Sucking Santa's Candy Cane Page 2

  Oh, my!

  Santa leaned in and whispered. “I want more of you.”

  She gripped his shoulders and squeezed. “I want more, too.”

  He stepped away from her and Noelle’s hands abandoned Santa’s shoulders. He extended one hand to her. “Get up.”

  She took his hand and climbed off the trunk willingly. Her juices shifted and dripped onto her thighs. Noelle took a careful step toward him.

  His lips crashed over her mouth, possessing it as though it belonged to him. He nibbled and suckled on her lips until she gasped for breath.

  “I want to taste you,” he whispered against her. “I want you to come into my mouth.”

  She gasped, moaned, wanted to scream. He had set her body on fire and she longed to have him invade her.

  He intertwined his fingers with hers. “Will you come in my mouth, my dirty girl?”

  She was his dirty girl? No one had ever considered her as dirty before. No, Wendy was the dirty girl in the family. Noelle was the good sister.

  Yet, a thrill raced down her body as she contemplated being dirty. Yes, it was time for her to be more like her younger sister.

  Santa led her behind his car and slightly out of view of the street.

  “Stand,” he said and let go of her hands. He hugged her middle, letting his hands slide down her hips, her thighs. He reached underneath the hem of her dress and gripped her panties. Pulling on the fabric, he dragged the black thong down her thighs, her legs, all the way to the ground.

  Noelle stepped out of the soaking wet underwear and kicked them aside. This thong would not be missed.

  Santa kneeled down in front of her. He pulled her closer until his face pressed into her middle. His hands traveled up, bringing the hem of her dress to her hips. Gently, he lifted her left leg and tossed it over his shoulder.

  The instant his tongue touched her clit, Noelle leaned against the car behind her. Her head spun with pleasure and desire.

  He flicked his tongue over her clit several times. Each time her body vibrated with sensations. Her lips parted and soft moans escaped her throat.

  Santa’s tongue roamed over her vaginal folds and licked at the juices.

  She moaned, louder, harder, as her hips swayed back and forth. Her breasts became tender and her nipples hardened.

  He flicked his tongue over her clit again, over and over, until she squirmed under him.

  Noelle moved one hand under the sweater and rubbed her breast. She moved the fabric of her dress and bra aside. With thumb and index finger, she pinched one nipple.

  Stars started to dance overhead as her body was rocked into an abyss of pleasure and fulfillment.

  A few more flicks of his tongue and Noelle screamed, loudly, as she reached a state of blissful paradise.

  Her hips rocked back and forth and Santa grabbed her by the ass cheeks, steadying her. He lapped at the juices that escaped her pussy and dripped down her thighs.

  As the waves of pleasure crashed one over the other, as her pussy clenched and released around his tongue, his voice carried to her. “You taste so good. So fucking good.”

  She moaned, lost for words as pleasure almost blinded her.

  He stuck one finger into her ass. “You’re so fucking naughty. My dirty little minx.”

  She moaned, loving the way he talked to her, so sexy, and dirty, yet enticing.

  “Whoa!” An unfamiliar sound wafted to her.

  Quickly, Noelle turned her head toward the sound. She hadn’t noticed the tow truck, but it sat idling on the side of the road right in front of Santa’s car. The driver gazed at her with raw lust in his eyes. His cock was obviously stiff inside the bulge in his pants.

  Santa had stopped suckling and licking on her. Noelle quickly dislodged her leg from his shoulder and swiftly placed it on the ground, both legs together as though to ward off this man in case he made any advances. She quickly removed her hand from her breast and intertwined her fingers together.

  Santa stood beside her.

  The tow truck driver glanced down as though embarrassed. “Which car needs to be towed?”

  “The red,” they both said almost in unison.

  The tow truck driver nodded and went to work.

  Santa spun Noelle around to face him. She lowered her head, embarrassed by what had just happened. Santa lifted her chin and smiled reassuringly. “Did you enjoy that?”

  “Before the interruption, yes.” She glanced at the car being lifted onto the tow truck. Her coffee cup, which had once rested on the trunk, now lay on the ground, the minty latte spilled on the road. She glanced back at Santa. “How are you going to get to Indiana?”

  He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know.”

  Before logic could win over, Noelle quickly offered. “I’m going to Wisconsin, which is along the way. I could give you a ride.” She hoped she wouldn’t regret that offer.

  Santa smiled at her. “That would be great.” He kissed her cheek as a cold, bitter wind blew. She shivered slightly. “Why don’t you wait for me in the car?”

  Noelle nodded and walked away.

  Once she was inside the car, Noelle looked out the window at Santa as he paid for the tow. She quickly checked her glove box for the police issued gun and handcuffs just in case Santa turned out to be a psychopath. As she saw him approach, she threw both things into her purse and tossed it onto the floor behind the passenger seat.

  Santa climbed into her car and she turned on the ignition. As she started down the almost deserted highway, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “So tell me, Santa, now that we know each other in a carnal way, what is your last name.”

  “Claus.”

  She turned her head and glanced at him. “No, seriously.”

  “Really, my name is Santa Claus.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Santa Claus is fat, jolly, and fictional.”

  “Fat and jolly was my father, Santa Claus Sr. And he was real.” A look of sadness passed over his face.

  For a second, Noelle felt a pang of pain hit her chest as sympathy enveloped her. “I’m sorry.” Really? He thought his dad was good ol’ jolly Santa Claus? Who was this joker? “Come on dude, if you were really Santa, I’d be sucking on your candy cane just to get a good gift.”

  He gave her a sexy wink and his lips spread into a smile. “You would like it. It’s peppermint, you know.”

  She rolled her eyes as bitterness hit her chest. Wendy was lucky. Wendy had sex with a stranger and he turned out to be Prince Charming. No, not Noelle. Noelle had sex with a stranger and he turned out to be a delusional nutjob. Now she was stuck with the crazy numbskull for another twelve hours or so. Just her luck, having sex with an out of this world, amazing lover who just seemed to be certifiably crazy.

  Chapter Two

  Noelle turned on the heat in the car and started rolling down the expressway. Beautiful, naked trees lined the almost empty road.

  There had to be a normal explanation to his name being Santa Claus. What if she misheard it? His name could be Santa Klaus. Klaus was a popular last name in Germany, and she had a Lithuanian friend back in high school whose name was Santa.

  "So where are you from? Originally?"

  "North."

  That wasn't much help. "North where?"

  "North Pole."

  Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as frustration seeped into her. North Pole? People lived out there, right? It wasn't just for Santa's Workshop, right? Damn it, she wished she could do her research and find out more about that part of the world.

  "So what about your family? What nationality are they?"

  Santa shrugged. "I don't know for sure. I think Mom's origins are from Finland or Denmark, or something. I don't know for sure about dad."

  Noelle relaxed a little. It was all coming into place. The man in her car wasn't a complete psycho. He was just international.

  "Tell me more about this gift shop where you work."

  He glanced at her. "I nev
er said I work in a gift shop."

  "You said…"

  "I work in a gift service. I give gifts."

  She rolled her eyes and bit her bottom lip in order to push away the frustrated sigh that threatened to escape. "You are not Santa Claus."

  "Yes, I am."

  What was it with this guy? "Your name might be Santa but you're not the fictional character. By the way, Santa Claus is fictional!"

  "I'm real."

  He had to be joking. There was no way he actually thought he was the gift-giving Christmas tradition.

  As though reading her thoughts, he burst out laughing. "You are so easy to fuck with."

  It was as though a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. This man wasn't crazy after all!

  "My name is Santa Claus, though. I'm an oncologist at the children's hospital in Memphis."

  She laughed too while accelerating the car. "So what's the deal with the gift business?"

  He stretched in his seat. "It's more of a tradition but my dad used to call it the family business. Every year around the holidays, we give to those who are less fortunate and those who need it."

  Her heart squeezed. He really was a nice guy. "Well, I'm less fortunate. I need something." She pouted.

  Santa placed his hand on her knee, circling it upward toward her thigh. "And what is it that you need?"

  She moaned and sighed. "You're distracting me now."

  "How is that?" His hand roamed under the hem of her dress. "Do you now have conflicting wishes?"

  "Oh, very conflicting. At first I wanted to find a mental hospital to drop you off at, but now I'm leaning toward a hotel."

  He leaned over and kissed the side of her neck as his fingers brushed over her pussy. "I think a hotel is a lot more appealing than a mental hospital. Don't you agree?"

  Excitement raced through her as she slightly lost control of the car. It swerved, and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

  When she had the car under control again, she glanced ahead, straight at a highway marquee proclaiming gas and accommodation, next exit. She never stopped to think, to ask. She just took the next exit.

  Santa's big hand cupped her breast through the thick red sweater she still wore. The contact caused both nipples to harden as though eager for his touch.

  Thoughts raced through her as she turned into the street with the lone gas station and the hotel behind it.

  What am I doing? Should I get back onto the expressway? This is not me. I'm not a fuck on the first encounter kind of girl.

  Noelle glanced at him as though seeking the answers to her dilemma. Instead, all that looked back at her was an expression of lust. His eyelids covered the top half of his eyes. The arousal in them almost made her gasp.

  What would Wendy do? Not that she wanted to be like Wendy, but that woman did have a way better love life than Noelle did.

  Wendy would go with him. She would fulfill all her sexual fantasies on the stranger. Pushing the doubt out of her mind, she turned toward the hotel.

  "Good girl," Santa whispered, as though he had read her mind and knew the choice she just battled with.

  She was about to pass the gas station when Santa put his hand on the steering wheel. "Turn in there. I need something."

  Noelle did as told. After she parked her car by the gas station entrance and Santa jumped out, she sat by herself and mulled her decision over further.

  Maybe she should call someone. Someone smart who would talk her out of the dumb thing she just did.

  She reached into the back seat toward her purse and phone.

  If she did call someone, then she wouldn't be able to see Santa.

  Stopping quickly, she turned and stared straight ahead. She wanted to do this. Wanted to have this stranger ravish her body like it hadn't been done in ages.

  A smile tugged at her lips and she realized just how naughty she could be.

  She noticed movement through her peripheral vision and Noelle quickly glanced up. Santa had left the station and headed toward the car with a plastic bag and a cup of coffee in hand.

  He opened the door and stood in the doorway for a moment. His attention was on something else and a sense of unease washed over her. She followed his gaze toward a man pumping gas into his car. It wasn't him Santa appeared to be staring at. It was the vehicle. Through the dark SUV's windshield, she noticed a man sitting in the passenger seat. He stared at Santa, as though his eyes could shoot fireballs into her handsome lover.

  Something was off about the man. Off about the way he looked at Santa.

  "Come on, Noelle, lets go," he said in a chilly voice.

  She turned back quickly. Santa was already seated and strapped in. The cup of coffee rested in the cup holder and the plastic bag was at his feet.

  Turning the key in the ignition, Santa glanced through her rearview mirror at the stranger in the car. He was gone. The car was gone.

  "Who was the guy back there?"

  "Just someone I used to know." He didn't say more. And she didn't push. Santa exhaled audibly as though letting go of the tension and the air around them seemed to lighten.

  Noelle pulled out of the gas station and drove toward the hotel. Her gaze shifted toward the coffee cup in the cup holder. Her mouth grew dry. "You could have at least gotten me a cup."

  He smiled at her. "I don't drink coffee. This is for you."

  She almost spilled some in her rush to take a big gulp. The liquid on her tongue was rich and creamy and hot, and much better than any gas station coffee she's ever had. The taste of white chocolate and peppermint mingled together and she sighed.

  "You said you like peppermint." There was a glint in his eyes when he said it. She wondered why. What was it about her love of peppermint that seemed to turn him on?

  She pulled into the hotel parking lot and killed the car. The wind howled outside and her car rocked from side to side. She glanced at Santa. He sat, shirtless, his muscled chest begging for her fingers to touch and explore all the ridges.

  He had to be cold. Well of course. She did wear his sweater. Noelle pulled the red garment over her head and handed it to him.

  His gaze at her asked a silent question.

  "I don't want you to get cold."

  Santa undid his seatbelt. "What about you? Aren't you going to be cold?" He leaned toward her and his mouth hovered over hers. He didn't lean in for the kiss. She didn't lean forward.

  His hand cupped her breast again and she gasped at the contact. It didn't feel like a layer of fabric separated them. The touch was flesh on flesh and she glanced down. Her breast was free from the bra and dress. The pink nipple was visible. Santa took the little bud and rubbed it between thumb and forefinger. Sensations swirled through her, going down her spine and into her pussy. She creamed inside and made an effort to keep her legs closed together at the fear that her juices would run down her thighs.

  Santa leaned down and ran his tongue over her nipple. She squirmed in her seat and gasped at the pleasure as he lightly took it between his teeth and flipped his tongue over it in several quick lashes.

  Desire washed over her and she rolled her hips, as though they searched for more.

  She wanted to be naked. Wanted to have him be naked.

  What the hell were they doing?

  Her gaze connected with the building before her and she pushed Santa away. "Let's go." She spoke the words but they didn't sound like her own voice. There was arousal and need in her tone, and for a second, she thought it sounded like a phone sex ad.

  Reaching behind her, Noelle grabbed her purse and the thick winter coat she had on the back seat. After she was covered, and Santa had put his sweater back on, they both climbed out of the car and went into the hotel.

  She tried to walk at a normal speed, but she almost ran toward the building, as though every second counted and she needed him inside her now.

  After checking in, they went upstairs and found their room.

  It was a modest room with a large bed, a decent TV
, and a small bathroom with a large bathtub taking up half the room.

  The curtains on the windows were thick and drawn shut, giving the room a night-like darkness. The lights from the lamps did little to provide light, but they did cast shadows over them, almost like a candle. There was an element of romance in the room.

  Santa rested the bag and her cup of coffee on the dresser as he shut the door behind them and locked it.

  Within seconds he was by her. His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her to him. His lips crashed over hers.

  She tasted desire and need swirl through them and a moan left her lips and into his mouth. Their tongues danced, their mating heightening the pleasure between them.

  Noelle pulled away quickly as she shed her coat and tossed it on a nearby armchair.

  Her fingers gripped the hem of Santa's sweater and she pulled it over his head, tossing it beside her own discarded garment. His chest was warm to her touch, the muscles hard. She leaned in and kissed his collarbone, his chest, the area over his heart.

  His heartbeat vibrated thought her lips and for a second, she wondered if her own was beating too fast.

  Santa turned her around, and they both stood facing the mirror on the dresser. His hands touched her shoulders, her arms, and she watched as his fingertips grazed over her skin.

  She gazed at her own face and saw her visible arousal.

  Santa touched her hair, pulling out the scrunchy from the ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her hair came loose, fanned around her face. The blonde tendrils glowed in the soft lamplight, the locks illuminating around her like a golden halo.

  Her eyes seemed to take on a darker blue than was natural for her. Her lips swollen from his heated kiss earlier, face flushed with desire.

  His fingers trailed over her shoulders and down her neck, past the top of her dress. Her skin tickled and tingled and she needed more. Taking a step back, she collided with his chest. Something hard pressed against her buttocks and she rubbed at his package.

  He groaned and grabbed her hips as though to still her.

  "You want me, bad boy?"