Santa Monica Baby (Holidays in LA #3)

Epilogue

Valentine's Day

Nellie

I might never eat fish again.

Austin hadn’t been joking when he’d told me about the Amato family’s Feast of Twelve Fishes. In fact, it was thirteen dishes, by my count. There were fish I had never even heard of before.

“Will somebody pass the perch, please?”

That was one of them. What the hell was a perch, and why did it taste so good coated in brown butter?

“So, Janelle.” I turned my attention toward Char, Austin’s oldest sister. Something told me that she could give Tabitha a run for her money when it came to intimidation tactics. “Do you still have family in Ohio?”

“Definitely. In fact, my sister and I are really the only ones who moved away.”

“And you both settled in L.A.?”

She eyed my plate suspiciously. I had done my best to move around what was left so it looked like I’d eaten more, but apparently not well enough. “She moved to L.A. about a decade before I did, but yes. Now we live within a few miles of each other.”

“Do you hear that?” This time, the question was directed toward her sisters, Madi and Sav. “Janelle doesn’t abandon her sister, like some people I know.”

“My restaurant is in Boston,” Madi whined. “What am I supposed to do?”

“What’s your excuse, Miss Florida?”

Sav shrugged. “The beaches are better.”

Thankful that Char had directed her ire elsewhere and that her inquisition was over—at least for now—I pivoted in my seat to face the kitchen. Austin had disappeared at least ten minutes ago, supposedly to fetch more gravy, but now I wasn’t so sure

“He’s just changing,” Austin’s mom whispered from the seat beside me.

“Did he spill or something?”

She shook her head and smiled. “He’s putting on his other suit.”

His Santa suit.

I nodded with understanding.

“You know,” I said softly, “I’ve seen him in action in his other suit, and he’s absolutely incredible. He has a real gift.” And because I knew Austin would never talk himself up, especially not to his family, I went on singing his praises. “His photographs, too. Did you know that one of them is going to be on the cover of a magazine next month? He never ceases to amaze me.”

She stared back at me, bewildered. There was something else there, too. Pride, maybe. And why not? She should be proud of her son and the person he had become, the man she had raised him to be.

“Thank you.”

I blinked, taken aback. “For what?”

“For being the partner that my son deserves.”

Fuck. I cursed myself when I felt my eyes water. This was not the time or the place. I refused to cry over shrimp scampi and cod lasagna.

“Please, do me a favor.” Austin’s mom covered my hand with hers. “Be sure to tell him so every day.”

I do. “I will.”

She patted my hand. “Now, pass me the mussels, honey.”

Talk about one hell of a weird Valentine’s Day, that was for sure. Not quite the nonstop fuckfest I had envisioned for my first Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend, but still, the night was young.

Austin and I had the entire basement all to ourselves, and there was a brand-new lace teddy burning a hole in my carry-on suitcase.

“Ho, ho, ho.”

Yes. Yes, I am.

Austin descended the stairs dressed in full Santa garb, white gloves and all. His nieces and nephews rushed from the dinner table to greet him, followed quickly by the rest of the family.

I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told his mom he had a gift. I stood back, poised against the wall covered in childhood photos, watching him engage with the children. How he was able to give each of them his undivided attention, one at a time, was beyond me.

It was when he was halfway through handing out gifts that the primal urge came over me.

Maybe it was the velvet.

Maybe it was the leather boots.

Maybe it was the fact that he was good with kids and that made me want to do stupid things, like beg him to put a baby inside me.

Whatever the case, I knew that I had to have him now.

White gloves and all.

Austin

“Dear Santa, you might be surprised to know that I’ve been a bad girl this year. And as we both know, naughty girls must be punished.”

I turned the paper into my chest when my two-year-old nephew came streaking through the kitchen in the buff.

“Madison,” I shouted down the hall. “Your kid is naked.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she grumbled, chasing after him.

I waited until the sound of their footsteps disappeared before opening up Nellie’s note again. She had slipped it into the pocket of my Santa coat nearly an hour ago before disappearing down the basement steps. Thankfully, I had waited to read it until after the kids—minus my naked nephew—had gone to bed. It would have been mighty difficult to hide an erection in this suit.

“Somebody once told me that only good girls get what they want for Christmas, but I’m hoping you’ll make an exception, just this once.”

I groaned, palming my greedy cock through the velvet pants. Role-playing aside, Nellie knew that I would give her anything she wanted, plus a healthy dose of what she needed. All she had to do was ask.

“All I want for Christmas is you, Santa. Fuck me, use me, fill me up with your cum. Tonight, I’m your toy. I’ll be waiting downstairs, in a special outfit I picked specifically for you.”

I took off for the basement like an animal unleashed. It took all of ten seconds to reach the bottom step, and when I did, I nearly came in my pants. That would have made for one hell of an awkward trip to the dry cleaners.

There she was—my naughty girl—standing in the middle of my sister’s rumpus room, wearing nothing but a scrape of red lace . . . and faux white fur trim. She might as well have been naked. She will be soon. Even under the glow of the twinkle lights strung around the room’s perimeter, I could see the patch of hair between her thighs and the pretty pink nipples threatening to break through her teddy.

“Did you read my letter, Santa?” she asked, batting her long eyelashes at me.

“I did.”

“And?”

Nellie bit her lip coyly, waiting to see what came next.

“And I think it’s time that Santa taught you what happens to girls on the naughty list. Come here.”

She slunk toward me, her hips swaying hypnotically. My breath caught when she ran her fingers down my chest, toying with the edges of my coat.

“Did I say you could touch me?” I growled, grabbing her wrist. “On your knees.”

Nellie's eyes widened, a mixture of fear and excitement flashing across her face. She hesitated for just a moment before slowly sinking to her knees, her gaze never leaving mine.

“My naughty girl,” I said, my voice low and husky.

With my free hand, I slowly undid the buttons of my red coat, revealing the bare skin beneath. I was suddenly grateful I had decided to forgo the undershirt tonight. I guessed I had Char to thank for that one; she kept her thermostat higher than Death Valley six months of the year.

Nellie's gaze dropped, drinking in the sight hungrily.

“Eyes up here,” I commanded, giving her silky hair a sharp tug. She gasped, her attention snapping back to my face. “Now, I think it's time you showed Santa just how sorry you are for being so naughty.”

I released her hair and stepped to the corner of the room, sitting down in the plush armchair that was typically covered in kids’ toys and extra blankets. Spreading my legs wide, I beckoned her forward with one finger.

“Come here and unwrap your present.”

Nellie crawled toward me, her movements slow and deliberate. When she reached me, her trembling hands moved to my belt buckle, her eyes locked on mine the whole time. Slowly, seductively, she unbuckled it, her soft fingers brushing against the erection tenting my pants. A low growl escaped my lips as anticipation coursed through me.

“That's it,” I rasped. “Take it out, baby girl.”

With a shaky exhale, Nellie pulled down my pants and boxer briefs, revealing my hard length. Her eyes widened, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned forward and ran her tongue along the swollen head of my cock, sending shivers down my spine.

“Beg for it.”

“ Please. ”

“Please, what?”

“Please, Daddy,” she purred. “Please let me have your cock.”

I couldn't hold back any longer, not when she was asking nicely.

With a growl, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and guided her mouth.. Looking up at me again with big, beautiful eyes, she placed her hands on my thighs before leaning in and licking a stripe up the underside of my throbbing cock.

“ Fuck ,” I hissed.

She went back for seconds, tasting the bead of precum leaking from my slit. My hips gave an involuntary thrust when she gave a soft, little hum, like she enjoyed the flavor.

“You can take more of me, baby.”

Nellie moaned around me as I pushed deeper, her lips stretching to accommodate my girth.

“That's it, baby girl, take it all.”

She bobbed her head eagerly, her tongue swirling around my shaft as she sucked. The sight of her on her knees, still in that lacy Santa number, was almost too much to bear. I gripped the armrests of the chair, fighting the urge to thrust up into her warm, wet mouth.

As Nellie worked her magic, I lost myself in the sensations. Her tongue swirling around my length, the gentle scrape of her teeth, the way her throat constricted around me when she took me deep—it was exquisite torture. I could feel the pressure building, threatening to overwhelm me.

I groaned again, my self-control rapidly unraveling. She kept going, sucking and licking. When she cupped my balls, I knew I had reached my limit.

The gloves came off.

“Stop,” I growled, gently drawing her head back.

Nellie whimpered, her lips swollen and glistening. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

“Nothing, baby. Your mouth is fucking incredible, but I'm not finished with you yet.”

With a swift motion, I pulled her up and tossed her over my shoulder, relishing her squeal of surprise and delight.

A sharp crack to her ass made her yelp.

“This is your punishment, remember?”

In one fluid motion, I dumped her onto the bed, coming down on top of her. She gasped as I roughly spread her legs, exposing her dripping center. The scrap of lace that passed for panties was soaked through.

“Look how wet you are for me,” I murmured, running a finger along her slit.

I teased her entrance, feeling her hips buck against my hand. Nellie whimpered, her eyes pleading.

“ Please, Daddy . I need you inside me.”

“Patience, baby girl,” I growled, slowly circling her clit. “You've been naughty, remember? Naughty girls don't get what they want right away.”

She buried her face in the pillow when I dipped two fingers inside her, relishing how tight and wet she felt. We were going to wake the whole house up at this rate, and yet, I couldn’t be bothered to care.

Nellie moaned, arching her back as I pumped my fingers in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, swirling them up and back against her G-spot.

“More, please,” she begged, her hands fisting the sheets.

I smirked, enjoying her desperate pleas. “More what, baby girl? Use your words.”

“More . . . everything.” Her hips rocked against my hand. “Faster, harder.”

I obliged, increasing the pace of my fingers and adding a third. The wet sounds of her arousal filled the room.

“That's it,” I growled, feeling her inner walls start to clench. “Come for me.”

With a strangled moan, Nellie came undone. Her body shook as waves of pleasure washed over her. I worked her through it, only slowing my movements when she whimpered from oversensitivity.

As she lay there panting, I positioned myself between her legs.

I lined up my throbbing cock with her entrance, still slick and sensitive from her orgasm. Slowly, I pushed inside, savoring every inch as her tight heat enveloped me.

Nellie gasped, digging her nails under my coat and into my back as I filled her completely.

“God, I’ll never get tired of having you like this, feeling you wrapped around me.” Her legs tightened around my waist, pulling me closer still. “I love you so fucking much.”

She stilled. We both did.

It was safe to say that this probably wasn’t how either of us had pictured saying those words for the first time. It wasn’t every day that you told the love of your life how you felt about her while balls deep and dressed like Santa. Which was why we both burst out laughing.

“I love you, too.”

Her pussy contracted around my cock with each spurt of laughter, making me groan. The urge to taste her was too much to resist. My heart thudded in my chest, my pulse pounding as I found her lips.

“Now fuck me like you love me, Santa.”

I didn't need to be told twice. I started with slow, deep thrusts, relishing the way her walls clenched around me. Nellie moaned softly with each roll of my hips, her nails digging into my shoulders.

“Harder,” she pleaded.

Growling, I picked up the pace, slamming into her with abandon. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by our shared moans of pleasure. Nellie’s head fell back, exposing the long line of her throat. I couldn't resist leaning down to nip and suck at the sensitive skin there, leaving my mark.

“Oh, fuck yes.”

Her legs tightened around me, heels digging into my lower back as she urged me deeper. I gripped her hips, angling them upward to hit that spot inside her that I knew would make her see stars.

When her inner walls fluttered around my cock, I skimmed a hand up her throat and squeezed.

“Come for me again, baby,” I growled in her ear. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

Her back arched as she cried out, her orgasm crashing over her. The pulsing of her pussy around me was too much to bear. With a guttural moan, I buried myself to the hilt inside her and let go, my release pulsing deep within her trembling body. We clung to each other, panting and shuddering through the aftershocks.

Slowly, I released my grip on her throat and pressed a tender kiss to her flushed cheek. Nellie's eyes fluttered open, pupils still blown wide with pleasure. A satisfied smile curved her lips as she ran her fingers through my sweat-dampened hair.

“That was . . . ,” she breathed.

“Incredible,” I finished, freeing myself from the scratchy polyester beard before capturing her mouth in a languid kiss.

We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the afterglow. Eventually, Nellie propped herself up on an elbow to look at me, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Ready for round two?” she asked. “Assuming Mrs. Claus isn’t waiting up for you.”

“She’ll be waiting a long time,” I told her, pulling her lips back to mine.

“Merry Christmas, Austin,” she whispered.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Janelle.”