Christmas Pageant (Hot Toddies)

A Christmas Pageant
Sahara Kelly
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2004 by Sahara Kelly
An Authorized Excerpt

The door clanged shut behind them with a solid thunk as they closed themselves off to the rest of the world in his hotel room. Snow hissed against the windows, muffling any sounds from outside. Not that there were many, since this early snowstorm pretty much paralyzed traffic and citizens alike.

It explained why he'd stopped for the night and ended up in her section of the "Boots and Pussy" strip club, but it didn't explain why she'd accepted his invitation to come here with him after her shift. That, she couldn't quite explain. Not even to herself.

Perhaps it had been his smile. Warm, filled with humor and charm, intensified by the deep creases at the corners of each eye. As if he'd squinted at the sun for several years, or laughed a lifetime… either could have been true.

His hazel eyes, maybe… gold in some lights, green in others, always alert, and watching. Observing life and those living it, yet without criticism or complaint -- just observing.

Sure, his body was fine, if the broad shoulders beneath the leather jacket were anything to go by, and the short, short haircut screamed military or ex-military. His habit of calling her "ma'am" when he ordered his beers gave him away too. Not many guys called a woman in a thong, panty hose and a micro tiny bra top "ma'am." But he did, and it delighted her.

When the snowstorm blossomed into its full white intensity and he'd asked about a room for the night, Garvey happily called the motel next door. She suspected he had them on speed dial on the phone behind the bar, and probably got a nice little bonus, but what the hell. That was bartender business.

And she'd been glad of it, since she needed a room too. The hour and a half drive back to her apartment would be sheer hell on a night like this, and she wasn't absolutely sure her little car could manage it. It was one of the reasons she only worked weekends at the club, since her absence during the week might be noticed.

On the weekends, however… there was nobody to care. No husband, no family, no cat, no goldfish, not even a cactus.

She sighed, and then froze as his body brushed her spine and his lips touched her neck.

"Why are you here?" His hands kneaded her shoulders as he asked the question softly.

"I don't know." She stared blindly out of the window into the white void beyond. "I've never done anything like this before."

"I guessed that." His hands eased her jacket from her shoulders and bared her skimpy costume.

"How could you tell?" She glanced down at herself. "Let's face it. I'm dressed like a cheap hooker…" She laughed awkwardly.

"I never judge what's outside. Only what's inside. Life taught me that." The heat of his chest seared her spine and she realized he'd removed his shirt a scant moment before she saw his reflection in the window, standing tall behind her.

"And how do you know what's on the inside?" She turned toward him, letting the sequins on her costume drag across the hairs on his chest. Daringly, she raised her gaze to his, staring right into those lovely hazel eyes. "What do you see in me?"

His smile was slow and sensual. "Me."

His lips met hers in a fiery clash that could've melted the snow falling so thickly outside their room.

Joanna surrendered and kissed him back with every bit of passion she'd buried inside for too many years.

For Staff Sergeant Martin Todd, this particular moment with this particular woman was… unique. She was a stranger, yet fit into his arms like she'd been there forever. Her lips, her skin, her hair… all felt natural and comfortable to him, as if he'd come home at last.

After the year of physical therapy and the three years behind the desk in Washington, he was frustrated, angry and ready to quit. To leave the service and his past behind -- but for what he didn't know. Until now.

Until a snowstorm stranded him in a seedy strip joint, and handed over the woman of his dreams.

She'd smiled at him over a tray full of beers and two of the best looking breasts in the place. They were her own too, he'd bet a month's salary on that fact. And he'd been completely entranced, watching her curvy ass as she deftly served drinks to the few other patrons. She'd joked with the stripper working the pole, taken a couple of phone calls when the bartender had been busy, and surreptitiously stretched her feet when she thought no one was looking. Her black hair tumbled every which way, but she'd ignored it, much as she'd ignored the couple of come-ons she'd gotten from customers. Just another nuisance.

The military hadn't trained Marty to be whimsical, but he was struck with the notion that she had a sort of glow around her, making her unique… different from the other girls.

And he'd known she'd noticed him.

Every now and again she'd flash a sideways glance in his direction -- nothing too direct, but like she was checking him out, perhaps. Sizing him up, making a decision -- whatever it was, Marty knew he wanted it to be in his favor. And he poured every ounce of charm he had into his smile.

It had worked.

Isolated by the snowstorm, they were alone together in his room, skin to skin, mouth to mouth and now -- tongue to tongue.

She tasted of chocolate and strawberries, something sweet and wholesome, at odds with the miniscule cocktail waitress costume barely hiding her curves. Her heat filled his hands and her body pressed wantonly against his as their tongues dueled. In and out, and in once more, a parody of the act to follow, but a precursor of the pleasures they would share.

Marty's cock hardened rapidly, straining at the front of his jeans in its hunger to reach the treasures beneath the tight shorts only inches away.

"Joey…"

Her nametag said "Joey." She didn't really look like a Joey, but he didn't want to pry. Not yet. The time would come when she would reveal her secrets, both physical and spiritual. He would know all there was to know about this woman before the night was over.

But right now, kissing was the order of the day.

He stepped backwards, resting up against the door and pulled her with him. She leaned into his body, keeping her mouth glued to his.

He swiveled, reversing their positions. Now she was imprisoned between him and the door. Marty slowly raised their interlaced hands, trapping her arms above her head.

Her breasts thrust against him and he sighed against her tongue as his hips forced a place between her thighs and he ground his cock against her pussy.

She moaned back, fidgeting until she got his length where she wanted it. Marty swore the heat of her cunt burned through his jeans and branded his cock. She was on fire, and he desperately wanted to play fireman and whip out his hose.

Of course, that would involve letting go of her wrists, and probably stopping the kissing. Neither of which he was inclined to do. After all, they were in no hurry. He pushed even harder, loving the way her body molded to his, responsive and soft, opening to him, parting for him, welcoming him.

He tore his mouth from hers to say her name once more… for no other reason than he liked the sound of it. "Joey."

"Yes, Martin, oh God -- yes." Her teeth grazed his neck as she spoke and her tongue followed, tasting him.

He moved his head giving her access to all the places she seemed desperate to nibble, leaning hard against her, loving the way her breasts swelled between them.

He thought for a moment, then pulled her wrists together, holding them secure with one hand. With the other he unfastened her bra and tore it away from her.

"Aaaah. Better."

Her breasts still swelled, but now there was nothing to stop the taut nipples from grazing his skin, or the hardness of his chest from crushing them as he claimed her mouth once more. And his free hand could travel into the small space behind her, pushing her against him -- right there.

He groaned with pleasure.

And so did she.