On the First Day of December…

A few stops later, Santa passed Jodi a big thermos flask. “This place is massive. I’ll be gone a while. Help yourself to this. It’s Christmas spirit. I get so much left out for me, I can’t drink it all. So I save it up in here. It’s a good brew but strong. Oh and if you like.” Santa flicked down a little door, like a glove compartment just in front of Mike. “In there is a plate of cookies. I get lots of those, too. Oh, but just look out for the really homemade-looking ones. The little children make them themselves, and they’re cute but rarely tasty.”

He chuckled again and leapt off onto the snow-covered turret of the European-looking castle below.

“Any idea where the hell we are?” Jodi chirruped with a lighter soul than she’d had in a long time.

“Not a bleeding clue,” Mike replied also feeling the strange, light-hearted soul business and resigned to enjoying it to the fullest. They both collapsed laughing then Jodi unscrewed the cap of the old, red tartan-patterned flask.

She inhaled and moaned, “That smells so good.” She moved in closer to Mike, his body pressed up along her arm. “Smell,” she commanded. He slipped his nose just above the flask opening and moaned softly, too. “It smells so sweet and…and good.” He could think of no other way to say it. Jodi poured a large drop into the flask lid and offered it to Mike, who offered it back to her for the first sip.

He watched her thin but sensual lips as they clasped the edge of the plastic cup and observed the way her eyes closed in enjoyment as the liquid coursed down her throat. He felt the stirrings of arousal in the pit of his stomach. A moment later, he realised why she looked so happy in that moment. Drinking from Santa’s flask was like drinking liquid joy.

A pleasured growl fell from his lips. “So good,” he gasped.

Jodi nodded and giggled. The small sip of Christmas Spirit went straight to her head and, unexpectedly, to her pelvis, too. Jodi was not usually a particularly sensual woman. She had never understood the attraction of touch and closeness. She’d always recoiled from the touch of her mother, the touch of strangers felt alien and uncomfortable to her, and she’d never had any other touching experience. But at that moment, she craved touch. She wanted something she wasn’t sure about, but she knew she had to feel Mike’s touch—everywhere.

The Christmas spirit worked in a similar way with Mike. He felt stirrings he’d not experienced in a long time. A childhood full of abuse put him off sex. In his mind, it was a dirty, degrading act used to wield power over someone smaller and weaker. He had been subjected to sexual abuse from a man, but it had put him off all kinds of sexual activity since.

However, he found he was feeling something, a stirring, a gentle warming of want. “That’s potent stuff.” He coughed and reached into the glove compartment for a cookie.

At the same second, Jodi did the same thing, and their heads met with a soft thud.

“Sorry,” Jodi apologised and moved her head against his until they were face to face.

She’d really meant to move away and disengage then carry on and pick up that cookie, but magically, her lips met his, and all she could feel was him. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer. Gently, he cradled her to his chest. His lips danced tentatively on hers with such grace and lightness it made her feel dizzy with new, powerful emotions.

“Err hmm!”

A Santa-sized cough barked from the side of the sleigh, and the newly lip-locked lovers part well, their lips did at least. Mike kept an arm around Jodi’s waist to keep her close to him. That touch was too important to be lost. He needed to feel that connection, the reminder of that kiss.Dear God, that kiss had been perfect, just so perfect. It was like snow on Christmas morning or the feeling you get when you open the wrapping on that gift you never knew you wanted but is exactly the right one for you.