Inappropriate Christmas Pajamas Novels & Stories

I can’t help but smile; he has such charm that he can get away with quite a lot. He gently stops my little girl from pulling off his Santa hat. “Well, Mommy does look a tad naughty too… like a sexy showman… and I must say, I adore those pantyhose!” I glance down at myself, wearing an oversized sweater adorned with a snowman print, paired with candy cane striped pantyhose. “Oh dear, Santa might need some coal in his stocking for that comment!”

That was a tradition dad started after mom died since he’s not the best cook. Then we got the kids ready for bed. The kids were in their Christmas pajamas that Artemis and Shaw bought, making them look like little reindeer with their hoods. We all gathered in the living room. The fire was going, all eight of our stockings hung on the mantle waiting for Santa. The kids piled on our laps as Darius took out the hardcover copy of Dickens’ Christmas Carols from the shelf. We have read it since Hikari was a baby and too little to care.

Just a sound I couldn’t place at first… A breathy gasp. A low moan. A definitely-masculine groan. My brain whispered don’t, but my feet were already moving. Curiosity and stupidity are twin demons, apparently. I walked into the bedroom and—boom—Christmas was cancelled. There he was. Gabby my boyfriend of five years. The man who’d sworn he “respected my boundaries.” Yeah. No. He respected d*ck. Specifically, the one currently inside him. The scene was something out of a dirty novella I never wanted to star in—both of them tangled in sheets, bodies moving, breathless, lost in their own little universe.

He had impatiently replied, "Why should we celebrate Christmas too? You're so ridiculous." I admit that I had been gaslit at the time, especially after I had just seen the luxury jewelry set worth over nine million dollars in his suit pocket. But now, Melissa was wearing that exact same jewelry set. At my silence, Yves climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips against mine.

Weston I put my arm around Scarlet, smiling as we watch Jackson tear into his Christmas presents. The three of us are wearing matching pajamas, which was Scarlet’s idea. Not mine. She said she bought them as a joke, but was rather insistent on all of us wearing them and taking a picture together last night on Christmas Eve. No sooner than Scarlet gets comfortable against me, she jumps up. “Salsa, get out of the tree.” She grabs the black kitten and brings him to the couch with her. He stays for half a second and jumps down, pouncing on the pile of discarded wrapping paper.

“I’d call it pointing out the obvious—like how we shouldn't have been playing chicken with a blizzard on mountain roads.” Marcus didn't take the bait. Instead, he pulled a set of plaid pajamas from the rack, checking the size. A frustrated grunt left his chest. Sarah fought the urge to grin as she looked at the set in his hands. It was a red-and-black buffalo check with a giant cartoon bear on the chest pocket that read *I’m Beary Tired.* It was the kind of thing a toddler would wear, and the image of sophisticated, high-end Marcus Kane wearing it was almost worth the car wreck. “There’s nothing else in my size,” he groaned.

Papa says coming toward my room where I've been hiding, I love my red onesie and I don't want to take it off yet, why won't they just take me like that. "I'm ready," I say with a shrug, I could go like that, but he shook his head no and went toward the closet picking clothes for me. "You want comfy or cute?" he asks me, meaning I want sweat and a hoodie or maybe a dress or skirt to look very cute. "Comfy," I say, but I was very comfortable in my PJ. "Good choice, we're going shopping," he says with a big smile on his face, we're gonna go to Christmas shopping, I'm not sure what that includes, I have never done that kind of shopping.

She seemed both excited and nervous. I didn't have any energy left in my body, or the strength left for convincing her to behave and ask for something mild. So I nodded yes. "Really. Tell me what you want to do." Her hair was a tangled mess, her pajamas rumpled and crumpled from a night of tossing and turning. Her face was still creased with sleep, her eyes bleary and unfocused. She rubbed them with her tiny fists, trying to clear away the last traces of sleep. She then looked around the living room, probably in search of her father. After a few minutes of contemplation, she responded, "I want us to have a Christmas tree, and decorate it with ornaments."

We all glared at Dexter, and he breathed out nervously. “Here, wear this,” he said, grabbing his jacket and putting it over her. “But, Dexter. I…" Papa cut her off. “You don’t come in here uninvited and make everyone uncomfortable. It’s a child's birthday party; there are kids everywhere. Why would you think this was appropriate to wear? I don’t care who you are or if you’re dating my son. If you were smart, you would have worn appropriate clothing. Everyone is dressed casually; no one is putting on such hideous makeup, except you. And now you’ve made my granddaughter uncomfortable,” Papa says to her, not holding back.

🌹 Rose's pov🌹 * Christmas Day * My hands reach up to pull some of my blonde tresses out of my face and placed them back in my high bun. I looked at my reflection in the lengthy mirror and brushed away a tiny white speck of something similar to paper that somehow got on my eyebrow. I stepped back and brushed my palms over my very Christmas themed pajamas. The red pants reached a little below my ankle, the soft material comfortable enough to have me second guessing if to head to bed or go to Lily's.