Dear Bella: A Family Justice Novella Read online

  They immediately ran to the other side of the pool and peered into the inky blackness of the open area behind their house. It took a minute of focus but out in the distance they could make out the amazing sight of a shiny red sleigh trimmed in gleaming gold plus eight massive reindeer. In the rear of the empty sleigh was a gigantic bag filled with visible presents.

  Bella gasped. “Oh!”

  “Is that… Santa?” Heather asked incredulously.

  Bella immediately began jumping up and down. “It is! It is! Heather!” She cried out. “He came!”

  As they watched in amazed astonishment Santa appeared next to the sleigh and jumped in. Grabbing the reins, he gave a quick jerk and they heard his cry of, “To the sky boys!”

  With that, the sleigh magically rose, hovered high above for a long moment and then circled round the house before shooting skyward as golden sparks shot from the rear of the sleigh.

  Heather was so damn impressed that she was as speechless as the six-year-old standing mute by her side.

  Remembering her part she suddenly whirled. “Bella! Quick! You have to get in bed and go right to sleep!”

  The kid didn’t question or hesitate. Project Red Suit was a complete success when she tore off running like a bat out of hell. Heather nearly laugh-peed at the comical sight of little Bella scrambling up the big stairs to the second floor while kicking the fuzzy slippers into the air and tearing off her robe.

  Running after her to keep up, she made it to Bella’s room as she was saying her prayers, arriving in time to hear her say, “Happy Birthday Jesus.”

  Heather turned on the little fairy lamp with the night light bulb next to the door. Two decorative pillows went sailing through the air in Bella’s haste to get under the covers.

  Bending over she smoothed stray wisps of hair from around the child’s precious face and kissed her forehead.

  “I love you baby Bella.”

  Like a puppet whose strings were released, the overly excited and overly tired child fell straight into the arms of slumber with a murmured, “Love you too.”

  As she left the room Heather turned at the last minute and stared with loving eyes upon her surprise daughter.

  “Tomorrow we’ll be a real family,” she heard Bella murmur.

  It was a curious thing for her to say but she didn’t have time to think any more about it because the sound of a door opening and closing told her Brody was in their bedroom.

  Which meant she had a Santa to seduce.

  Brody tossed aside the fake beard and bent for a better look in the mirror as he peeled a pair of bushy white eyebrows off his face. The theatre lover in his soul wouldn’t allow for half a performance when the stakes were so high, which meant he’d gone full boogie and donned make-up in order to create the perfect Santa for his daughter.

  “Ho-Ho-Ho,” he growled when the eyebrow glue stuck too well and made his eyes water with the last tugs and pulls.

  Swiping a wet cloth over his face, he looked in the mirror and laughed at the sight he made. With the hat and facial hair gone and the heavy fake belly discarded, he was back to being Brody only dressed in red velvet pants with black boots and suspenders. He still wore Santa’s coat but it hung open and showed his bare chest.

  A soft, sexy voice from behind him wrapped around his heart. “Those black boots have come in handy. First for your inner pirate and now the jolly elf. Nice.”

  He searched and found her eyes in the mirror. She was giving him a deliberately randy once-over. The longing in her eyes held him in thrall. Desire and flaming, red-hot lust swirled around them. The air in the bedroom became heavy. For a second Brody wasn’t sure there would be time to make it to the bed. Not when the idea of bending her over the Tantra chair and taking her with ferocious urgency lit up his senses.

  “Let me help you,” she murmured.

  Despite the air positively dripping with a pure, raw, do-me-dirty sex vibe, she appeared totally casual and at ease. Heather gave good bluff. She was a natural when the role-playing started, even if all they were doing was kidding around. They were fucking perfect for each other.

  He had no idea when they started as fuck buddies that the closed-off, slightly damaged woman he lusted after could nonchalantly switch into sexy geisha mode and put him squarely in the moment with all of his senses functioning at their peak.

  Her fingers touched his neck, shoulders and back—very lightly—as she helped peel the heavy red velvet Santa coat from him. Each point of contact zapped his libido and sent his excitement off the charts with wild spikes of arousal.

  It was her voice however and the seductive resonance that nearly sent him to his knees. He didn’t just hear every soft, husky sounding word. Brody could feel them too. Like a cascade of warm honey poured on the crown of his head he gave in to the sensation and luxuriated in the inane chatter, concentrating on the sensual vibe pulsing around them.

  “Santa Daddy was a success. I think you could get Bella to agree to almost anything right now if the suggestion came from the North Pole.”

  Lost in a fog of growing lust, he was overcome by a stupid grin when he was pretty damn sure she accidentally brushed his dick when she said North Pole.

  Yeah, Santa’s got a pole just waiting for her to explore.

  “Hey,” he chuckled. “It gets fucking dark out back when the moon isn’t bright and the flood lights are off. I’m surprised you could see me at all.”

  There were plenty of cool as shit things all over the world to marvel over. The Taj Mahal came to mind because he’d actually been to India and seen it. Same for the Grand Canyon and the old FAO Schwartz store in Manhattan. He enjoyed looking at stuff and considered himself to be a visual guy. Probably why he was easily trained as a marksman.

  But holy Justice spitballs, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, more worthy of being marveled over and flat out ogled as Heather Clarke’s ass when she was strutting her stuff.

  With the heavy coat gone, he looped his thumbs in the black suspenders holding up the pants and observed the sexy sway of her magnificent hips as she took the coat and draped it over one of their easy chairs.

  He wasn’t a complete idiot even though he sometimes came off that way so when she bent from the waist, straight-legged and examined a fleck of fairy dust or something on the red velvet he definitely picked up the signals she was sending.

  Was the fact that she had on a clingy, one-piece pajama outfit that made her look like an elf weird? Absofuckinglutely not. Come on, he thought. Get real! What could be more perfect than Santa being serviced by his main elf? Dirty old man, much? Yeah and he’d take the title too. Probably run with it because after all, Lou D Bauchery was one of his nicknames.

  There was one particular clue or signal or tell or whatever the hell you wanna call it that all guys with functioning brain cells recognize. It’s the one where she pulls her hair into a tail and twirls until there’s a bun that magically stays put. Hair out of the way generally indicates shit’s about to get real. His dick started doing a happy dance.

  “The family really came through for you. I can’t wait to see her reaction in the morning.”

  There were a lot of things about tomorrow that he couldn’t wait for. His mother’s ring was all but burning a hole in his pocket but he had to stick to the plan starting with reminding her she was a big part of the family she referred to.

  “They came through for us, babe. You and me. And Bella. Team Jensen.”

  A glimmer of happy sparkles showed in her eyes. He made a quick mental note to make Team Jensen hoodies happen as quickly as humanly possible. If Justice could brand everything except the air, he could certainly tag his family and probably kick off a trend.

  “Oh shit,” she suddenly murmured. Her hand swiped slowly down his chest from throat to waist.

  Touching him earned an exasperated ‘oh shit?’

  “I forgot about Georgie. He’s quarantined in the laundry room.”

  He hoped she was joking. The damn dog live
d a life of fucking canine luxury. All the Justice family pets did. It was ridiculous. Even more so because he was the chief instigator behind how the animals were handled. Served him right if his own fuckery ended up squashing his amorous pursuits.

  “Pretty sure he’s fine,” he drawled. Capturing her hand to keep the flesh-to-flesh contact going, he pressed her fingers against his skin. “And newsflash. Santa doesn’t like being cockblocked by a dog.”

  Her beaming smile and soft laugh made his heart beat faster.

  “Well, if you’re sure, Santa. I don’t want to end up on the naughty list for ignoring my pet.”

  He snorted and eyed her up with obvious lechery. “Ms. Clarke,” he growled. “You were already on the naughty list in the column marked ‘Naughty Good Girls’.

  She ran her fingers up and down the suspenders and rather audaciously stared at the obvious bulge in Santa’s velvet pants.

  “Actually Santa, I’m bad,” she purred. “Very, very bad.”

  “Woman! Did you peek at your presents?” He was enjoying himself immensely.

  Nodding, she moved in close for the pouty coquette act that she knew would guarantee his randy response.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Kama Sutra oils, a paint brush and a feather? Santa has a kinky side.”

  Banding his arm tight around her waist he pulled her in with a strong jerk and tipped her chin up with one finger.

  “Santa wants to fuck you with his North Pole until every time you move the next day you’re reminded of his big cock buried inside you.”

  “I can live with that,” she was murmuring when he swiftly moved and pulled her to the Tantra lounger.

  “But before there’s cock to pussy contact, Santa thinks what you need is a good girl spanking for being a naughty peeker.”

  Dropping down, he yanked her over his lap as he sat and enjoyed watching her flail and squirm from surprise. No way had she expected this. Not yet anyway. Not while she was still fully covered in that awful one-piece pajama monstrosity.

  Caressing her sweet ass with slow circles he swore that even through the pajamas he could see her skin ripple with pleasure.

  Sliding between her legs he stroked her covered mound and smiled at her sultry groan.

  “Curious about the paint brush?”

  She trembled slightly and said, “yes.”

  “Body massage with the oils until you’re relaxed and fully aroused. Satin ties to bind your hands to your thighs.”

  She gasped no doubt because she could visualize what he had in mind.

  “A fine position for good naughty girls. Exposed, vulnerable, helpless.”

  Making a wide circle on her bottom first, he swung his hand and smacked the same spot. She jumped, moaned and clenched her ass—all good signs.”

  “The feather first. Touching you everywhere. Light and gentle.”

  Smack. More moans.

  “By the way, Santa likes to look. Long and hard.”

  Smack, smack.

  “Your beautiful pussy becomes flushed from arousal. Imagine a fuck-blush and it’s very pretty. A driblet of moisture gathers at the entrance. You want to be touched quite badly.”

  He caressed her ass some more and landed a few delicious whacks that got her writhing in no time.

  Hauling her backwards, he straddled the lounger and dropped her flat on her back with her legs on either side of his. He pulled her forward until their clothing covered bodies touched intimately. When she tried to put her legs around his hips he tsked and pushed them onto the floor.

  Tracing a finger up and down the crotch of her pajamas, he felt the exquisite heat radiating from her center.

  “This is where the paint brush comes in.” He started slowly building a scene with his words, watching her breathing become choppy and seeing a lust-filled haze sweep across her eyes.

  “So there you are. Bound, spread open, begging to be fucked. That’s when it’s time to paint your pretty little clit. Up and down. Back and forth. Circles and taps.”

  He ground his fingers against her in the same spot he was talking about.

  “In case you ever wondered,” he drawled with a husky chuckle. “Your pussy looks swollen and the sexy nub? Yeah. I like that very much. And the more I tease your clit, the wetter you become.”

  “My god. You’re killing me.”

  He chuckled. They were still dressed and yet here she was teetering on the brink of coming and all he’d done was spank her bottom and tease with words.

  Toying with her some more seemed like fun but he was rock hard and ready to get down to business.

  “Aw,” he snickered. “Do you want Santa to fuck your pretty pussy?”

  Something about what he said or the positions they were in must have flipped a switch because she sat up, dropped a smacking kiss on his startled lips and said, “Well of course! But first, I think Santa deserves a Christmas Eve reward for what he pulled off tonight.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Standing beside him she made a comic striptease of wriggling out of the onesie complete with a bit more bent over at the waist posturing as she pushed the garment down her legs. The position gave him a front row seat to view her pussy and enjoy seeing the plain white panties clinging to her mound.

  “If you try to say no, I will pout,” she informed him.

  His cock surged. Heather Clarke’s very naughty good girl side was on a roll and he couldn’t wait to learn what objectionable fuckery she was imagining.

  Even though her thatch of sweet curls was on full display, she demurely covered her tits with both hands.

  “Let me lay it out for you Santa. You need your North Pole worked on. And not just sucked either.”

  Oh god. What was going on in her filthy mind?

  Brody saw her eye the Tantra lounger and the bed as if making a decision.

  “When Santa is ready to make his um, delivery,” she snickered with a decidedly suggestive lip swipe, “here’s what I want.”

  He arched a brow at her choice of words.

  “You heard me, big guy. This is my Christmas fantasy so don’t even try to take control.”

  Holy fuck.

  When she moved in for the kill, he was beyond ready to give her whatever the fuck she wanted due in no small measure to the blazing inferno of lusty need glowing in her expression.

  “Remember that Tumblr page we looked at?”

  Dear sweet baby Jesus. That’s what she wanted to try? He wasn’t so sure. There was no denying what she had in mind was hot as fuck but the pleasure would be all his and he felt a shocking lack of confidence that he could put her through that no matter how much she begged or how delicious the experience.

  “Hey. What did I tell you?” she sniped. Grabbing his face she kissed him with ferocious passion and then stepped back. “My fantasy. No is not an option.”

  Shit.

  “Oh, and you won’t be getting naked. I like the red suit and the shit kicking boots.”

  “Jesus, woman. Is this a pants around the ankles scenario?”

  “Fuck to the yeah, Santa,” she said with a bit too much enthusiasm.

  He did a supersonically speedy assessment in his head of what was sure to happen when he gave in, because he would. Give in. How could he not?

  Slipping into character he grinned at his sexy paramour and snapped the suspenders against his chest with a loud thwap, trying at the same time not to wince from the sting.

  “Okay young lady, if Santa coming down your throat is what you want for Christmas, who am I to deny such a good girl her hot wish?”

  She giggled, clapped her hands exuberantly and chirped, “Oh goody!”

  “I’m yours to command, love.”

  He watched amused as she ran around the room and set up the sexy scene she saw in her head.

  “Let’s be smart and stay close to the bed, okay?”

  He nodded and grabbed a pouty nipple to give it a pinch.

  “If I can’t do much talking, you know what I want at
the end, right?”

  Brody took a deep breath and made a brief jerky nod.

  “I trust you Santa so don’t look like I’m asking you to do something terrible.”

  Okay. She wasn’t going to back down or change her mind so he shrugged off his misgivings and gave her what she wanted.

  Wrapping a hand around her slim neck he gave her a dirty leer. “I understand what you want. Now get on your knees baby and suck Santa’s cock like a good girl.”

  She dutifully sank to the floor, put her hands on her knees and smiled up at him.

  Unzipping the velvet pants, he reached in, pushed his briefs out of the way and pulled his fully erect cock out. Her eyes lit up with delight.

  For shits and grins he stayed in character and gave her a detailed explanation of what Santa’s cock liked.

  “Now pay attention because Santa is only going to go over this once.”

  Heather licked her lips and gave a husky, aroused giggle.

  “This,” he announced with a grand sweeping flourish, “ is the real North Pole which in case you ever really thought about it is a good representation of Santa’s actual cock.”

  “Oooh,” Heather murmured. “I get it now!”

  Holding his hard flesh firmly with one hand, he made a production out of showing off the plump, smooth head.

  “See this whole helmet looking part? Lots of licks, kisses and saliva. And don’t ignore any precum your wicked mouth causes. I expect you to lick it off.”

  “My pleasure, Santa.”

  Pulling his cock upright, he pointed to the thick veiny ridge running along the underside. “This is a road map. Study it with your tongue. Trace the path. Nibbling is another way to please Santa.”

  “Understood,” she replied with mock seriousness. “Follow the path. Stop and have a picnic.”

  He had to try damn hard not to laugh.

  “See this spot right here?” He said with particular emphasis as he directed her attention to the top underside. “There’s two things going on here.”

  She was watching avidly, aware that he was giving valuable information.