A/N- Thanks to Laurel for this ridiculous idea, Bornonhalloween and Jules for looking this over, to J'me for laughing with me, and to all of you for reading. Enjoy and I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas! I wanted to make sure I posted this before the New Year!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, SM does.

Entry for Countdown to Christmas 2012 - A Lyrical Melody

Rating: M

Pairing: Edward/Jasper

Author's name: les16

Title: Jingle My Balls


"Did you put the cookies by the fireplace?"

An exaggerated roll of eyes and a finger flicked at the end of the cutest button nose on the planet.

"Syd, you put them on the plate yourself; you know we left Santa plenty of cookies."

She huffs, and gives me a look she could have only learned from her Aunt Rose. "Well, Pop," she drags out the word for ample effect. "You don't like to share Dad's cookies, I was just checking."

I ignore the very pointed snort from behind me. Jerk. He knows how much I love cookies, his especially.

"They're all still there, ladybug. Promise. Now," I reach over and tuck her Pepto Bismol pink blanket beneath her chin and kiss her forehead, "time for bed or else it won't matter if there are cookies or not. Santa doesn't deliver presents to little girls who don't go to sleep."

She nods and yawns adorably, her golden hair tumbles in a riot of curls and waves around her face. "But I'm not sleepy," she mumbles.

A warm breath in my ear, a hard, muscled chest rests against my back. "Bedtime, little girl. Santa will be here soon and you don't want him skipping our house do you?" Jasper asks as he rests his chin on my shoulder.

I know if I could see his eyes they'd be glittering, the blue vivid and bright, full of love the way they always are when he looks at our daughter.

"But, Dad." She pouts. Seriously, the girl could give lessons she's that good, but thankfully this time my husband is made of sturdier stuff and resists her charms.

Of course, it could be the million and one things we still have to put together before morning.

"Nope. Sleep. Now." He leans over and kisses her nose. "When you wake up, you'll be able to see whether or not Santa thought you were a good girl this year."

She makes a sound, this sort of sigh and a huff of disbelief and looks from Jasper to me, like she knows we think the sun rises and sets on her pretty little head. It goes without saying that she has us pegged, and we very rarely give her a reason to believe otherwise. She's the light of our lives, no doubt, but, be that as it may, we have hours of things to get done before we can even think about going to bed. Not to mention that Syd will be up way earlier than either of us will be ready. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

"Okay, kisses and then seriously, Sydney, bedtime. We have a busy day tomorrow. Uncle Emmett, Aunt Rose, and Nana and Grandpa will be here for breakfast and then we'll open more presents, so no fooling around, got it?"

Another round of kisses and finally . . . finally . . . Jasper and I are able to escape.

An hour later, we're sitting on the floor. After a glass of scotch and a plate full of cheese and crackers, I look at Jasper. "Remind me why in the name of all things holy we decided that it was a good idea to get Sydney something with so many parts and pieces?"

I shake my head at the mess strewn across our living room.

He chuckles. "Because she batted those pretty little baby blues and said please?"

"We're such suckers," I tell him with a snort. "I guess it's a good thing she didn't ask for a pony. And, Jesus, can you imagine how bad we'll be when she asks for a car? With the way she has us wrapped around her finger, she's liable to wind up with a pink Ferrari."

Jasper rolls his eyes at me, then shoots me a grin that makes me really fucking glad I have on loose pajama pants. "We just took the training wheels off her bike, Edward, let's not put her behind the wheel of a car just yet, huh?"

He stands up and bends down, pressing his warm lips against mine. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth as he kisses me. It's deep and slow and Christ does he taste good. Spicy from the scotch, a little salty from the crackers, and mostly just him. My favorite flavor ever.

"Mmmm mmmm," he drawls when he pulls back and teases me more as he licks his lips. "That was very nice, baby."

I reach up and grab his waist, letting the tips of my fingers brush through the soft golden hair between his belly button and the low waistband of his pants. I cock an eyebrow when he sucks in a sharp breath because he knows there was no way that touch was anything but on purpose. Those few inches of his skin are the most sensitive on his body and it's my favorite place to play . . . well,except for his cock. That is by far my favorite, followed very closely by his ass.

"I'll show you nice later on in bed," I practically snarl at him, turned on beyond belief from just one kiss. "If you've been a good boy, maybe I'll show you twice."

"Okay, well," he stutters, his eyes kind of wild and his breath choppy.

I love turning him on, so sexy.

"Let's hurry and get everything under the tree so we can have our own Christmas Eve celebration."

The man doesn't have to tell me twice.


I jerk awake, panting and heart pounding in my chest so hard it feels like my ribs will splinter into pieces. A noise, I know I heard one. I blink, reach out, and realize that Jasper's side of the bed is cold. What the hell? I reach for my glasses and strain my ears, listening, waiting. My feet are tangled in the sheets and I kick to free my legs. A thump and I hold my breath. That sure as fuck was most definitely a noise.

I roll and sit up, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 2:34 a.m. Another thump, this one accompanied by a soft, deep grunt. My mind races, a million thoughts zipping around, and frantic, I slide out of bed. Sydney is my first thought followed immediately by Jasper. I glance toward our bathroom; the light's off and there's no sign of him in there. Shit.

Stomach twisting like a pretzel and heart beating like a drum, I quietly turn the knob on the door of our bedroom and peek out into the hall. The furnace clicks on, the refrigerator hums, and I can hear Sydney's muffled snores from the direction of her room. Tiptoeing toward her, I keep my ears peeled for anything, adrenaline thrumming through my veins like a freight train. My T-shirt sticks to my chest; sweat drips down my spine and settles at the small of my back. The hardwood floor is cold against my bare feet and my skin prickles with goose bumps. My eyes dart everywhere, the light from the living room reflects off the pictures that line the hallway.

I hold my breath, my pulse thunders in my ears, as I gently, slowly, so slowly, push open the door to Sydney's room. My entire body feels like it's going to collapse when I see her still sound asleep, huddled under her pink blankets and clutching her stuffed rabbit. Her little feet poke out from beneath the covers and though my first instinct is to tuck them back inside and kiss her forehead, I need to figure out what the ever-living hell is going on in my house—on Christmas Eve for Christ's sake.

Turning, I slip out of Syd's room and move toward to the living room. Another bump, another grunt, though something about it, the deep rumbly tenor of the voice, sounds vaguely familiar. Scenario after scenario flashes in my mind and I grab the God-awful artsy-fartsy statue that Jasper's mom gave us last Christmas. I hated it as soon as it was unwrapped, though now I'm pretty damn grateful for the heavy bronze monstrosity. A glance at the front door—no broken glass or splintered wood which should probably make me feel better but doesn't. My heart stops when there's another thump, and I hold my breath, ignoring the tightness in my chest and the dizziness in my head and look into the living room. Nothing . . . until, thump again and this time, this time, my eyes finally found the source of the sound.

Jesus Christ.

It takes me a moment for my brain to catch up to what I'm seeing.

Bright red pants with what used to be snow white trim. Heavy, shiny, black boots. And that's it. That's it because they're dangling in my fireplace.

Our house is old. We've spent years fixing it up. Sanding and refinishing the wood floors. Replacing all the windows and kitchen and bathroom fixtures. Redoing the lighting and the plumbing. We've practically gutted the house from top to bottom, but the one thing we haven't had to touch is the fireplace. It's massive, made of rough brick and stone with a wooden mantle; it was the biggest selling point for the house for me and Jasper. At this time of year, our living room is a showplace, one we're extremely proud to show off, though now, with some asshat stuck in my chimney, I'm thinking I'm fucking glad that it's not one of those fake ass fireplaces that uses gas logs. The thought of setting the bastard on fire is suddenly on my list of favorite things.

"Hey, asswipe," I growl loudly, though I make sure it's not so loud I wake up Sydney.

Briefly, I wonder where in the hell Jasper is, but before I can worry too much about it, I see legs flailing about and the sight is so bizarre that I can't help but laugh.

I mean really, some idiot is stuck in my chimney. It's like a scene straight out of The World's Dumbest Criminals.

I take a few steps forward, chuckling to myself as the fool grunts and groans. I hope he's choking on the soot that's lining the chimney. Fucker trying to crawl into my damn house—on Christmas Eve of all the things—acting like the Grinch. Hell no.

"Yo, Santa. You wanna tell me what the hell you're doing in my chimney? Or why I shouldn't roast your balls along with some marshmallows? I'm feeling kinda hungry right about now and some s'mores sure do sound tasty."

I poke at his leg. "Ouch! God damn it, Edward, that fucking hurt!"

Wait a minute. Hold the phone.

"Jasper?" I ask stupidly because of course it's him, but I can't figure out how, why, it's him. Again. "Jasper?"

His body twists, his legs swing wildly. "Who the hell else did you think it was, Santa fucking Claus?" His voice is muffled, strained, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek, hard, to keep from busting a gut at the whole situation. Now that I know no one is trying to break into the house, I can definitely laugh at the fact that my husband is hanging in the chimney of our fireplace apparently dressed as Santa Claus.

I toss the bronze statue onto the sofa and stand beside the fireplace. Carefully, I slide all the stockings out of the way and then I bend over and look up, seeing nothing but a whole lot of red fur and nothing else.

"Man, you sure are wedged in there pretty good, huh?"

"Edward, I swear to God, if you don't help me get the hell out of here . . . ."

I snicker and roll my eyes. Hey, he can't see me, so I figure why not. "Babe, you gotta tell me. What in the hell were you thinking?"

I still can't quite believe that Jasper is stuck in our chimney. I gently shove the cloth bag full of presents to the side with my foot. My heart swells. My guy might be an idiot, but when Jasper decides to do something, he gives it all he has. It's just one of a thousand reasons why I love him so much. Even if once he gets free I'm going to laugh my ass off, after I beat him upside the head for scaring me so badly.

Stepping beside his legs, I grab his hips. Everything from the waist down is swinging freely—like I said, our fireplace is massive. It could totally be used in a Christmas movie, showing Santa walking out with his bag of presents over his shoulder.

I tug. Nothing. "Um, Jas," I say slowly.

"Uh uh, Edward. Get. Me. Down." He raises his voice. It shakes, the stress of the situation fully in force now.

I plant my feet and wrap my arms around his waist, holding him tight. It's so not the right time but, "Damn, baby, you smell good," I tell him.

And he does. So good. The soap from the shower he took before we went to bed mixes with firewood and smoke and there's a hint of sweat to make a combination that has my dick definitely interested.

Unable to stop myself, I dip my head and nuzzle his stomach. His red furry coat is tangled around him and the white T-shirt he's wearing underneath is twisted, leaving a mouthwatering sliver of bare skin just for me. I swipe my tongue from hip to hip, savoring every inch and taking the time to suck on the sensitive skin just beside his right hip bone. Just like I knew it would, a deep, low rumble vibrates in his chest.

"Edward," he groans.

"Hmmmm?" I tease, nipping a trail with my teeth. His pants are loose enough that with a tug, they fall to his thighs.

"Well, now, is this what Santa is bringing me for Christmas?" I ask, staring at the straining erection beneath his black boxer briefs. He's hard, very hard, and I palm his cock. "You know, this is just what I've always wanted: you, completely at my mercy. I must be on the very good boy list this year," I drawl as my fingers curl around his length.

He grunts and his legs flail. The motion is completely wasted; all he does is thrust his cock right at my face.

"You're gonna be a very sorry boy if you don't help me get the fuck out of here. I mean it, Edward. No more messing around. If you wanna give me a blowjob, by all means I'm sure as hell not gonna stop you, but at least let me get on the ground first."

I think for about 2.4 seconds before I decide I like him just where he is. He can obviously breathe just fine considering all the hot air he's puffing out and he's not hurt or else he'd be whining like he does when he gets even a hangnail so no, I won't be getting him down just yet. He got into this ridiculous mess, I'm sure as hell gonna enjoy him being completely helpless while I can.

"Yeah," I drag the word out while I blow a warm breath over his dick, and then lick my lips when it twitches beneath the cotton. "No." I chuckle and then drag my nose along his length.

His hips snap and the growl he lets loose echoes all the way up the flue.

"You're so hard, Jas. You obviously don't want me to stop," I say as I slowly push his boxers down.

"Of course I'm hard, your mouth is by my cock, but damn it, Edward, please. Help me get out of here."

And oh, he sounds so pathetic, it makes me almost want to give in to him. Almost.

Silently, I push his boxers down as far as they'll go. I flick my tongue at the bead of liquid on the tip of his cock and Jasper gasps then groans.

He knows he's mine. He's got nowhere to go, no choice but to just wait until I'm done playing with him before I'll get him free.

And play I do.

Licking up one side of his cock then down the other, I let my teeth scrape just enough that it's almost painful, but not quite. His harsh breathing sounds so loud as it echoes up to the sky and it makes my heart race. I probably shouldn't be as turned on as I am, but Lord Almighty, I want him so fucking bad. Not being able to see his face, knowing I can do anything, anything, to him right now and he can't stop me, is so fucking hot. My own dick throbs and I rub it, groaning around Jasper's length as I take him into my mouth. I circle my tongue around him as I move my head up and down. His hips try to keep rhythm with my mouth.

"Oh fuck," he moans and I hear a thump.

His head I'm guessing.

I grin.

So hot.

I swallow around him and his cock goes into my throat. My hands grab his ass, my fingers knead into the muscle. By some miracle of physics, I stand there and move him in and out of my mouth. As much as I love watching him as I suck him, this, somehow, is even hotter. I feel his muscles flex and bunch. I hear him pant and groan and I can picture him, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, the tendons in his neck stretched taut. I wish I could roll his nipple between my thumb and index finger, pinching just hard enough to make him crazy, but instead I settle for spreading his ass cheeks and teasing him with the tip of my finger. Just a tease though, my cock will be buried inside him soon enough.

"Edward, oh God, baby, feels so good," Jasper gasps and I can tell he's close.

I suck harder, giving him more of my teeth. I hum around him, knowing the vibration will drive him fucking nuts. I'm not wrong.

"Fucking hell. Yes, holy shit yes," he pants. He snaps his hips again, harder, faster, trying desperately to find some purchase to help him force himself farther into my mouth.

"Come on, Santa," I taunt, stroking him as I drag my thumb across the tip of his shiny, wet cock. I spit, making it even slicker so I can stroke faster, harder.

"Close. Oh God, so fucking close." He's positively vibrating from head to foot. All it will take is just one good lick and he'll lose it.

And boy do I want him to.

"You're gonna come and then I'm going to get you the hell out of there and then I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, you'll feel it until next year."

I moan just thinking about feeling him come in my mouth, so in a quick motion, I take him deep into my throat again and press the tip of my finger into his ass. The explosion is instantaneous. He comes in a gush of hot liquid and I swallow quickly to keep from choking.

It seems to go on forever, but finally he's spent, and I let him fall from my mouth. My own cock is so fucking hard it hurts but before I can do or think too much about it, there's a loud tearing sound and suddenly Jasper and I are in a heap on the floor. He's a mess, streaks of black soot across his cheeks only serve to make his eyes bluer, his lips redder. His hair is covered in dirt and grime but I don't give a flying fuck. All I want, all I need, is to be balls deep inside of him.

He shimmies out of his pants and I can't help but grin smugly when a tube of lube falls out of a pocket.

"Wishful thinking much there, Santa?" I taunt as I crawl over his body, pinning his back to the floor.

In no time we're both naked, lubed up, and as I sink inside of him, finally, finally, I can kiss him.

"Merry Christmas, Santa," I whisper against his mouth.

He snorts and shakes his head. "I'm never going to live this down am I?" he asks as I slowly move in and out of him.

"Never," I tell him, grinning when his eyes roll back in his head when I hit that perfect spot deep inside of him.

"Well then, Merry Christmas to you, too, baby. At least this is one we'll never forget."

I know, this was crazy and silly but I hope it made you smile. I've missed writing so I was super glad to be a part of the countdown. Do yourselves a favor, I know Christmas has come and gone, but check out all the entries ... I promise you won't be sorry!

Okay, I have a few pieces of news to share with everyone: If you are interested in following my RL author twitter and FB be sure to check out my profile page where that information is posted. I've been working on my original fiction and I'll make sure to keep you all updated on what's going on with me. I hope you will continue to follow ... and I hope to have all kinds of exciting news to share in the near future.

Next, my SoulSister and partner in crime prettykittyartist and I are hosting the most fun contest ... EVER! If you like sexy cowboys (and who in the heck doesn't) or if you'd like to see a bronc riding Bella knock a city dwelling Edward flat on his bottom, we definitely have the contest for you! Check out the webpage for the contest where you can see the pic prompts and the lyric prompts we'll be using and get those ideas flowing so you can WRITE WRITE WRITE! We want all pairings, and with so many different combinations the possibilities are endless! theheartofcountrycontest dot weebly dot com or follow our twitter atTHOCContest

As for me and fic, I'm going to concentrate on my original fiction for a bit longer but there are some ideas floating around and a things I'll be working on soon, so make sure to keep me on alert! I'm not going to be gone forever, I miss you guys too much for that and I already miss Edward and Bella so I know the itch will come sooner rather than later, never fear!

Hope everyone has a safe and Happy New Year and I'll see you soon!