Since the holiday season is upon us (stop groaning, I’ve got hot man chest and a great excerpt for you) I thought I’d post an excerpt from a great Christmas story. Naughty Can Be Nice, by Cynthia Selwyn
Santa hears all your wishes and makes them come true. Especially when they’re naughty…because naughty can be nice.
Legal guardian Brenna O’Brien didn’t expect to become a single mom, especially of seven-year-old twins with troubles. What she needs is a good dose of sexual pleasure to swipe all her emotional burdens away.
Kris Kringle, Jr. doesn’t want to fill in for his dad. But when he meets a lovely lady at a Christmas party, he changes his mind; he wouldn’t mind filling her…stocking. One wish is all it takes for the sexy Santa she met to appear in her living room, wearing nothing but his boots, his red velvet hat and a silver bow.
Because at Christmas, all heartfelt wishes can come true.
She decided to put on her robe and worry about a shower after she’d checked on the girl. Moments later, she returned to the kitchen to see her dream man—Kris, Gracie had called him—and her niece, eating pancakes at the table.
“Good morning,” he purred, getting to his feet and leaning to kiss her cheek; his scruffy stubble scraped her skin and the warmth of his lips made her face tingle. She shivered as goose bumps patterned her skin and little zings of—desire?—raced through her body. She touched her palm to her cheek and stared up into his blue-ice eyes.
Gracie hopped out of her chair, raced to her, wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed her cheek to Brenna’s belly, distracting her from the sex god standing by her kitchen table.
“Hi, Auntie Brenna. Kris said he’s helping us put up our tree today. He said he’s really good at it.” The little girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Brenna hadn’t seen such joy on her niece’s face since before her parents died. She looked up at Kris. He raised his eyebrows—reddish brown like his scruff.
“It’s true. I am.”
She swallowed. “I need to talk to you a minute. Could you come with me?”
“I already did.” He winked.
It should have annoyed her because it was so inappropriate and cheeky, but all she could do was flush and shiver with recollection and desire. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the living room, where she noticed unmistakably sooty footprints on her beige carpet. “Okay, who are you and what are you doing here?”
“My name is KristofferKringle, and I’m here because you wished me to be,” he said. “Because this year, I’m Santa Claus.”
Brenna shook her head. Had she heard him correctly? Was she still dreaming?
Was she insane? Had she finally snapped? Or was he some psychopath with a Claus complex? “S-S-Santa?”
“You saw my hat, didn’t you? My boots? The way I came down the chimney?”
She looked at the boot prints on the carpet. “Yes, but…”
“Remember? You wished for me.” He shrugged, as if that explained everything. “And here I am.”
But it didn’t make sense. Santa was a myth. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Kris looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. Then he turned and walked to the fireplace, laid his finger to the side of his nose and nodded.
Up the chimney he rose. There was a bang, a crash and a curse; soot poofed from the grate in a great cloud that made Brenna cough. But Kris was gone.
A split second later, he reappeared, walking out of the kitchen as if he’d never vanished up the chimney. His reddish-blond mane was streaked with sticky black creosote, and there was ash smudged on his high cheekbones. He looked like a Viking after the funeral of a friend.
“I hate that. I feel like a shake being sucked through a straw.” He shuddered. “Do you believe in me, now?”
She couldn’t. She didn’t. “I’ve gone crazy.”
Kris stepped closer, reached out and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “No, darling. You haven’t. You and I…we’re meant to be.” With that, he dropped his mouth to hers.