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“Shh, shhh, shhh,” Scout says, rocking her two-month-old baby brother in his swing. “He’s sleeping, Mama,” she shouts, bounding into the kitchen — waking up Thomas in the process.
Noelle is piping icing on sugar cookies and has her hands full.
“I got it, babe,” I tell her, hands on her hip, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. I take my son from the swing, cradling his tiny body in my arms, inhaling his sweet newborn scent. This little one is like most babies. He likes to sleep and nurse, on repeat. Having him sleep in my arms is the sweetest thing in the world.
“He always stops crying when you hold him,” Scout says with a laugh.
“Cookies are done,” Noelle says. “Think Santa will like these?” she asks Scout.
Scout chooses a Christmas tree that is piped with white icing and takes a bite. “He will love them.”
Noelle and I exchange a smile as Scout finishes her treat. “Why don’t you get out a glass of milk for Santa, then it’s bedtime for you,” I tell her.
An hour later, Scout is tucked in bed, snoring with a noise machine lulling her to sleep, dreams of sugar plum fairies dancing in her head.
Noelle and I debate whether or not Thomas will stay asleep if we transition him to the crib. We just set it up a week ago and he doesn’t like to be in it for the whole night.
“Let’s try,” she says. “Even if it’s only for a half an hour, it would be enough time.”
I cock an eye at my Christmas bride as I set our son in his bed, turning on the baby monitor. “Enough time for what?”
She pulls me into the bedroom. “Enough time for Santa to eat his cookie.”
I laugh, as she takes off her terry cloth bathrobe. All year she has been incredible, and I fall more in love with her each day. It’s been a year of firsts but there isn’t a person in the world I’d rather get through good and bad times with.
And now she is in the nightie she wore a year ago, the night we first made love. Red with white fur trim, her tits even better than they were. Nursing has its perks. Selfish, sure, but damn, my wife looks hot as hell.
“How did I ever get so lucky?” I ask as she lifts the hem to her nightie, revealing a bare ass and a pretty pink pussy. I drag her to bed, needing her the same way I’ve needed her since the day we met.
Our children are asleep, and so we take the time while we have it. She and I, naked and alone. God, I love her.
She runs her hands over my body, her fingers on my willing shaft. Her kisses sending pleasure up and down my body. “You are the cutest Christmas cookie in the world, you know that, Noelle?”
I ease inside her as her legs wrap around me. She moans in delight as I gently fuck her, soft and tender with her body that has spent so much of the year growing our son, and now, keeping him alive.
“Is that your way of sweet talking me into going down your chimney?” she asks, with a smile as I squeeze her cute little butt.
“I love you, Noelle. And I want to put another baby in you so fucking badly.”
She is the one who brought it up a few days ago, asking what I thought of the idea. Now she knows: I would do anything to give her the life she wants. Her life is mine, her dreams, ours.
“Is it too crazy?” she asks as I move against her perfect body.
“We’re can be crazy together.”
I kiss her, the love we share for one another is in every touch, every word, every moment.
I came to Sugar Mountain without any dream of finding love. But once I arrived in this magical Christmas town, I was changed.
One look at her adorable face, one taste of her perfect sugar cookie, one kiss of her red lips — and I found my Christmas bride.
Now, I’ll never let her go.* * *Dear Reader,
I hope you have a very merry holiday!
xo, frankieAbout The BookMerry MeI first met Holly when we were sixteen years old.
She was sugar, I was an effed up version of spice.
I wasn’t good enough for her — but damn how I wanted her.
Heartbreaking circumstances pulled us apart and it’s been years since I’ve seen her angelic face.
But I could never forget her.
She was my first kiss and I want her to be my last.
When I come back in town, things have changed — she’s moved on.
But I have one intention — prove to her I can be the mountain man she needs.
I’m holding out for more than a Christmas miracle.
I’m going to get myself a Christmas bride.
