NAUGHTY CAN BE NICE
‘Twas Nice to be Naughty
A bawdy rhyme, by Cynthia Selwyn (with apologies to Clement C. Moore)
‘Twas a few weeks before Christmas
and one night on the couch
only Brenna was stirring; she needed release.
She wished for the Santa she’d seen earlier that day
wearing boots and his hat and ready to play.
All naked and randy, wearing only a bow.
Young, sexy and hot, and ready to go.
When what to her wondering eyes should appear
But that very same Santa, very much bare.
His abs! Oh so tight, and his bod, oh so lean.
Brenna was thankful for such a nice dream.
With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
He let her know he was ready for bed.
His hands were so talented, his mouth was a dream
And Brenna bit her lips to hold back her screams
Santa knew what she needed and just what to do
He fulfilled all her wishes and her fantasies, too.
Because Santa knows when you’re nice
And then when you’re naughty
This night, Brenna was a bad girl and Kris Kringle was bawdy.
But wait, there’s much more; it’s Christmas, after all.
And there’s more to Santa than a good time and balls.
There’s love, there’s redemption and there’s sacrifice.
And Santa is willing to give up his life.
For the dreams of a child and one very dear
Who Brenna loves greatly and holds very near.
Will Santa return to love her again?
You’ll have to read this to find out, in the end…
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 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 Kristoffer Kringle, 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 psy- chopath 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 ex- plained 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 nod- ded.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.
About Cynthia Selwyn:
A trapped-at-home mom of three, freelance fiction editor and romance writer, Cynthia Selwyn has been married to the same man for nearly twenty years. If there’s anything she knows about relationships, it’s that humor can keep the love alive (or at least on life-support).
Cynthia started writing at the age of six and has been writing since then. She writes for Breathless Press, where she hopes to earn enough money in royalties to support her coffee habit. Her goal with each book is to bring a smile to her readers’ faces and love to their hearts, by writing a sexy story with a touch of magic.