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Christmas Promises

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All the latest newness is still settling in — her promotion, Waverly’s parentage — but for the first time in months, Nicole’s mind isn’t in panic mode. They won this round. They saved Purgatory’s missing residents. Her belly is warm and full. The house smells like pine needles and fresh-baked cookies. Best of all, Waverly is staring at her with bedroom eyes, singing in a soft, whispery voice.

“Snowy streets are buzzing baby, take me home and lay with me…“

She really does look angelic, Nicole thinks as Waverly crooks a finger, beckoning her in mid-routine. In the low afternoon light streaming through the window, Waverly doesn’t just look like an angel. She’s a floating, flaxen-haired goddess who just so happens to be wearing a very sexy satin dress.

Waverly spins like a ballerina on top of a music box, arms curved gracefully above her head. Her hips sway, causing her white-trimmed skirt to swish about her upper thighs. Her sheer stockings definitely add a certain amount of adorable tawdriness to the picture, as does the bouncing pendant above her cleavage.

Nicole doesn’t realize she’s craning her neck until the Santa hat’s puffy brim slips down her brow. She adjusts it, sheepishly.

Of course, Waverly notices. “So, will you?”

Nicole blinks. “What?” The tryptophan isn’t to blame this time. All the blood has left her brain and rushed between her legs.

Waverly’s eyes dart toward the bed. “Lay with me.”

Nicole bites her lip. Of course she will, eventually, but watching is so enjoyable that she isn’t sure she’s done yet. “Keep going?” she asks, in her best pleading voice.

Waverly giggles, but resumes her seductive sway. “Won't stop snowing today, so you should stay here for a while…”

She twirls, giving Nicole an excellent view up the back of her skirt. Her red satin panties match the rest of her ensemble, and Nicole has a very vivid mental image of what it would look like to peel them down and squeeze the soft, round cheeks of Waverly’s rear.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, she’s up and out of her seat, rising to take Waverly in her arms. Waverly’s breath hitches adorably, and Nicole wastes no time brushing her loose hair aside to kiss her neck. “Hi.”


“You’re so beautiful, you know?”

Waverly giggles again, undeniably pleased with herself. “I’ll be even more beautiful once you unwrap me.”

A grin spreads across Nicole’s face. “Does that mean you’re my Christmas present?”

“Why, of course, Sheriff.” Waverly turns, draping both arms around Nicole’s neck and standing on tiptoe. Their lips brush in a not-quite kiss, and she murmurs, “… assuming you’ve been a good girl.”

Nicole smiles, nuzzling the tip of her nose against Waverly’s. “Oh, I’ve been very good. But you? You’ve been naughty.”

Waverly pulls back. Both of her eyebrows shoot up, and her grin shows most of her straight white teeth. “Naughty? Me?”

“Yes, you.” Nicole slides her hands down Waverly’s lean back, admiring the texture of the dress before slipping under her skirt and palming her backside. “Don’t you remember the cheer routine?”

“That was being nice,” Waverly protests.

Nicole leans in, as if for another kiss, but darts sideways at the last second to whisper in Waverly’s ear. The shiver that races through Waverly’s body as her breath hits is even more rewarding than Nicole had hoped it would be — and her hopes were high to begin with.

“You weren’t wearing panties.”

The sweet whimper Waverly releases upon being reminded sends Nicole’s pulse skyrocketing. She’s no longer sleepy, and the fog in her head is all lust now. She slides the tips of her fingers beneath the cheap elastic of Waverly’s panties. The flesh beneath is so much softer than satin, and far more yielding to her touch.

Angel flesh.

Part of Nicole’s mind struggles to wrap around that, but then again, she’d thought Waverly ethereally beautiful the very first time they’d met, before she’d known — before Waverly had known herself. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if Waverly’s human side is just as alluring. Just as gentle, warm, and welcoming.

Things change, but not always for the worse.

“So, Sheriff Haught,” Waverly says, mouthing at Nicole’s jaw, “can I still sit on your lap and ask for what I want? Even if I’m not always such a good girl?”

Nicole uses her grip on Waverly’s rear to guide them both to the bed, sitting down on its edge. “I think you’ve been good enough to earn that.”

Waverly straddles Nicole’s thighs, bracing both hands on her shoulders. The new position places her breasts dangerously close to Nicole’s face. She licks her lips, swallowing around a lump in her throat, and her grip twitches on Waverly’s ass. Her hands are already full, but her mouth isn’t…

She scatters kisses across the tops of Waverly’s breasts, nuzzling the dip of her cleavage. The pendant she’s wearing is only a minor annoyance. Waverly’s scent is stronger here, and Nicole draws it in happily, searching for a good place to leave a mark. She latches on with tongue and teeth, sucking and worrying until a pretty purple bruise stands out above the low-cut neckline of Waverly’s dress.

Waverly’s hands move to her hair, urging her to keep going. “Nicole, please…”

From the rocking motion of Waverly’s hips, Nicole can tell she’s losing patience. With considerable effort, she removes one of her hands from Waverly’s backside and uses it to tug down her top — not all the way, just enough to reveal her right breast. Her dusky brown nipple is already pebbled with need, and Nicole draws it eagerly into her mouth, rolling her tongue over and around the tip.

Waverly gasps and arches. It’s a beautiful sight to behold, although Nicole has to stifle a wince as Waverly dislodges the Santa hat, nails raking her scalp a little too hard. For such a short, slender woman, Waverly sure can get passionate: a trait Nicole doesn’t mind one bit.

Wanting to feel that passion for herself, she slips her other hand down the front of Waverly’s panties. What she finds there makes them both shudder. Waverly’s lips are puffy and swollen, with plenty of slickness between, and Nicole wastes no time exploring the landscape. She already knows which spots Waverly loves best, the right amount of pressure and speed to use.

As soon as she circles Waverly’s clit, her head lolls back, and she makes a keening noise that causes Nicole’s very bones to ache. She does it again, and again, until Waverly’s bucking into every stroke and the hand in her mussed hair tightens to the point of discomfort.

She doesn’t care. This is the best Christmas gift she can imagine: Waverly, just Waverly, all her worries and inhibitions set temporarily aside. Seeing her like this, so beautiful and free, stokes Nicole’s confidence. If I can make Waverly feel this way, I can be sheriff. I can protect Purgatory. I can help defeat Bulshar. I can do anything.

“Inside,” Waverly begs, gazing into Nicole’s eyes with such fevered helplessness that it sucks all the air from her lungs. “I need you inside, baby.”

Nicole obliges, first with one finger, then two. It’s a tight fit, but Waverly is wonderfully wet, and the noises she makes are more than encouraging. Her muscles clamp down, fluttering as they adjust, and Nicole hooks in search of the special spot she’s discovered thanks to plenty of practice. She knows when she hits it, because it pulses at her touch.

With one last flick of her tongue, she releases Waverly’s nipple and leans up to whisper in her ear. “Close to coming already?” she asks, adding to the tease with a few deep thrusts.

Waverly manages a shaky nod. “Please. Just… stay inside?”

It’s a sweet request. Nicole stops thrusting and resumes curling, applying as much pressure as she can. Waverly tenses, arms and legs trembling, and Nicole kisses along her jaw toward her lips, wanting to taste them again more than anything. There’s a hint of peppermint schnapps under her usual warm flavor, and Nicole laughs into her mouth.

“Needed a little liquid courage to do your routine, huh?”

Waverly pants for breath, avoiding Nicole’s eyes. “It’s been… a lot… recently.”

It has been a lot. Too much, really. And although Waverly doesn’t rely on alcohol nearly to the extent Wynonna does, Nicole can’t blame her for having a drink, today of all days. She increases her efforts, grinding the heel of her hand into Waverly’s clit. “Let’s see if we can do something about that.”

That’s all it takes. Waverly goes rigid, spilling a rush of fluid into her palm. It drips down her forearm, all the way to the elbow, but Nicole relishes the mess. The look of bliss on Waverly’s face is all she wants in the world.

Knowing this moment will sustain her through just about anything, she strives to commit it to memory, memorizing the sight, the sound, the smell and taste of it. Peppermint and soft skin. Slick, satin heat and gripping hands. Glowing hair… and that smile.

By the time Waverly is finished coming, her bones have dissolved. She slumps forward, going utterly limp in Nicole’s embrace. Nicole rocks her slowly, kissing the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “Are you all right, angel? That felt like a big one.”

Waverly looks up, eyes wide. “What did you call me?”

Nicole bites her lip, regretting her choice of words. “Um…”

To her relief, Waverly offers a shy smile. “It’s fine. A little weird, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Nicole agrees. “We can stick with baby.”

“For now.” Waverly’s lashes lower, just kissing her flushed cheeks. “You don’t think differently now, right? About me, I mean. Obviously about me, and my father being… oh, sugarsticks, I can’t do words right now.”

Nicole applies more pressure between Waverly’s legs, nestling her fingers as deep as possible, and cups Waverly’s cheek with the other hand. “I know it’s a lot to handle, but we’ve dealt with big changes before. And no matter what, you’re still the same smart, sexy, a little bit silly…”

Waverly pulls a face, pretending to be offended.

“You’re wearing a Ms. Klaus outfit,” Nicole reminds her. “And silly isn’t a bad thing.”

“That’s hilarious, coming from a recovering elf.”

Nicole wrinkles her nose at the memory. “Let’s not talk about my costume right now. Anyway, you’ll always be my Waverly, and I’m not letting you go.”

Waverly sighs in relief, dipping her head to nuzzle Nicole’s neck. “Promise?” she asks in a muffled voice.

“Promise,” Nicole says.

“Sometimes,” Waverly whispers into the safety of Nicole’s shoulder, “I still can’t believe someone like you wants me.”

“Oh, babygirl, you’re very wanted. I’ll always want you. Wynonna has always wanted you. And it turns out, your mom wanted you, too.”


“You know what I mean.”

Waverly lifts her head, but the big, bright smile on her face tells Nicole that the tears swimming in her eyes are happy ones. “Look at me, making this the Waverly show again. We’re supposed to be celebrating your promotion.”

“We are celebrating,” Nicole says. “And we don’t have to be done yet. I, uh, wouldn’t mind a little attention myself.” She was able to keep the throbbing between her legs down to a quiet roar while she focused on Waverly, but now, the ache is undeniable.

Waverly’s smile transforms into a hungry smirk. “Take off your pants and that cute kitten sweater, and I’ll show you just how proud I am, Sheriff Haught.”

Nicole withdraws her fingers and scoots back on the mattress, shucking her pants as quickly as she can. Waverly’s lipstick is a little smudged, but that only makes her mouth look more enticing — and Nicole is more than eager to experience the pleasures it can bring.