Erotic One Shot: A Christmas Stocking to Stuff
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V. J. Villamayor
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"It's Christmas Eve, Carter. I'm single, drunk, snowed in, and I am getting dressed up for the occasion!"
Brokenhearted and newly single, Nova drags her best friend to a snowy mountain getaway. Will the line between best friends grow blurry when they mix too much whisky with thigh high stockings?
A Christmas Cabin
It was Christmas Eve, and Nova was alone in a picture-perfect snowy mountain cabin. This was supposed to be a romantic getaway for her and Paul—her boyfriend.
Well, ex-boyfriend now.
Tears slid down her cheeks as she took another heavy swig of whiskey, letting the burn warm her up from the inside out. The fire crackled, making the whole place feel cozy, but it didn’t do much for her heart.
Two days ago, Paul dumped her.
She still wasn’t sure if she’d been “dumped” or just straight-up “kicked to the curb.” After three years together, he’d waited until the day before their trip to break up with her—over text.
Sorry babe, it’s just not working out. We don’t have anything in common. It’s over. Nova could recite the message by heart now.
It hurt so much.
She didn’t have a ton of relationships to compare this one to, but she’d really thought Paul could’ve been the one. Nova sniffed and wiped away another round of tears, deciding to numb her heart with more whiskey.
“Asshole!” she cried, pouring herself another glass, the amber liquid sloshing everywhere.
After the breakup finally sank in, Nova did what any grown woman would do—she ran straight to her best friend. Carter had been her person since high school, and honestly, he was the standard she measured all her boyfriends against.
When your best friend is smart, kind, caring, and good-looking, it’s hard not to expect the same from everyone else. Carter was always protective of her, always the first to put her boyfriends in their place.
So, it didn’t take much convincing to get Carter to come along instead of Paul.
Carter had been sweet about her crying fits on the drive up, but once they got a quick tour of the snowy mountainside, he decided she needed some “alone time” and practically skipped off to the slopes with his snowboard.
Nova couldn’t blame him.
They both fell in love with snowboarding at the same time, and if her heart wasn’t shattered into a million pieces, she’d be out there racing him down the mountain.
The snow was coming down hard, and as the sun started to dip behind the mountains, Nova thought she felt a little rumble. How much have I had to drink? she wondered.
She’d been keeping herself in a steady state of tipsy, but it was Christmas Eve, so maybe she’d gone a little overboard. She’d come prepared, with a box full of whiskey, rum, and vodka.
She poured herself another whiskey, wondering why she didn’t just drink straight from the bottle. Keeping it classy. She snorted.
Then she felt another rumble, and when she looked down, she saw her whiskey rippling in the glass. Was the ground shaking, or was it just her?
Suddenly, someone started pounding on the front door, and Nova nearly jumped out of her skin. The rumbling got louder, shaking the whole cabin, but her brain was too fuzzy to figure out what was happening.
The door handle rattled, and the pounding got more frantic. “Nova! Open the door! Please! Open the door!”
Carter’s voice was wild with panic, and Nova stumbled off the couch, fumbling with the lock. Carter practically fell inside as soon as she got the door open.
Before she could even shut the door, Nova’s eyes went wide at the sight of a wall of snow barreling toward them. The rumbling was deafening, and that’s when it hit her—an avalanche.
***
“Well… Here I was thinking my Christmas just couldn’t get any worse…,” Nova mumbled into her whiskey.
The avalanche had buried them in, snow piled halfway up the windows, and there was no way out. Someone would probably come looking for them once it was safe, but who knew when that would be.
Nova had picked the most secluded cabin on purpose, so they’d probably be the last ones found.
“Well, I’m here,” Carter said, shrugging and throwing his arm around her shoulders, his thumb tracing lazy circles over her sweater. “That counts for something. At least you’re not alone out here.”
Nova shot him a look, gently pushing his arm away before stumbling toward her room. She didn’t need the furniture for support as much as she had an hour ago, before they were snowed in.
“Where are you going?” Carter called after her.
“It’s fucking Christmas Eve, Carter. I’m single, drunk, snowed in, and I am getting dressed up for the occasion!”
Carter, who’d been catching up to her in the whiskey department after almost getting buried by an avalanche, just laughed and headed to his own room. Their original plan was to get dressed up and go into town, but that was obviously not happening now.
He ditched his loungewear and pulled on his pressed gray slacks, struggling with the buttons on his white dress shirt before giving up halfway—leaving his chest on full display.
“I feel like you would’ve been too cold if we went out with you dressed like that,” Nova laughed from his doorway.
Carter spun around and swore.
Nova was wearing a deep-red velvet dress. The long sleeves hugged her arms, and the neckline dipped low, showing off her breasts—teardrop-shaped and perky enough that it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.
The dress ended mid-thigh, but her legs were covered in black nylon stockings.
Carter’s breath left him in a rush. “You’re one to talk. Fuck me, you look damn delicious.”
Heat sizzled under Carter’s skin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or just her. Nova smirked, never believing him when he complimented her, and nodded toward the living room.
“Shut up. I need another drink. Come on.”
Carter followed, his eyes glued to her legs as she curled up on the couch. “Christ, Nova, were you planning on finding yourself a one-night stand tonight?” he blurted out.
He had a thing for women in stockings—especially thigh highs. Sexy and easy access.
He’d been out with Nova a million times over the years, but whether it was the alcohol, the seclusion, the whole vibe—or just her—he couldn’t keep his eyes in the friendzone anymore.
“Not unless my one-night stand was with one of my sex toys,” Nova slurred, reaching for another drink.
“They’re the only things I can count on, apparently.” She couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.
Usually, she kept things buttoned up around Carter, but tonight—tonight, she just didn’t care.
When she’d booked this getaway for her and Paul, she’d pictured romance, grand gestures, laughter, smiles, and a whole lot of steamy sex.
She was still getting the laughter, but it was with Carter, and the rest of it felt so far away it made her eyes sting.
“Please don’t torture me with that information unless you want me to do something about it,” Carter said, his voice rough and a little strangled.
Nova’s eyes met his over the rim of her glass just as he tipped his head back and poured himself another drink.
“I only have so much self-control before I end up locking myself in my room to take care of things alone.”
Nova let out a weak laugh.
The whiskey was definitely making her feel warm—that’s what she kept telling herself, even though the heat was pooling much lower than her stomach.
“I doubt you’d even want to ‘act on it’ with me, Carter. Don’t be ridiculous… You’re my best friend. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“You doubt me? When you look like that?” He waved a hand at her, from her messy hair all the way down to her toes in stockings.
“All I’d need is a ‘yes’ and I’d be telling you to grab all your toys so I could make you feel better.”
Nova swallowed hard.
Carter was her best friend.
But right now, he was all man, and his eyes were nothing but heat.
“So…if I said yes?”
Her voice was quiet, but Carter heard her.
He tilted his head, studying her. “Is it a yes?”
Nova’s breathing sounded so loud in the silence.
Her heart was racing, her brain caught between say yes! and this is insane!.
She nodded, her eyes dropping to Carter’s bare chest as she nervously bit her bottom lip.
“Yes.”
Carter’s gaze locked onto hers, and she felt like he was seeing straight through her.
The way he looked at her made her toes curl and her cheeks burn.
Part of her didn’t believe he’d actually make a move.
But in the back of her fuzzy mind, she remembered all those lingering stares and hugs that lasted just a little too long.
Carter stood up slowly and leaned over her, his free hand gripping the sofa right by her shoulder.
Her back pressed into the seat as he swirled his whiskey, then held the glass to her lips, gently urging her to drink.
Nova tipped her head back, letting him pour the amber liquid into her mouth.
A little spilled, dripping down her chin, but before she could swallow, Carter set the glass aside and grabbed the back of her hair.
He held her just firmly enough to keep her still, then licked the trail of whiskey from her chin to the corner of her mouth.
His tongue swept across her lips, dipping inside to taste her and the whiskey.
His hand kept her in place as they kissed, and Nova’s brain felt like it was floating.
She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to worry about what it meant to kiss her best friend.
She just wanted to feel, and she kissed him back, hungry for more, tasting the whiskey on his tongue.
An embarrassing moan slipped out when Carter finally pulled her head back.
“You’re not going to regret this in the morning,” he rasped against her neck, his breath hot.
