Page 17 of Milking Santa

“I’m guessing Baker feels the same way as you do, and won’t let things like literal tons of snow stop him from getting the woman he loves.”

In disbelief, I rush out of the kitchen. My ankle still hurts, but I don’t care. I get my jacket, I slide on my boots, and I burst out the door.

Baker stands beside his truck, waiting for me.



I step out of the truck, my body aching from all the snow I had to shovel, but as I see her run out to me? It’s all worth it.

“You... you came after me,” she says, her eyes wide.

“I’d be a fool not to.”

“You could have just called.”

“This is not something I’m going to do over the phone, babe.” I sigh, and pull a plastic container out from my truck, the gift that’s been riding shotgun with me.

“What’s that?”

“My apology.” I hand her the container. “I know I came on a little strong yesterday, but I guess I couldn’t help but let my heart flow for you, Cookie. You’re something really special to me.”

“These are...” she says as she fumbles with the container. “Sugar cookies?”

“I made them for you. Despite my name I’ve never been the best baker, but I followed my mother’s recipe closely as I could. They’re imperfect, just like I am, but I hope you’ll enjoy them all the same.”

She lets out a quiet laugh, beaming. “There’s nothing wrong with how you acted yesterday, Baker. You acted honestly, and from the heart. And I had second thoughts, because I’m so young and inexperienced.”

“Here I am, thinking you didn’t want me because you were young and inexperienced, and that you wanted to experience a lot more of the world.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head to drive the point home. “No, what I want is love, Baker. And I think I just may have found it with you.”

The weight lifts off my heart as I take her into my arms. “Me making assumptions, you being uncertain... we’re both a tad silly, aren’t we?”

“I’m named Cookie Crumble, and you’re named Baker Burns. I think we have no choice but to be a little silly, Baker.”

Instinct takes advantage of both of us as she places the cookies on the hood of my truck, her hands having something else they’d rather do at the moment. She throws her arms around my neck and we’re gazing into one another's eyes, and it’s only natural for a kiss to follow. It’s powerful, potent, our tongues meeting, and electricity sparks between the two of us.

She blushes as I look over and see her brothers and father peering through the window, watching us.

She leans into me and whispers, “I want you to eat my cookie, Baker. And I want your milk too.”

I let out a deep laugh. “Then I think it’ll be best if you spend Christmas with me, babe.”

She flashes a glance toward her family. I think she’s communicating her intentions loud and clear, and they seem like smart enough folks to understand. She grabs the container full of cookies and rushes over to the passenger side of the truck.

I get back in and rev the engine, and we head down the hill and through the snow-covered streets of Linesworth. The whole time she's nibbling on her lip, looking at me, barely holding herself back. She’s not a teenager anymore, but damn if she doesn’t seem to have the libido of one.

Arriving at my home, we pull up the path I shoveled out earlier. She’s still favoring her ankle as she moves, but I’m quick to sweep her off her feet.

“Gotta keep you off that or it won’t heal,” I say to her.

“Sorry, my mind isn’t focused on my health at the moment, I’m a bit preoccupied with something else.”

I know exactly what she means.

We get in out of the cold, and she sets down the container of cookies, bringing it back to where it started in the first place. She’s munching on one of them, that eternal smile glued to her face as I sweep her up again and set her down on the sofa.

“This cookie is really good – don’t knock your baking ability... uh... Baker.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

As she takes the last bite, though, she grabs my belt buckle. “I think they need some milk to go with them though.”

“Do they now?”

“Where better to get it than straight from the source?” She’s insatiable, and I fucking love it.

I love her.

The belt flies off, the button of my jeans is popped as she pulls them down my legs, and my boxers don’t last much longer. My cock gets erect at the mere thought of her at this point, so I’m already more than ready for her, her fingers quickly running down my length and igniting such wonderful feelings within me.

Tags: Frankie Love Erotic
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