Christmas Scene by Dylan Allen

Lucia Vega is on a winning streak.
Her book, Throw Away the Key has taken the country by storm.
And now it’s being made into a movie.
After years of chasing it, she can finally taste freedom.

Reece Carras is one of the most powerful men in Hollywood.
Handsome, rich and generous, he’s everything girls like her aren’t supposed to dream of.
But dream she does. And in his strong arms she finds a freedom she never even knew existed.
Falling in love was the easy part…
Cruel twists of fate and torn loyalties will make staying together seem impossible.
Sacrifices will have to be made.
And they will learn that blood may be thicker than water,
but nothing is more powerful than two hearts that beat for each other.

Christmas Scene 

First Christmas

©2017 Dylan Allen

A Thicker Than Water Short Story.

“Reece, come help me, please.” Lucia calls.  Her annoyance rings clear, but it’s tempered with excitement and a wide smile stretches across my face when I hear it.

I take one last look in the mirror before I stroll to the other side of the house to our little conservatory.  She calls it our “Holiday Central.” It’s bursting with decorations, a cranberry and mint candle has been burning there every day for the last week, and our Christmas tree has so many decorations, it’s threatening to collapse under the weight.  And she’s still not done. It’s Christmas Eve and she’s in a last-minute decorating frenzy.

As I approach, I can hear her Vanessa Williams holiday album that’s been on repeat since yesterday blaring from the speakers she’s set up all over the room.

I’ve let her think that I don’t really care about all the fuss. I’ve been ambivalent about all the holiday decorations and told her that I wanted a quiet, low key Christmas.

“You’re the Grinch who killed my Christmas vibe.” She’d said to me last night when she asked me what color lights she should put on the mantle and I’d told her “Blue.”

I’d only laughed and pretended to be absorbed in my work.  She thinks I’ve hired someone to cook our Christmas dinner and that her mother’s coming over with some friends she’s made in her subdivision.  But none of that is true. I’m just determined to make this Christmas, our first one together, unforgettable.

I asked Lucia to marry me almost a year ago and we’re yet to set a date.  She changed the subject every time I bring it up and I’d started to think she was getting cold feet.

Until she finally admitted that she wants to get married in California, because all of her friends are there. Mainly her friend Jessica. She’s s also undocumented and can’t leave the country.

So, we’re waiting for her visitor’s visa to be approved to have our white wedding.  That could take another year.  I’m not waiting that long to make this woman my wife.                                             “Reece–” She screams again, but this time, stops because she hears my footfalls as I approach.  “Thank you for dragging yourself all the way over here, your Royal Scroogeness,” she grumbles, her back to me as she walks back to the ladder.  Her perfectly round, denim clad ass sways temptingly in my direction and I want to skip what I’ve got planned.  Just grab her, strip her and then fuck her until our guests arrive.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing, and sigh. “I’m here. What’s up?”

“I’m trying to hang this garland and even with the ladder I can’t reach. Can you help me?” She says as she picks up the garland and examines it.

“Ask nicely.” I drawl and she whips around, ready to curse me out, her eyes narrow slits. Until she sees me and then her open mouth falls, her eyes widen and she turns her whole body around to face me.

“You like?” I ask, pulling my Santa Hat so it sits at a jaunty angle.  My red Santa pants are held up with suspenders that lay across my bare chest and shoulders.

“Oh my God. Reece. What in the world are you wearing?” She asks through a guffaw.

“Merry Christmas, Fifty-five.  I’m here to find out if you’ve been naughty or nice.”I say in a low, gruff voice, doing my best to imitate Santa.

Her expression changes from surprise to delight and she drops the garland, a slow sexy smile stretching across her beautiful mouth.  “Oh, Santa…I’ve been such a bad girl.” She purrs as she starts toward me.

“Have you?” I drop down onto our sofa and sit with my legs spread, letting her see the outline of my erect cock pressing against the bright red fabric.  “In that case, come sit here and let me show you how I’m going to reward you.”

“Reward me?” She asks, her eyes wide with mock innocence.

“Oh, yes. Naughty girls get all the treats in this Santa’s workshop. Now, come here.” I crook a beckoning finger at her.

She steps out of her shoes and pulls her white t-shirt over her head at the same time.  My woman is always up for these games and I love it.

My eyes light up at the sight of the bright red bra, she’s wearing with green lacy leaves over each nipple.

She smiles at me seductively, and runs her fingers over the swell of her breasts, “Do you like this?”

I give her quick nod and then order, “Take it off.”

I pull my cock out and start to stroke myself.  My mouth waters when her bra falls to the floor.  She stands in front of me, watching my hand, her tongue sweeping back and forth over her lower lip.  She unbuttons her jeans and, pulling her panties down at the same time, steps out of them.

“Santa, can I have my present now?” she asks, her voice thick with desire

“Yes. You can have anything you want.”  I growl.

She stands over me, straddling me and my hand comes leaves my cock and slides up her thigh until I reach her soft, wet pussy.  She moans as I part her lips and put two fingers inside her.

I close my eyes as her wet heat surrounds my fingers. I pump in and out and a few times, loving how her hands grip my shoulders for support before when I my thumb swirls over her clit.
“You like that, don’t you?”  I ask her, feeling the gush of wetness inside of her answering my rhetorical question.

“Oh Reece, so much.” She sighs, her hips moving so that she’s riding my fingers, I insert a third one and she grinds down on my hand.  I need inside of her.

“Sit down.” I grumble.

She lines herself up on my cock and starts to lower herself onto me, the tip of my cock just breaching her when the doorbell rings.

We freeze and my eyes got to the clock on the wall.  “Shit, they’re early.” I whisper in frustration.

“Whose early?” She asks, jumping off me when we hear the beep of the alarm telling us that the front door is open.

Her wide eyes fly to me, only her mother has a key. “Are you expecting my mother?” She asks, picking up her jeans and jamming her legs into them while she hops back to pick up her bra and shirt.

“Reece! Get dressed.” She hisses at me and I look down at myself and snap out of my stupor.

I hear voices singing Hallelujah, the Pentatonix version, and my heart starts to thunder.  Nerves, happiness, trepidation all fueling the gallop of my pulse.

“Oh my God. Who’s with her?” She asks and looks at me, her face a mask of uncertainty and fear. “Reece, what’s going on? Why are you so calm? There are carolers in our house.” The pitch of her voice rising with each sentence, her alarm apparent and growing.
I walk over to the closet and pull out one of the t-shirts I keep in there and throw it on. I look ridiculous in my Santa pants, but right now, it’s the last thing I care about.

“My parents are with her, too.” I say calmly, despite my realization that I hadn’t prepared for her to be anything other than excited about my plan.

“Why? I mean, of course they’re always welcome. But why didn’t you tell me? What is happening?”  She demands, walking over to me, her eyes wide with panic, just as the crowd of people, carolers, my parents, and the officiant I hired all make their way into the room.  Her mother mouths “Sorry,” my father grins proudly, and my mother raises an eyebrow to say “Really, Reece?”

Lucia stares between them and me, utter bafflement on her face.  I drop to one knee in and take her hand in mine.

“Marry me.” I say, my voice gruff and thick with all of the emotions I’m feeling as the singing trails off.

“Reece, you already asked me to marry you and I said yes.” She says slowly, as if she’s talking to someone who’s cognitive abilities might be impaired.  My heart constricts in fear, but I persist.

“I know. And I know you want to wait for California to have a wedding. But I hoped that would agree to marry me today.  Have our wedding later.” As I say it, I realize how presumptuous I’ve been. How this might backfire.

But, her eyes soften as understanding dawns. “Oh, Reece.” She says softly and she kneels in front of me.  “Babe, if I’d known you minded waiting…” Her voice breaks, and she cups my face in her hands and nods. “Of course. Let’s do this. Today.” She presses a kiss to my mouth before she stands up and runs to our parents, throwing her arms around all three of them in a massive group hug.  My mother, the most unwilling participant in all of this, pats her back awkwardly.

“Thank God that didn’t backfire.  And sorry we’re early, but your priest has another appointment and he got the times mixed up. It was now or never.” She says dryly and disengages from Lucia.  She gives the officiant and withering glare. I know he doesn’t speak English, but he can tell she’s not pleased by her tone and her stony expression. and he looks away without saying anything.

“And all of this, is for us? Today?” She sweeps her hand over the choir and the officiant who are standing patiently, watching us.  I love it when she says “us.”

I nod.

She claps her hands together and walks toward me. “Let’s get married, then.” She calls to the rest of the room before she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down so her mouth is on my ear.  “And Merry Christmas, Santa.  I can’t wait to get the rest of my present later.”

I squeeze, saying a silent prayer of thanks that this woman is in my life.  That this complicated, beautiful, whimsical creature who stole my heart takes such good care of it.

“Merry Christmas, Lucia.”

About the Author 

I’m an independent author of contemporary romance novels.
I love staying in touch with readers! You can follow me at all of these places.

➜Follow Dylan on:
Sign up:
Twitter: @dylanallentwrit1
Instagram: @peddlerofpassio


Please follow and like us: