by Deanna Wadsworth
If you have had the joy of reading my Naughty North Pole books, than you are familiar with all three of these characters—Santa, Ms. Claus, and Jack Frost. Ever wonder who cooks the turkey in the North Pole on Thanksgiving?
“Can you please do this for me, Jack?”
I let out a forced sigh and relented. “Fine, I’ll play nice, but if my sister starts dancing naked around the table, that’s on you.”
“Do you think she’ll do that?”
I eyed my partner, my boyfriend, the love of my life—whatever the fuck you wanted to call him. Most people call him Santa Claus but I call him Nicky. “Well, she is Mother Nature, but don’t worry, the autumnal equinox already passed, so no. But we’re not inviting her for Christmas. You don’t wanna see the weird shit she does for Saturnalia.”
Nick chuckled, his face brightening. His blond hair and Nordic features were a far cry from the fat Coca-Cola Santa the humans knew and loved. Despite being the source of all things cold and wintery on the inside, I melted a little watching him fuss about the kitchen for our first family Thanksgiving. I still couldn’t believe we were really together, a couple, rusticating up in the North Pole like a couple of newlyweds.
Hell, the whole supernatural world couldn’t believe it.
Jack Frost and Santa Claus together at last.
I just hoped we’d still be on speaking terms after our families piled around a table heaped with carbs and a dead bird with even more carbs shoved up its ass. I glanced around the kitchen. Every pot we owned was in use and Nick—totally in his element—whistled while he worked on a meal he’d been planning for months.
“Are you whistling Here Comes Santa Claus?” I demanded when I recognized the tune.
A wicked grin slashed across his face, and his blue eyes actually twinkled with mischief. “Just putting in a request for later tonight after everyone leaves.” He gave me a quick kiss that lingered just long enough to catch the attention of everything below my waist.
Grinning and knowing full well what he did to me, Nick went back to stirring some sort of sauce on the stove that smelled delicious.
But not as delicious as he did.
Coming up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and fit my cock snug against his ass. I humped his sweet bubble butt—the only thing round on the guy—and nibbled on his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “Here comes Santa Claus,” I promised, reaching down to give his north pole a stroke.
Laughing, he squirmed out of my embrace pushed me away. He pointed at me with his spoon, smiling but serious. “No, you behave. Just go chill the salad bowls for me, Mr. Frost.”
“I’d rather toss your salad.” I delivered a hard smack on his ass and he yelped. Grinning because I knew he liked it, I headed over to do as he asked. I never could say no to Nick.
“Oh, get a room,” a feminine voice dripping with sarcasm groaned. Frieda, Nick’s twin sister, joined us in the kitchen.
“Nah, I should fuck him right in the kitchen. You know you wanna watch, Freaky Frieda,” I quipped.
The gorgeous blonde put both hands on her curvy hips. “Eeew! He’s my brother.”
“But I’m not. You know you dream about this.” I groped my dick, giving it a good rearranging in my jeans after Nick got it halfway-to-hard with that delectable ass of his.
I threw back my head and laughed. While Nick was the ooey-gooey romantic type, his twin sis was all sharp wit with an even sharper tongue. Though I gave her shit, I was crazy about her. She was cool and nothing like my nuttier than fruitcake sister.
“Isn’t there an elf somewhere who should be shoving his dick in that gaping hole you call a mouth?” I traced my finger around the rims of the salad plates until they were chilled, but not frosted.
“Fuck you, Jack,” she said with no malice in her voice at all. She joined her brother at the stove and plucked a piece of stuffing from a dish. “Mmm, this is good.”
“Would you two play nice?” Nick scolded. “And use a spoon, at least, Frieda.”
She took another piece with her fingers. “We are playing nice. Do you want us to pretend to be other people for this stupid family Thanksgiving we all know is gonna be a disaster?”
“It’s not stupid nor is it going to be a disaster,” he countered and I wisely kept my mouth shut. “And yes, can you both pretend to be civilized people?”
I met Frieda’s gaze and shrugged. “I think I can do that for an hour. But if Thor starts talking about whacking things with his hammer, you know I won’t be able to help myself. That guy makes it too easy.”
Frieda snorted in disgust and tried to steal more stuffing. Nick swatted at her hand with the spoon but she dodged it. “I can’t stand Thor. Why did you have to invite him?”
“Because he’s family.” He scooped stuffing into a bowl and handed it to her. “And you only hate Thor because Grampa Odin lets him use the beach house in Tahiti whenever he wants and you only get to use it if you’re being supervised.”
“It wasn’t my fault Jimmy Hoffa fell off the yacht. There were a lot of cocktails involved,” she argued. “When is everybody gonna let it go?”
“You fucked Jimmy Hoffa? You dirty slut!” I exclaimed, accidentally freezing a plate in my shock. When the plate cracked Nick threw up his hands in defeat.
“Really, Jack?” He ran a hand over his face in a miserable gesture and I suddenly felt bad for teasing.
“I never fucked him. That was Kenna. She’s the dirty slut, not me,” Frieda muttered under her breath. The way she stared at the floor and fidgeted told me there was a lot more to the story than she was letting on—and I would find out. But not right now.
Ignoring her, I walked up to Nick and placed my hands on his shoulder, our love warming me on the insides the way it always did when we touched. I looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry about the plate, babe. And it’s gonna be a perfect dinner. You’ve worked hard all day, and everything looks wonderful.”
“I have worked hard,” he said in a tiny voice, almost a whine. His pathetic expression was so damn adorable I hugged him at once. Resting his head on my shoulder, he melted into me with a sigh.
Caressing his broad back, I held him close, loving the feel of his powerful body against mine. “I promise to behave, okay? No eff-bombs, if I can help it. But if your cousin tells that joke about accidentally sitting on his hammer, I can’t make any promises.”
He pulled back, the tension replaced with a smile. “I love you, Jack.”
“Awww, I love you too, Nicky,” I said in a simpering falsetto which couldn’t disguise the deep love I had for him.
I kissed him, slow and thorough, tasting every delicious part of his mouth with my tongue. He moaned into me, hands sliding along my back in a tender caress. My hands found their way to his ass and I pulled our groins together. Nothing in the universe was better than sex with the man I’d waited my whole life for, but our kiss was not sexual, not really. Each touch and press of lips was laden with love and devotion—just like the feast he’d prepared overflowed with love and butter. He’d worked hard to pull all of this together and I would do my best to make sure it was a success. He deserved that. To Nick, nothing was more important than being with those he loved for the holidays.
Losing myself to the kiss and his embrace, I was thankful to be one of the people he loved.
“Ugh!” Frieda cried. “Seriously, get a room!”
If you enjoy sexy, fun Christmas stories, check out the completeseries of Naughty North Pole books at any reputable ebook seller.
You can read Frieda’s story here: MS. CLAUS’S LIST
And right now, Nick and Jack’s love story is only 99 cents! A GIFT FOR SANTA
Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. She has served multiple board positions at her local RWA chapter and with Rainbow Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.