexy grin formed on his mouth and she wanted to snatch her little friend out of his hand and push him back down between her legs.

“Morgan, you’re ruining the moment.” She covered her face as embarrassment flared. “I’m naked and lying under you.” She took the vibrator from him, tossed it across the room, and pulled him into a kiss.

It didn’t take long for the heat of their bodies, the movement of their tongues against each other, and the feel of his body on top of hers to pull them right back into bliss. He slowly kissed his way down her body, sucking and licking her skin in all the right places.

When she finally felt his breath over her core, she groaned.

“Morgan,” she whispered. “Oh God, stop playing with me.”

She’d half expected the first time they saw each other in a few weeks to be fast and furious, tearing clothes off, teeth and tongue foreplay…hard and deep. But the slow, deliberate lovemaking she knew was ahead would drive her just as crazy. Because she wanted him. Now.

“You want me to touch you?” he asked, sucking the sensitive skin of her thigh into his mouth.

“Yes,” she breathed, gripping the sheets in her fists.

“Or do you want your little toy to do its job?”

She smacked him on the shoulder, unable to help the laugh that escaped. “Asshole,” she said through clenched teeth. “You. I want you to touch me. I need you to touch me.”

“With my hands?” His thumb brushed over her slit. He let out a low curse. “Shit, baby. You’re wet.”

Coherent words escaped her, but her body reacted to his warmth, his gruff voice, his woodsy smell. Grumbling, she let out a string of…something?

“Or my mouth?” he asked.

Both.