Rest Ye Merry Mermen & Moonlight and Mistletoe
Rest Ye Merry Men
&
Moonlight and Mistletoe
By
Megan Hussey
A Silk’s Vault Electronic Publication, in arrangement with author Megan Hussey.
ISBN # 1-934055-80-8
Copyright © 2006 by Megan Hussey
Cover Design and Art by Carmel St. James, © Copyright 2006
Edited by Peggy Roberts and Pat Sager
Silk’s Vault Publishing
www.silksvault.com
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in part or whole, in any form or by any means, without permission from both the author and publisher. All characters, incidents, situations, institutions, governments and people are fictional and any similarity to characters or persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Rest Ye Merry Men
Chapter One
Yep, no doubt about it, Christianne Belleville shook her head as she trudged wearily through the halls of Seas the Moment, a beachfront souvenir shop in Port Emerald, Florida. It’s going to be a Florida Christmas.
If the ornamental sleigh lead by eight antlered pink flamingos was not a sufficient harbinger of this fact, then the mermaid ornament display certainly was.
Even more interestingly, each of the decorative porcelain mermaids bore an uncanny likeness to Riana, her ex-husband’s first secretary¾and soon to be second wife.
Oh yeah, Riana doesn’t have a fin, at least not that I know of, Christianne shrugged as she stepped closer to the Splash of Spruce display tree that bore these colorful caricatures. I must say, though, that these little ladies liken her in a number of ways. Flowing hair? Check. Annoyingly narrow waist? Check. Plastic boobs? Check.
Sniffing loudly, Christianne made to turn away from the offending tree.
Can a tree truly be offensive? She cocked a curious eyebrow. She stopped abruptly as she spotted a low-hanging ornament that lined a far corner of the Splash tree.
This hanging figurine bore some striking similarities to others on the tree. Like the others, it came complete with flowing hair, flawless features, and¾naturally¾the prerequisite fin.
And this ‘merperson’ also bore an impressive chest; one that appeared bronzed, bulging, and decidedly male.
“A merman!” Christianne pumped her fist in the air with obvious enthusiasm. “Rock’n’roll.”
Soon the ornament found its way into Christianne’s shopping basket, and she really started to like this concept of a Florida Christmas.
* * * *
Hours later, Christianne savored yet another benefit of a winter holiday spent in the Sunshine State. A December day that did not freeze one’s extremities, or entail the wearing of layered polyester.
On the beaches of Port Emerald, one could spend Christmas Eve with her toes buried in warm golden sand, and her gaze trained on the sheer azure sheen of sparkling waters. She could walk alongside noble, ivory-feathered cranes and witness the soaring of diamond-hued dolphins.
Of course, one also witnessed the countless families who walked the beach together, sharing and enjoying these sights.
Christianne, for her part, trekked the sands as a solitary traveler. And soon, she would retire to a hotel room that overlooked Port Emerald Bay; one that came complete with a single bed and a small Christmas tree she would decorate alone.
For now, though, Christianne closed her eyes and felt her senses lulled by the flow of sweet breezes, and the song of seagulls overhead.
She then opened those eyes to catch a radiant sunray as it illuminated the waters below; lending a rich ruby cast to waves fresh and flowing.
I guess if one is going to be miserable, one might as well do it in style, she shrugged.
Chapter Two
That evening Christianne bore witness to another Yuletide spectacle; a finely made, sleekly contoured ornament that now adorned the top branch of her mint green tree.
Like most ornaments, this one stood as a finely carved piece with luminous bronzed highlights.
Unlike most ornaments, it also came complete with the engraved likeness of washboard abs–not to mention a fin.
The merman ornament, Christianne found, marked the ideal compliment to a tree decorated with pink satin ribbons and glittering gold ornament balls; as well as a string of lights illuminated to display the colors of the rainbow.
It’s high time I had some color in my life, Christianne grinned as she admired the golden hair and gem blue eyes found on this figurine, as well as its emerald-hued fin. And as she graced the branches of her miniature tree with lush lines of richly textured garland, she found herself humming ‘mermanized’ versions of popular Christmas carols.
She had launched into her second chorus of “God Rest Ye Merry Mermen” when another ornament caught her eye. Like her treasured merman, this one also glittered in the ethereal, almost surreal glow of the lights surrounding.
Yet for all its beauty, the silver ball engraved with the phrase “Our First Christmas Together” brought tears to Christianne’s eyes. It reminded her all too vividly of her first Christmas with Harold.
It was only five years ago, she frowned. It feels like an eternity.
That year, she recalled, she had placed this ornament on a larger tree, in a comfortable home, at a warm family gathering hosted by a young, beaming, newly-minted bride.
Standing abruptly, Christianne set aside her ornament box and headed for her closet. Soon she had donned a modest, one-piece black bathing suit and stood at the front door of her hotel room.
Suddenly she felt smothered and confined in her solitary room. She yearned–no, needed–to bask in the gentle winds of some fresh sea air and forget her troubles.
Chapter Three
It was the night before Christmas; which, depending on one’s life situation, could be pretty bloody problematic.
Oh, Clarion certainly appreciated the sentiment and meaning behind the holiday season; a time of year that was spiritedly and beautifully celebrated in his native land of Great Britain, with Christmas carols in Trafalgar Square, the hanging of ivy and holly, and the devouring of treats such as plum pudding and mince pies.
Still and all, the Yuletide season proved a particularly challenging time for a dude with a fin.
“Elves, reindeer, all sorts of mythical creature types get a free pass this time of year,” he sniffed. “Mermen, by contrast, are still persona non grata. Where is the justice, people?”
Even so, Clarion always found something to celebrate this time of year. The smiles of children who passed him on the beach, the laughter of families on holiday; these simple expressions always brought a smile to his face.
This year, in fact, he even dared to come onshore to Port Emerald Beach; willing to weather the condemning stares and irreverent laughter of passing beachcombers in an effort to garner some holiday cheer.
It turned out to be a long, extended effort. The gentle breezes of early evening, coupled with the warmth of the sands beneath him, lulled Clarion into a light sleep.
“Not light enough, apparently,” he sniffed aloud now. “I didn’t even notice the defilement of my fin.”
Indeed, someone apparently had played a Yuletide prank on the sleeping merman; wrapping a stream of multicolored Christmas lights tightly around his fin.
As a result of this prank, Clarion was rendered motionless; unable to escape into the azure waters he called home.
At this time of evening, few people remained at the beach; especially on Christmas Eve.
Everyone is at home sipping eggnog, wrapping gifts, and entertaining their children with whimsical stories of the finned, festively lit f
reak they saw at the beach today. He sighed deeply and rolled his eyes.
“Excuse me, Sir. Are you okay? Can I help you?”
Starting, Clarion’s azure gaze shot up to meet his current questioner.
He guessed the woman to be in her mid-thirtys, with a pleasantly plump figure and an open, soft-skinned face.
Her smile warned him, and her words held a degree of human concern that touched him to the core.
“I am in a spot of trouble, thanks for asking,” he beamed.
Nodding, the woman sank to her knees beside the fallen merman and quickly uncoiled the tightly wound lights that held him hopelessly captive.
Although not a conventional beauty, Clarion admired the way that the woman’s keen emerald eyes shone with concentration as she bent to her task–and the way her feather soft brown hair fell softly across her broad shoulders.
“I would say it was very nice to meet you, but I don’t see how it could be feasibly or even possibly ‘nice’ to meet anyone under these circumstances.” With this he arched a sardonic eyebrow. “So I’ll just say that I’m most glad you came along.”
The woman’s bright, tinkling laughter sent chills down his spine.
“Sir, you have a delightful accent,” she cocked her head curiously. “Do you hail from Great Britain?”
The merman beamed, and nodded vigorously. “Indeed, I swam as a young boy in the waters of the English Channel; a lovely area, to be sure, but I opted to relocate to a warmer climate.” He shrugged. “As you can probably guess, lass, I spend quite a bit of time in the water.”
“I would suppose so,” his admirer grinned. “Anyway, your accent is most charming.”
“Blimey, most people don’t even notice.” I like this woman, Clarion decided. “They tend to notice something else first.”
His visitor shrugged as she stripped the last line of lights from his fin.
“Your smile?” she offered.
I really like this woman. Clarion offered his hand. “I’m Clarion. And who is my lovely rescuer?”
“Christianne.” The mysterious woman graced him with yet another dazzling smile.
“Well, Christianne, now that you’ve so graciously restored my power of movement, would you like to help me enjoy it?”
Christianne blinked to what Clarion considered adorable effect. “What did you have in mind?”
Oh, love, I have lots of delicious things in mind. “We could start with a swim,” he offered his hand.
* * * *
Christianne giggled girlishly as her arms made broad strokes through the sparkling waves that surrounded and revitalized her.
Her swimming partner, she just had to note, appeared nearly ethereal in the sweet silhouette of a Florida evening. The golden sheen of his flowing, silken hair shone more brightly still in the lavender shades of sunset, and his bulging chest muscles appeared further defined by the presence of dewy water droplets.
“You know,” Christianne arched her eyebrows, “I find it difficult to believe your fin is the only attribute women notice about you.”
She trembled slightly as his sculpted face came alight with laughing azure eyes and a dazzling, full-toothed smile.
“Thanks for saying so, Miss. The truth is, though, that most people either laugh at me or run off in the other direction.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “So why didn’t you, Love?”
Christiane felt the color rise in her cheeks as she averted her eyes to the descending skyline.
“I like to help people…” She clenched and unclenched her hands, releasing all tension to the healing waters around her. “Plus, well, you really remind me of something hanging from my Christmas tree.”
She watched with amused eyes as Clarion pursed his lips. His keen curiosity seemed officially peaked.
“Ah, well, of course,” he nodded.
“Let me explain.” Christianne nudged Clarion’s beefy shoulder as they floated in an ever-tightening circle. “This morning at Seas the Moment, I bought a merman Christmas ornament that bore a striking resemblance to you.” She gestured briskly in his direction. “Except considerably smaller, of course.”
Clarion stroked his sculpted chin with a marked degree of contemplation.
“Seas the Moment,” his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Isn’t that the boutique just up the beach? The owner is an artist who sometimes makes his own ornaments.”
Pausing, Clarion’s cheeks flushed in what appeared to be an adorable show of modesty.
“He sketched me one day as I sunned myself onshore.”
Christianne took in her breath.
“You were the model for the ornament,” her eyes flew open wide. “Clarion, that’s wonderful.”
The merman snorted, and flipped his tail briskly.
“Except I’m getting no royalties from the sale of my ornament.” He raised a firm, manly finger for emphasis. “The wanker appropriated my image with no offer for compensation, he did. I tell ya’, Christianne; we mermen just can’t get a break.”
Immediately sobering, Christianne surged forward in the water and fixed Clarion with a warm, sympathetic gaze. Her arms soon followed, and they wrapped themselves tightly around his shoulders.
“I’m sorry you feel cheated, Clarion,” she smiled softly in sympathy. “I must tell you, though, that your ornament brightened my holiday.”
She took in her breath as the merman enclosed her waist in his sure, steady grasp and drew her closely to him.
“Blast the ornament,” he growled, pinning her with a sultry, narrow-eyed stare. “I’m a man. I can do things to brighten your holiday that no glorified doll could perform. I assure you, Love; I could render you most ‘merry’ and indescribably ‘jolly.’ “
Christianne trembled at the sound of these enticing words. She shivered as she regarded his bulging upper chest and flawless washboard abs.
She pursed her lips curiously as she perused the fin.
“I have no doubt that a man of your beauty and obvious kindness could bring me great pleasure.” With this she gritted her teeth sheepishly. “All you seem to be missing is, well…”
“A shaft?’ Clarion arched his eyebrows.
Christianne felt the color rise sharply in her face as she nodded her assent. Color rose in another place, one substantially lower, as he impulsively covered her lips in a firm, passionate kiss.
His lips likened the waves themselves in terms of sheer smoothness and luster. She sighed as his tongue flowed with elegant ease through her lips, engaging her in a heated tango of a kiss.
With a relieved sigh she sank easily against him, digging her hands into his massive bronzed shoulders as if she’d never get enough.
“I’ve never felt such strong desire for a complete stranger,” she gasped as he buried his golden head into the sensitive nape of her neck.
“I’m no stranger, Christianne,” Clarion covered his lover’s neck and chin with loving, tender nips. “Don’t ‘think’ or ‘reason’ your way away from me. Just relax and enjoy my attentions. My passion.”
As if hypnotized by his words and touch, Christianne felt her body levitate naturally in the water. Still ensconced in the merman’s embrace, she allowed him to lift her literally off her feet and carry her toward an uncertain destination.
Wherever I’m going, she mused, closing her eyes and grinning as he brazenly squeezed her ample behind, I wager it’ll be a whole lot of fun.
Chapter Four
When Christianne’s eyes reopened, they met a scene that rivaled the richest dreamscape; one rich with the golden sands and lush, rich greenery that denoted a coastal cove.
Soon Christianne sat comfortably on the shore of this cove, admiring the ruby-hued buds of a nearby rosebush and the regal sable palms that swayed rhythmically overhead.
Most of all, she admired the way that a certain finned paramour suckled her toes.
While Clarion’s lower half remained submerged in the waves before them, he extended himself lithely from the water so that he
rested between Christianne’s legs.
Now the wet strands of his long golden hair tickled the sensitive skin of her thighs, and his hands massaged and playfully tickled her lower legs.
“So Lass,” he brazenly kissed her knee before bending it in his direction, “you wondered just how a merman could bring you pleasure. Now that we’re alone and in the comfort of my domicile, do allow me to demonstrate.”
Without further hesitation, he grasped her delicate foot in his firm, manly hand and lovingly suckled her toes.
Inhaling sharply, Christianne reached downward to grasp and stroke his feather soft hair. And she didn’t resist as his lips shifted slowly to her legs, where he licked and kissed a succulent trail that had a single destination.
Laying a gentle grasp on her ankles, Clarion slid Christianne’s body downward in the sand until his head rested at the juncture of her thighs.
He ran his hands slowly and worshipfully over the curves of her hips and thighs then slid the fabric of her one-piece bathing suit boldly downward.
Soon Christianne lay fully nude in the cushion of bronzed sands. And she purred outright as her eager lover ran his fingers through her feminine nest; starting a fire that further enflamed her clit.
Christianne trembled as Clarion’s intimate ministrations nearly overcame her; wracking her entire body with sublime waves of ecstasy.
Her feminine jewel throbbed under the tender care of his smooth, velvety lips, and she sighed as his manly hands caressed and probed her soft, rounded hips.
This sigh erupted into a high-pitched scream moments later, as he pressed his mouth fully into the depths of her womanly core and lovingly lapped her clit. With a final, resounding lick, he sent his lover careening to the heights of erotic satiation.
Christianne grinned almost drunkenly a moment later, as Clarion slid slowly upward to cover her body with his.
As before, she relished the feel of his masculine arms as they wrapped themselves protectively around her shoulders. She rested her head against the smooth planes of his bulging, dew-glistened chest, and draped her own arms around his perfect back.