Naughty or Nice (Wintermore #1)

by Sophie Snow

What is happening to me? What is this? There’s not a chance in the world that I’m attracted to this man in a Santa suit.

her energy is captivating, and the kids love it; she’s bright but deep, intense but fun. Like a song you find stuck in your head at all hours of the day, and you just can’t quite put your finger on why it consumes you so much.

“Please let me help, sugar.” Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly for a second before she narrows them. “Does that work for you?” “What?” “Saying ‘sugar’ in that Texas drawl of yours to get people to do what you want.”

I can’t even wrap my head around the fact we’re doing this. I’m here, in Wintermore, with Noelle’s uncle’s tongue in my mouth. He’s dressed like fucking Santa Claus, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

“God,” I whimper against his lips. Henry chuckles, his soft beard and mustache tickling my sensitive skin. “Santa’s just fine, baby.” Holy shit. “Santa,” I whisper, and Henry groans.

My body listens, even though my brain is telling me this is a terrible idea if I want to walk at any point over the next three to five business days.

I can’t get hooked on this. I can’t get hooked on him. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could.

I love taking pictures of kids. They usually don’t have the same hang-ups about the camera that adults do, and I love seeing their personalities shine through in pictures. They just need to feel heard.

“You’re making it difficult for me to do the things I should and not the things I want to. It’s a problem for me.”

I’m jealous of the hostess. And for what? Because she smiled at a man I barely know? Because she’s smiley and works in a Christmas restaurant, and is so much better suited to a man like Henry than me—someone who hates his favorite thing and never smiles?

Trying to explain the concept of Animal Crossing to someone who hasn’t played a video game in twenty years goes about as well as expected. I pull out my Switch and show Henry my island while we wait for dessert and, once he sees it, he’s immediately intrigued. I’m not surprised; he’s exactly the kind of person I’d expect to be into cozy games.

God, let her be the death of me. It would be a fucking honor.

“It’s quite the coincidence, is all. November twenty-third, twenty-eight years ago—the first time you saw the aurora, and the day I was born.” There’s no way. “Are you fucking with me?” “Nope,” Rora replies, shaking her head and fighting a laugh at the shock I can feel written all over my face. Better shock than everything else I’m feeling; my mind screams at me that there’s been a thread of fate tying us together all this time. A cruel fucking thread, all things considered.

“Do you have a place like this? Somewhere you can just be?” I can see it on my face on the tiny screen; I found it. And it turns out it’s not a place after all. It’s her.

As much as I love running it, my mouth is on the smaller side.

Same 😹

I’ve never really understood the hype around oral, giving or receiving. Henry quickly made me understand the receiving hype, but watching him struggle to keep it together, trying not to lose control, fist my hair, and take over? Oh yeah, I get the giving hype now.

I change into one of the t-shirts he left behind in Wintermore for me. They don’t smell like him anymore, but I may or may not have made a concoction out of a bunch of Bath & Bodyworks Christmas body sprays until I found something that somewhat resembles Henry’s scent: pine, chocolate, candy cane, and cinnamon. I spray it on my pillow every night, which is arguably one of the most insane things I’ve ever done. But Henry bought several bottles of my favorite lotion before he left because he said he’d miss how I smelled, and I’ve watched him use said lotion to get off every couple of days since, so at least we’re on the same level of unhinged.

“A breeding kink, huh? Interesting…” Rora lies back, her eyes blazing as she spreads her legs. She trails a finger down her stomach. “If you want to practice putting a baby in me, you better fill me up even more. I want to be dripping with you.”

“How does the saying go again? Wear the hat, ride Santa?” Holy fucking shit.

“When you love someone like we love each other, dreams are a shared thing, and it doesn’t feel like you’re losing anything when you leave things behind to watch the person you love live their dreams.”