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  • Writer's pictureAuthor K.L. Hall

Moonlight & Mistletoe

© K.L. Hall and, 2020. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to K.L. Hall andwww.authorklhall.comwith appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

(WARNING: Contains explicit language and adult themes suitable for ages 16+)

It was the time of year where the days were shorter and the nights grew longer. The holiday season had made its way around once more, filling the city with bright twinkling lights and warm Christmas melodies blaring within a three-mile radius of the next. Yet, an irritated Aris found herself lugging her two-ton suitcase down the hallway to her apartment door with her phone pressed against her ear.

“I know tomorrow is Christmas Eve, but there aren’t any more available flights?” she asked.

“For the fourth time, ma’am, no there aren’t any flights going out for the next few days due to the snowstorm,” the airline customer service rep told her.

“Can you please just check again? Have a heart, it’s almost Christmas!” she pleaded.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas, I’m a Jehovah’s Witness,” he snorted.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Thanks for nothing,” she said and hung up.

The heat roared in the background as she pushed the door open and tossed her jingling keys on the table beside her front door. She slid off her snow-dusted Ugg Boots and sighed. Aggravated wasn’t the word. Aris was pissed. All modes of transportation had been canceled due to the snowstorm raging outside her window. She had to face the fact that she’d be spending Christmas alone. As a mental health case manager, she knew the holidays could take a toll on one’s mental health. She’d saved up enough PTO to take off an entire week and was looking forward to heading home for the holidays to see her family. Her hometown right outside of Boston was only an hour flight and a five-hour drive, but the roads were practically already covered with sheets of snow.

She glanced over at her suitcase resting by the door, mentally not in the mood to unpack a damn thing. “Well, if I can’t go to Christmas, I’ll just have to bring Christmas here,” she asserted.

Once she’d showered off the airport stench and changed into her PJs, she peeked through her blinds. The snow was still falling steadily, slowly burying her car as the wind blew clouds of tiny flakes against the window. She scooped her phone off the edge of the bed and headed into the kitchen to make her favorite Christmas concoction. One part eggnog, two parts Hennessy, a tablespoon of brown sugar, and a single teaspoon of nutmeg and cinnamon.

Aris took a sip and smiled before plugging in the tabletop Christmas tree that didn’t do much to help illuminate her one-bedroom apartment, but it was the thought that counted. Her phone vibrated right after she took her second gulp. Her eyes lit up with excitement, followed by a stiff frown. She was not in the mood to tell her mother about the last four and a half hours she’d spent in the airport only to end up back at home.

“Ugh, fuck,” she mumbled before pressing accept. “Hey, Mama!”

“The fact that you answered the phone lets me know that you’re not going to make it home for Christmas.”

Aris’s head did a quick bobble. “Nope, everything is canceled. Nothing coming in or going out until this freakish storm is over,” she said, breaking the news.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. We were all looking forward to seeing you.”

She sucked her teeth. “I know. I was looking forward to seeing everyone too. Tell Desmond and Kiara I got the card and the cute pictures of the kids. They are getting so big now!”

“They looked so cute in their matching Christmas PJs, didn’t they?” Her mother agreed.

“Yeah, they did. How's Daddy doing?”

“You know your father, he’s always busy trying to take care of everyone else, just like you.”

She nodded. “I guess I have it honest.”

“You sure do. When do you go back to work?”

“I have a whole week off. Hopefully, this snow doesn’t keep me trapped in the house the entire time.”

“Do you have enough food stashed? What about batteries for your flashlight and candles just in case the power goes out?” Her mother probed.

Aris smiled a lopsided grin. She had batteries, they just weren’t in her flashlight. “Yeah, I’ll be good, Mama. I’m about to see if I can get a delivery order in real quick before everything in the whole city shuts down.”

“Okay, well make sure your phone is charged and that you’ve got enough blankets just in case. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

Aris appreciated the fact that her mother’s level of concern hadn’t changed although the number of miles that separated them were plentiful. “Okay, Mama. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Try and relax, okay? You deserve a break.”

“I will, Mama. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She ended the call and walked over to the couch while pulling up her favorite restaurant on DoorDash to put in a quick order. If she couldn’t spend Christmas with her family, at least she could stuff her face with food while baking Snickerdoodles and immersing herself in every Christmas movie the Hallmark channel had to offer. She smiled as soon as she was notified her order was confirmed by the restaurant. Aris wasted no time snuggling up on the couch underneath her plush throw blanket. Her mother was right, she needed the break. Her job was taxing, to say the least. She could honestly say it wasn’t what she thought it would be when she first started. Day in and day out, she poured herself into her work, trying to ensure her clients were as mentally stable as they could be when it came time for them to reenter the real world. Yet, it seemed like most of them couldn’t care less. Aris had spent the majority of her life taking care of others, it wasn’t as if it was something she didn’t enjoy, but it would’ve been nice to be on the receiving end once in a while. Those thoughts made her question if she was she was truly happy with the life she was living. There was no doubt that she needed something to take her life in a spontaneous new direction. Relaxation was at the top of her Christmas list, but it wasn’t all she needed. She knew beggars couldn’t be choosy, but she wouldn’t complain if Santa tossed some good wood her way for Christmas. She’d done more than her share of good deeds that year.

Once Aris hit play on the holiday playlist she’d originally curated for her family, she put the first batch of cookies into the oven. She was determined to turn her apartment into a mini Christmas miracle while she waited on her dinner.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful. And since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

FORTY MINUTES LATER, she heard a knock on her door. Knowing it was her food, she skipped over to the door and swung it open. To her surprise, her eyes zeroed in on a man standing there with her food in hand.

“I got a delivery for, uh, somebody named Aris,” he said, staring at the receipt stapled to the bag with her name on it.

Her eyebrows knitted. “I thought this was supposed to be a contactless delivery.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what I put in the app. You don’t even have a mask on!” She said, folding her arms across her chest.

He stared at her blankly while chewing the inside of his lip. “Oh, uh. My fault,” he said, taking a few steps back.

Aris’s eyes rolled. “Whatever, just put it down and I’ll grab it.”

She watched him put her bagged dinner at her feet and step back. He didn’t look like what she expected him to. Not that anyone named Muhammad had to look a certain way, but she was presently surprised, to say the least. The first thing she noticed was the multiple tattoos he had on his honey-brown face. There were names written in script on each temple, a Chinese symbol beside his left eye, and a cross in his right ear. His six-foot-five stature easily towered over Aris’s five-foot-five frame, making her feel tiny. His athletic build made it easy to see he had muscles even through the bulkiness of his winter coat. His full beard, mustache, and goatee made him a triple threat. The only thing she wasn’t too fond of was the six straight back medium-sized cornrows he was rockin’ as if it was 2002.

“Thank you,” she said in a softer tone.

His head tipped forward in a nod. “No problem...”

As easy as it should’ve been for her to turn and shut the door in his face, give him a 2-star rating and return to her Christmas vibe, it wasn’t. “It’s uh, really coming down out there, huh?” she asked, noticing the globs of snow that hadn’t managed to melt off his Timberland boots.

“Yeah, it is…”

Silence hung in between them like popcorn on a string. One thing Aris hated was the fact that she could easily read people. It wasn’t hard for her to tell that his minimal holiday spirit was completely broken just by looking in his murky brown eyes.

“Yo, is somethin’ burnin’?” He asked, darting his eyes past her.

“Oh shit, the cookies!” She yelled, dropping her dinner and running back into the kitchen.

Muhammad watched her toss the cookie sheet with crispy, burnt lumps on it onto the stovetop. She was waving her potholders in the air to try and prevent the smoke detector from going off. He bent down to pick up her food, making sure not to step over the threshold into her actual apartment. Once Aris was able to get the smoke cleared, she looked back at the doorway and saw him still standing there like an obedient dog. As much as things hadn’t seemed to be going her way, she was suddenly filled to the brim with holiday cheer.

“Uh, do you want to come in for coffee or some hot chocolate to warm up for a bit? I know you basically risked your life coming out here in this weather.”

“Yeah, uh thank you,” he said, stepping inside and taking in his surroundings.

“You can just put the food over on the counter after you take off your shoes,” she said, eyeing his boots once more.

When his shoes were off and the food was on the counter, Muhammad slid off his jacket and the hoodie he was wearing underneath. Aris quickly clenched her thighs together at the sight of him. The simple white tee he was wearing fit as if it had been tailor-made for his body. His muscles bulged in all the right places. She gazed at the print of his puffed chest and washboard abs hiding beneath the layer of clothing closest to his body. Aside from the large rose tattooed on his throat, Muhammad had more tattoos drizzled down both arms, so much that Aris could only imagine where else ink resided on his chiseled body.

“So uh, coffee or hot chocolate?” she asked, snapping herself out of the daze he’d put her in. “I uh, I would offer you a cookie or two, but you see how that turned out.” She chuckled.

“Shit, they still might be edible,” he told her.

Aris eyed him closely as he made his way into her space and picked up one of the severely burnt cookies off the tray. It crumbled within seconds, snapping loudly with every bite.

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better by doing that,” she assured him.

“I’m not,” he told her. “And when you make the hot chocolate, I’ma dip another one in there and the shit is gon’ be lit, trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, grabbing the hot chocolate K-cups from the cabinet.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“What? These?” She asked, pointing to the K-cups in her hand.


“This is how you make hot chocolate. Well, the Keurig does it, for the most part, I just put it in there.” She laughed.

“Nah, that’s not how you do it at all.”

Aris scrunched her nose and arched a questioning eyebrow in his direction. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sayin’ that’s not how you make real hot chocolate.”

“And how exactly do you like your hot chocolate?” she quizzed, unapologetically letting her attitude ring through her tone.

“If you got what I need, I’ll show you because that shit ain’t it,” he said, pointing to the K-cups clutched in her hand.

“What do you need?”

“First off, I need milk. You don’t make real hot chocolate with water.”

“I have milk, what else?” She asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Cocoa powder, sugar, a pot, and some chocolate chips if you got ‘em.”

As annoyed as she was that a stranger was trying to school her on how to make “real” hot chocolate, a part of her was intrigued. She was curious to see what he had up his sleeve. “I think I may have all of those things. Hold up and let me check.”

Muhammad leaned against her kitchen counter while Aris started pulling out the ingredients he’d requested one by one. Once she’d placed everything on the counter in front of him, she stood back to watch him work his magic. He started by pouring the milk in the saucepan and turning on the burner closest to him. Next, he stirred in the cocoa powder and sugar. Once everything was warm, he poured in a handful of chocolate chips and stirred them into the pot until they’d melted into the mix.

“Taste it,” he said, handing her a steaming mug.

She hesitantly reached out and grabbed the mug, eyeing him with suspicion before taking a sip. It was like heaven on her lips. It was the sweetest, creamiest thing she’d ever had in her life. She’d found home and peace of mind in a mug of homemade hot chocolate. “Wow…just wow,” she said with her eyes closed.

“Shit is fire, right?” he asked.

Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “It’s amazing. It’s perfection in a fuckin’ cup!”

“Told you. The secret is in the chocolate chips. Makes that shit extra chocolatey and creamy.”

“I can honestly say this is the first time I think I’ve ever had homemade hot chocolate.”

His head dipped in a quick nod. “Yeah, I ain’t had this shit in years…since I was a kid and shit.”

Aris shot him a sympathetic smile and quickly changed the subject. “This has to be one of the coldest freakin’ days in history, if not THE coldest.”

Muhammad bobbed his head in agreeance. “Hell yeah, it’s cold as fuck outside.”

“You know, it might not look like it in here, but Christmas is usually my favorite time of the year because it’s the only time I get to see my family, but that weather outside is crazy.”

“The whole city is shuttin’ down.”

“Yeah, I know. I should’ve checked the weather sooner. I don’t know who I thought I was thinkin’ I’d be able to hop on a plane and head home this close to Christmas, but as I said, the holidays are the only time I get to see my family.”

“And why is that?” he asked, grabbing another burnt cookie off the sheet and dipping it into his mug.

“My job is pretty demanding.”

“Word? What do you do?”

“Uh, I’m a case manager,” she said, keeping it short. Every time she told someone what she did she could tell they were either immediately bored to death or felt bad for her. He’d already witnessed her burning cookies and schooled her on how to make hot chocolate. She didn’t need any more sympathetic looks from him for the night.

“Yo, your food is probably cold as ice right now,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, it is. For some reason, I’m not even as hungry as I was before. Plus, I wouldn’t feel right eating in front of you.”

“Nah, do your thing. I’m good with what I got right here,” he said, dipping another cookie into his mug.

“Okay, cool. Well, feel free to chill in the living room. I’ll be in there in a second.”

ARIS WALKED INTO the living room with her reheated dinner in hand and sat her food down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Shit, I forgot to grab the fork. I’m gonna get another cup of hot chocolate while I’m in the kitchen. You want a refill too?”

“Yeah, this time spike mine with something strong. Don’t act like I ain’t see that bottle of Henny you got sittin’ over here,” Muhammad told her.

She smiled. “Coming right up.”

Aris grabbed her phone off the coffee table and took it in to the kitchen before spiking their mugs of hot chocolate with a shot of Henny. Her eyes diverted to the cookie sheet as she giggled. He’d eaten half of the burnt cookies as if they were made just the way he liked them.

“What you in there smilin’ about?” he asked.

She looked up and saw him staring back at her. The way his eyes hung onto hers as he spoke was enough to make her palms rain wet. “It’s nothin’.”

“People don’t smile for nothin’ unless they crazy,” he told her.

Aris chuckled. “Nah, I just like to smile and I like to make other people smile. But if you must know, I’m smiling because you literally demolished half of these burnt ass cookies.”

He laughed. “I told you they were fine to me.”

“Well you are welcome to the rest of them,” she said, sneaking a peek out of the kitchen window. The snow had completely covered every square inch of the ground for as far as she could see. “Hey, is that your car?” she asked, pointing to the running car with the windshield wipers going on full blast and headlights barely shining underneath the pile of snow on the hood.

Muhammad walked over and eyed the car she was pointing to. “Nah, that’s not mine.”

“Oh, okay. I bet you can barely see where you parked with all this snow. And I’m sorry if I’m holding you up from delivering other orders, although I don’t really know how you’d do that in this weather.”

“Nah, you were my last stop,” he assured her.

“Oh, okay good.”

Before Muhammad could respond, Aris’s phone began to ring. She reached out and picked up for her co-worker and friend, Yara.

“Hey Ya, what’s up?” she answered.

“Girl! Please tell me you were able to get out of the city before this storm really kicked off.”

Aris sucked her teeth. “Nope, no such luck. I’m back at my place, snowed in for Christmas.”

“As much as that sucks, I know you’re happy you’re not here, especially with everything that’s going on!”

Aris’s perfectly arched eyebrows creased. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“You haven’t seen the news?”

“No. What happened?”

“Oh my God, girl! We’re under a whole fuckin’ lockdown! Three inmates escaped from the fifth ward early this morning! Two guards are dead and everything. They aren’t letting anyone in or out.”

“Oh shit, are you fuckin’ serious? Do you know who they were?”

Yara groaned. “The police are withholding that information right now. They are only referring to them by their inmate numbers.”

“Wow, this is crazy.”

“Crazy as fuck! You know, me being me, I tried to look that shit up, but I don’t even have the right credentials to see that shit. I swear, this is going to be the worst fuckin’ Christmas ever.”

Aris shook her head. She’d only heard stories about the fifth ward but had never once stepped foot on that floor in her seven and a half months of working at the prison. All she knew was it was the floor that housed the majority of the serial killers and mass murderers. She only worked with lower-level offenders who were a year or less away from their potential release dates. “Damn, well just hang in there girl and be careful.”

“I’m safe in here, you be careful out there.”

Aris rolled her eyes at how anxious Yara could be. “Don’t worry about me. Nobody is going to bother me, especially not with the way this snow is coming down.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”

“Just hang in there, okay? And keep me posted. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Um, why you trying to rush me off the phone? You got company or somethin’?” Yara quizzed.

“Mind your business and Merry Christmas!” Aris told her friend before ending the call.

“Everything good?” Muhammad asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just work stuff,” she said, shrugging it off as if it was nothing.

“You said you a case manager and shit? You work with foster kids or somethin’?”

Aris massaged the back of her neck. “No, I uh. I work with adults, but can we not talk about my job right now? I’m trying this whole thing where I’m trying to relax, and talking about work does not make me relax at all. I’m off for an entire week…I just hope I don’t have to spend it trapped in the house,” she groaned.

“Damn, I didn’t think I was such bad company.”

Aris outstretched her arms. “No, you’re not. I promise you’re not.”

“So, you lived here for a minute?” he asked, looking around at the minimal Christmas décor throughout her apartment.

“In this apartment or the city?”

“Both I guess. I know you said you like to visit your family, so I figured you weren’t from around here.”

“Yeah, I’m not. My hometown is further north, about a five-hour drive from here,” she informed him.

He nodded. “Bet. You live alone? I don’t want no nigga bustin’ up in here on me for spendin’ time with his lady.”

Aris let out a light chuckle. “If that’s your way of trying to subtly figure out if I’m single or not, the answer is yes, I am.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips while he stroked a hand down his beard. “Damn, you caught me red-handed.”

Unable to pick up the conversation where he’d left it, Aris was hit with ten seconds of awkward silence. “So, uh, did you make a Christmas list this year?” She asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

Muhammad shook his head. “Nah, you?”

Aris shrugged. “I kinda did. Not an actual one with tangible things, more like a mental one.”

“Oh, word? What’s at the top of the list?”

“Dick,” Aris thought to herself.

Muhammad’s eyebrows rose as another smirk slid across his face. “Oh word?” he asked, followed by a light chuckle.

A groan accompanied the roll of Aris’s eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d said her private thoughts aloud. “Oh shit, did I say that out loud? Fuck, I’m soooo fuckin’ embarrassed. I’m so sorry!”

He shrugged. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for.”

She could feel her caramel skin tone turning beet red with embarrassment. “Damn, I can’t believe I did that,” she said, loosely covering her lips with her hand.

“Stop apologizing. You ain’t say nothin’ wrong,” he assured her while taking in all of her with his eyes.

To put it plainly, Aris was simply breathtaking. She was rocking a short platinum blonde fade that reminded him of something he’d seen Eva Marcille wearing at one point in time or another. He was impressed by her lineup and special design cut into it, making a bold, yet feminine statement. Not many women could pull off a haircut like that, but to him, she wore it well. Aris’ French manicure on long, almond-shaped nails told him she was brave but classic. Muhammad knew just from the oversized flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers she had on that she hadn’t been expecting company. He admired her slim body type and the way her platinum blonde hair color complemented her dark brown eyebrows. There was an innocence about her that he appreciated. To some, she may have been plain like vanilla ice cream, but lucky for her, vanilla was his favorite. She had a contagious smile and a set of solidly carved thighs he could see himself diving in between if given the opportunity.

“So, are DoorDash deliveries the only thing you do?” She asked.

His face soured. “What?”

“I’m sorry if that came out wrong. I’m just asking because I thought about picking it up on the side once but never went through with it,” Aris babbled.

She gave a half shrug, hoping she hadn’t completely stuck her foot in her mouth. Despite the fact that they’d just met, she was enjoying his company. “Stop me if I’m just rambling on or you feel like I’m holding you hostage. I don’t want to keep you from getting home.”

“You good, Aris. I’ll stay as long as you want me to. As far as I’m concerned, I’m right where I need to be.”

Aris lifted her chin as a grin creased her face. The fact that he wanted to continue spending time with her so that neither of them would be alone during the snowstorm lifted her mood even more. Instead of responding, she decided to show off her own “homemade” drink for him.

“I want you to taste something,” she told him.

His face slightly lit up. “What do you want me to taste, Aris?”

Warmth spread across her face. “It’s sort of a family tradition. Here, try this,” she said, handing him a glass of her Christmas concoction.

“What is it?” “Just try it. I think you’ll like it,” she assured him. Muhammad slowly lifted the glass to his lips. She eyed him closely, trying to decipher whether or not he truly did like her holiday drink of choice. “Soooo?” She asked, eager for his response.

“This shit is pretty dope. What all you put in it?”

“Uh, let’s see—some eggnog at the base, then two shots of Henny, and a few dashes of brown sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon. It’s like Christmas in a cup, right?”

He laughed. “Yeah, Christmas in a cup.”

Aris fixated her gaze onto his smile. He had the sexiest one she’d ever seen. Being handsome was an effortless task to him.

“Yo, you good?” He asked, derailing her train of thought.

“No. I, uh—I was just thinkin’ that I should probably put somethin’ on my stomach before I have any more to drink.”

“I’m curious, what happens if you keep drinkin’?” he asked.

Muhammad ran his hand down the side of her face, taking in the softness of her skin on his fingertips. He edged closer, gliding his fingertips against her waist before bringing his lips within the same breathing space as hers. Aris was taken by surprise, but it was a pleasant one. Her fingertips galloped through the coarseness of his beard while his hands raced one another down the arch of her back trying to get to her ass. Muhammad’s calloused hands cradled her body as he propped her up on the countertop. Neither of them was brave enough to break the transfixing connection they shared through a simple kiss. Falling deeper into the moment, Aris draped her arms around his neck and let her legs engulf his waist. She never wanted the moment to end.

Her chocolate brown eyes popped open when she felt Muhammad take a step back. She was more than happy to watch him pull his shirt over his head. Aris smiled to herself while mentally counting each ab muscle. There were eight perfectly sculpted abs stacked on top of each other.

Muhammad stepped back into the spot he’d just left and began massaging her erect nipples through her flannel top. An effortless moan escaped past her lips. As captivated as she was by everything that was happening in the moment, there was still a part of her that kept telling her she couldn’t go out like that.

“Wait, hold up…” she said, gently pulling her body away from his.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Aris quickly shook her head in an attempt to put his suspicions to rest. “No, nothing is wrong. It’s just, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression that I’m some sort of psychopath that preys on DoorDash delivery drivers.”

“I don’t think that shit at all,” he told her, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her eyes rolled back inside her head. “Fuck,” she thought to herself. He’d found her spot. “Shit, are we really doing this?” she breathed.

“Feels that way to me,” he said, grabbing his dick through his pants.

His dark-eyed gaze tugged at the last bit of willpower she had left. “Do you have a condom?”

“Nah, this was the last thing I expected to be doing when I showed up at your door,” he confessed, rubbing the arc of her hip bones with his thumbs.

“That makes two of us…hold on right quick, let me see what I have,” she said before hopping off the counter.

Aris didn’t want to admit that she knew she’d been harboring an unopened box of condoms underneath her bathroom sink for the past seven and a half months. Since she’d started working at the prison, she didn’t have much time for a social life. Dating apps weren’t her thing, so in the end, she relied heavily on the three different vibrators occupying her nightstand drawer. She walked into the bathroom and closed the door, almost ashamed to look at herself in the mirror. Instead, she dove underneath the sink, cracked open the box, and was sure to check the expiration date before closing the cabinet door.

“You’re in luck, I found a con—,” she paused, as she made her way back into the kitchen to pick up where they’d left off.

Aris’s jaw seemingly hit the floor around the same time his pants did. He was standing in the middle of her kitchen massaging an erection so big she didn’t have a big enough bow to put on it. Without saying another word, Muhammad pulled her in for another kiss while smacking her ass and gripping it tighter. He gently peeled off the remainder of her clothes before placing her back on the counter. She arched her back and parted her thighs while he pulled her body as close to the edge as he could. Aris watched him slide the condom on, secretly patting herself on the back for getting the XL pack all those months ago. He positioned his hands underneath her thighs and slowly inched his way inside her warmth.

Aris’s nails dug into the edges of the counter, trying to hold her balance while Muhammad gradually picked up speed, fucking her suspended body in mid-air. His tall frame was hunched over and his eyes were hazy. He stared at her so intensely, she didn’t dare blink.

“Mmm, shit,” she moaned.

They were only a few strokes in, and she was already ready to scream his name to the highest of hills. Muhammad slowly dragged his lips from hers, while keeping his weight pressed onto her chest. He’d officially earned the title of “Slow Stroke King” in her book.

Eager to sample everything she had to offer, he asked, “Can I taste that shit? Let me taste that shit.”

Before she could muster up the energy to shoot him a head nod, Muhammad had already buried his face between her thighs. Aris tossed her head back in pleasure, running the most sensitive parts of her fingers down and over his braids.

Aris sucked in a sharp breath. “Ooooh.”

Muhammad wrote his name forwards and backward against her folds, only stopping to kiss her inner thigh and blow on her throbbing clit. Her juices tasted like honey and lavender. Aris was as sweet as he’d imagined she’d be. Knowing his cunnilingus skills were A-1, he decided to take things to the next level. He began rubbing his index and ring fingers down her plump lips before sliding his longest finger inside her. Another one followed soon after. Aris gripped the back of his neck as he repeatedly tickled her G-spot, ready to make her scream his name.

“Goddamn, you wet as fuck,” he informed her.

He kissed up her stomach until his lips latched around her left nipple. His hands and tongue worked in tandem, massaging one breast while tongue-fucking the other. Knowing he could no longer fight the urge to climb back inside her, he pulled her off the counter and bent her over the sink. He hooked his hand around her throat as he drilled in her from behind. Every stroke delivering the big dick energy he knew she needed. Aris found herself screaming louder than she ever had in her life. He was putting it down like he was making up for lost time although the two of them had never crossed paths before.

Muhammad leaned in to kiss her neck before placing both hands on her shoulders to drive her body back into his. The way he handled her body was as if he’d known her his entire life. Delicate, yet firm. He lifted her leg on the side of the counter and pushed deeper. His strong hands cupped her ass as he pumped faster. Aris’s mouth hung open. He was deliberately stretching her to her breaking point. She was cumming, quicker, and faster than she’d ever done before.

“Ohhhh my fuckinnn’ Gahh—damn!” she screamed.

IT WAS FOUR hours, five used condoms, and multiple sex positions later before they both decided they’d quenched their thirsts for one another. He’d awakened something in her; unleashed something even.

“Who told you to fuck me like that?” Aris asked, desperately trying to catch her breath.

Muhammad’s lips parted in a grin. “Shit, I just wanted to give you what you said you wanted for Christmas.”

She grinned while glancing over at her phone that had somehow ended up on the floor amid their shenanigans. It was 1:04 am, and officially Christmas Eve.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” she mumbled to him before drifting off to sleep.

Aris woke up the next morning to the sound of her phone vibrating underneath her pillow. She looked down, realizing she was wrapped in nothing but Muhammad’s arms and her flannel sheets. She lazily felt around for her phone long enough to press the side button to silence it completely. Two minutes later, the vibrating started up again and then again after that. Frustrated, Aris slowly rolled out of bed with her vibrating phone in hand. She extended her arms wide, giving her body a good stretch before sliding on Muhammad’s white tee that was crumpled up on the floor beside her feet. When she finally got around to looking at her phone, she had missed three calls and five texts from Yara. Figuring she was trying to give her an important update on the lockdown, she quickly called her back.

“Hello?” Aris whispered while tip-toeing out of her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

“Oh my God! It’s about time you answered!”

“I’m sorry, I was asleep. It’s literally like seven o’clock in the morning, Ya. What’s going on at work?”

“You mean to tell me you still ain’t turn on the news yet? Check your phone, girl. They finally announced who the three escaped inmates were. I sent you a screenshot of their pictures from the TV. I’ve never seen any of them before, but apparently, they are dangerous as fuck!”

“None of them have been caught yet?”

“Only one, but he ain’t talkin’ about where the other two are,” she told her.

“Wow, okay. Hold on and let me look at what you sent,” Aris said, pulling her ear away from the phone and pressing the speaker button. “Okay, give me a second I’m pulling up your texts right now…”

Aris clicked to open the text thread between her and Yara and her mouth immediately dropped open.

“Did you look yet? Do any of them look familiar to you?” Yara asked.

Aris’s eyes bulged with terror. All she could hear was her heartbeat ringing in her ears. “Oh…shit,” she mumbled.

“What? What’s wrong, Aris? You recognize one of them or somethin’?”

“Ya, I gotta call you back…”

Without waiting for her friend to respond, Aris abruptly ended the call. No matter how hard she tried to tear her eyes away from the screen, she couldn’t. What she saw horrified her to the depths of her soul. She was staring right at a mugshot of Muhammad.

“What the fuck…”


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Dec 18, 2020

Midnight & Mistletoe had sitting on the edge of my seat. I did figure out something was right about Muhammad. As soon as Yara mention the news. It hit me. I wanted more. Incredible story.

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