My Christmas Carol: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows Who He Wants Book 220)

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My Christmas Carol: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows Who He Wants Book 220) Page 4

by Flora Ferrari

But for tonight, for now, I want it to be just us.

  Some dinner, some conversation and then-

  Her gentle snores break my concentration.

  She’s fast asleep on my chest, making little mewing sounds with her lips and clawing at me in her sleep, like a kitten.

  I daren’t wake her just for the sake of asking what she wants to eat.

  We’ve got all the time in the world, and she’s not going anywhere.

  Not if I can help it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Carol

  I don’t remember much after getting into Lucian’s car, except both of us being hungry and him telling me not to worry about anything.

  Whatever happened after that is a blackout for me, I just remember his hard chest under my hand as I began to drift off to sleep. The rest is a blur.

  I still feel hungry, but well rested apart from that before I even open my eyes.

  I can tell straight away I’m not in my own bed, because I’m in a real bed.

  A huge, comfortable and very expensive bed, I can just tell.

  Hugging the sheets a little closer, I can smell Lucian’s cologne on them but I don’t feel his warmth anymore.

  My eyes spring open and I hold my breath while I scan my surroundings.

  It’s a huge room, and gray early morning winter light is creeping through the floor to ceiling windows.

  I’m in just my T-shirt and panties, nothing else, but I don’t have to check to know.

  Nothing else happened last night.

  I sigh heavily, almost disappointed.

  The mysterious and majestic Lucian whoever he really is, gave me a taste of pleasure at my apartment, took care of my super whatever that means, and then drove me home to his house and just put me to bed?

  As soon as I spy the note on the dresser, I know that’s exactly what happened.

  The furniture is heavy, solid wood with light colored everything else.

  Clean and fresh, like an ad for ice cream.

  God, I’m so hungry.

  I lay for a while, soaking in the atmosphere and hearing nothing but complete stillness.

  A silence I’d never get in my apartment.

  The single thought of the place makes me wince, hoping I still have a place if things don’t work out.

  But somehow I know they will.

  Somehow, all of this feels like home already.

  I stretch and squeak a little yawn before I venture out of the warm bed, noticing the temperature of the room is constant too. Just right, and I grab the thick cream envelope with my name on the front before opening it.

  It’s dated, Christmas Eve.

  Carol,

  I had to leave early this morning, but don’t let that stop you. Ring the bell by the bed and breakfast will be there in a moment.

  Help yourself to the bath and anything else you need, if you can’t find it, ring the bell and ask for it.

  Anything you want.

  I laid out your clothes in the dressing room, along with another Mrs. Claus costume for your shift at three.

  Don’t be late!

  A car will take you to work.

  Lucian.

  P.S: You cute-snore in your sleep.

  I laugh out loud at his last comment but feel torn as well for a few different reasons.

  He’s left me alone, and only a note by way of letting me know.

  Plus, he’s telling me to be ready for work this afternoon.

  I feel excited, sick, and more than anything, hungry all at the same time.

  I check the door straight away, making sure I’m not being held prisoner or anything.

  The hallway is as big and wide as the bedroom. It’s an old stately house.

  A mansion. The kind I’ve seen in old movies, but this is the real thing, not a set.

  And it’s in perfect condition, with immaculate carpets, drapery, and more of the same heavy furniture.

  It’s beautiful.

  I want to feel hurt that Lucian’s left me alone, but it feels like home. I don’t feel out of place except for the man himself isn’t around right now.

  Going back to the bedroom, I read his note a dozen times, catching the scent of his cologne on it and throwing myself back onto the bed, I decide to try and enjoy myself.

  After all, it’s only… crap!

  It’s Eleven o’clock in the morning.

  I try to tell myself he’s joking about work too. I mean does he really expect me to dress up like that again?

  Turning my head to one side, I can make out the dressing room, the telltale red and white of the Mrs. Claus suit draped over something makes me groan again.

  The bathroom door is ajar too, and after a few deep breaths, I explore that option first.

  It’s beautiful, like the rest of the place.

  Gleaming black and white tiles with an ornate forest green frieze with a huge antique claw tub as the centerpiece.

  Matching his and hers everything, even toilets for god’s sake.

  “I don’t know what you do Lucian, but it can’t be legal,” I murmur, whistling through my teeth as I start to give up on exploring and get down to plain old snooping.

  It’s his room alright. The same cologne in custom bottles I can tell are handmade and from Paris. A little jewelry mostly watches and cufflinks, but the acre of suits, shirts, and casual wear tells me more about the man than he could in such a short amount of time.

  Deciding to test his invitation, I ring the bell by the bed.

  Avoiding the huge mirrors I look out the windows, holding back the drapes and gasping aloud at the huge manicured garden, like a scene from a postcard all covered in snow.

  There’s a gentle knock at the door, and peering through the crack as I tentatively open it, I find a hotel-style trolley covered with silver domes. The smell of fresh, hot food sees me wheeling it inside greedily.

  I don’t even care that I didn’t see who left it.

  I’m starved.

  Eating hot bacon, eggs, French toast, and sausage until I can’t move. I lay back on the bed and drift off to sleep again, returning to the dream I had where Lucian was between my legs making me call out his name.

  It must be an hour or so later, right when I feel myself about to climax in my dream when I start awake.

  Checking the clock by the bed, I know I don’t have much time.

  But why would Lucian want me to go to work of all places? And why isn’t he here with me?

  I run a bath, wondering just how much water I’m using, and find plenty of suds and salts that all smell like Lucian.

  Another soaking, reading his note, and wandering around his room again and I feel like I better get ready.

  To wear the suit or get changed at work though?

  Ah crap! My bag, phone, everything is back there in that locker.

  I have to go, telling myself I can get changed once I get there.

  But how am I going to get there?

  Oh, he said there would be a car waiting for me.

  Once I’m dressed and have my costume in hand, there’s a familiar tap at the door, and opening it I can see the light from the open front door coming up the stairs.

  In no time, and after seeing absolutely no one, I’m in the same car from last night, taking me back to work.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lucian

  I must pick up that damned phone twenty times, wanting to call her.

  Needing to know she got my note.

  Needing to know she’s alright.

  The household has strict instructions to leave her alone, only giving her anything she wants when she rings for it.

  God, I hope I’m doing the right thing. I know I’m doing the right thing.

  It’s an early start for me, still dark by the time I leave her bedside, bunking down on the leather chair as I watch her sleep, smiling to myself for a few hours before it’s time to get moving again.

  Pleased to know I’ve staked my claim and that in just a few short hours, I have every
thing I want.

  Almost everything.

  Until I have our babies inside her, until I know she’s mine for keeps, I still have a nagging edge of mild anxiety.

  Maybe it’s just me getting older. Maybe it’s the fact she’s so fucking beautiful and in my house now that gives me justified cause for concern.

  Until I’ve claimed her properly, and put a baby inside with a gold band on her finger, I’ll always be a little antsy.

  Christmas Eve always starts early for me, but today of all days sees me having to front up to the meeting I missed yesterday, even though it’s a telecall from my office. I listen to the wine guy and nod, mumbling uh-huh until he names his price and I sign off on it.

  Big fucking deal.

  Some people get to buy his wine.

  I don’t know what drives these people, money? Pfft.

  My next phone appointment is with a cranky property owner and his lawyer. Same deal, different conference call.

  Both suspicious as to why I want to buy a rat’s nest on the wrong side of town, but agree on the first price closest to what he asked.

  Happy days. He even agrees to my only condition, that the super is out by nine this morning.

  Saves me another trip to look at his sorry ass.

  I would though, I’d keep true to my word, that piece of shit.

  Carol’s apartment is all hers now. And it’s Merry Christmas to all her neighbors (except one), but I’ll leave that up to her to work out once I fill her in.

  The rest of my morning is my workout and breakfast, followed by a nap I sorely need.

  But without her, it feels like empty sleep.

  I want so badly to go to our bed, to take her right now.

  But it has to be just right and it also has to be what she wants.

  After last night, I vowed to let her rest as long as she needs.

  At least I know she’s safe now, undisturbed at home.

  In our home and in our bed.

  I hope she’ll turn up to work too.

  This year is a little different, my usual Christmas Eve gig is dressing up as Santa and doing a full shift at Kellerman’s mall.

  I’ve done it as long as I can remember and it’s the closest thing to Christmas as I get. We even used to do a Christmas day thing years ago, with food and everything.

  These days, folks stay at home, don’t seem to trust ‘free’ anything.

  The thought of Carol in that suit again though. It makes me suck air in between my teeth, feeling myself getting hard just thinking about it.

  But knowing what it’s really for, how much it means to all those families to see Santa and get a free something or other.

  I tell myself I can deal with Mrs. Claus in that way later.

  Mrs. Claus eh?

  The thought makes me groan louder, throwing my head back on the headrest as the car zooms towards Kellerman’s.

  Away from her, but only just for a little while longer.

  Easy, Lucian. Just take things one step at a time, I tell myself.

  I wonder what old Kellerman would say if he could see me now?

  Talk about the ghost of Christmas past. The guy was as uptight and about as Scrooged as they get.

  But I’m not him. And I never will be.

  Not really anyway.

  As much as I try and hold off, I finally give in. I call up the staff just to make sure she’s coming in to work at least.

  Otherwise?

  Otherwise, I’d drop everything and go to her. But I’m thinking she’ll be here.

  When I hear she’s already on the way, I relax a bit, just a little.

  If she can put up with my busiest day of the year, she can put up with me for every other day in between.

  I get to the employees’ entranceway ahead of time and make my way to the changing room.

  It feels like a lifetime ago that I saw her, right here.

  But it was only yesterday.

  Mr. Claus’s suit, for me anyway, is a little more complex.

  I have a couple of helpers when it comes to covering my dark brows and features, making me look like the real thing.

  The padding is light, adding rounded edges to my physique.

  I don’t know how they do it, but in an hour and a half, I look like a six foot seven Saint Nick.

  “Will there be anything else, Mr. Kellerman?” I’m asked, my hand waving them away out of reflex.

  “Uh… no. Thanks. And call me Lucian for god’s sake,” I scoff.

  “Oh. But do patch through the national payroll manager when you can?” I add, disappearing into my own thoughts, looking into my own eyes in the mirror.

  Wishing she was here already.

  My Christmas Carol.

  Pressing my fingertips together and letting them go out of focus, I can hear a different kind of Christmas.

  The kind where there’s laughter instead of meetings. Carol against me, begging me to let her come.

  The smell of roasted turkey instead of makeup and the feeling inside that makes me want to hug and hold all the reasons for the season.

  I can see us all now… Carol, the kids.

  But it’s not snowing.

  We'll have Christmas where there’s always summer.

  Lobster and warm beaches. No more white Christmases for me, they’re too damned cold.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Carol

  Christmas Eve.

  Once the car passes out of the gates of Lucian’s house and its winter wonderland feel onto the freeway towards the city, it’s clear what day it is.

  Traffic’s backed up for miles in the opposite direction and it’s nothing to do with the weather.

  In the city, it’s no better and I worry about getting to work on time at all. But like everything else Lucian arranged, it works like magic.

  I get to the employee’s entrance with a few minutes to spare.

  A door opens down the corridor, and I see a relieved Clara who motions me over.

  “There you are! I thought we’d lost you,” she says as she checks her watch.

  “Or did you think I wouldn’t come back?” I retort but she ignores my comment.

  I’m really asking myself though. Asking if I can do another five hours of the fake smile and crabby people for twenty-five bucks?

  The thought darkens my mood because a part of me knows the answer is no.

  Clara leads me to the changing room and tells me to change as quickly as I can as I duck inside.

  I know the way from here, but damn. If the smell of Lucian’s cologne isn’t as strong as it ever was in here, even the next day.

  I make a mental note to be careful if I ever dab myself with any, the stuff is mighty potent. Like the man himself, I guess.

  I unfold Lucian’s note. He’s the only reason I’m here. If he’d said wait in bed all day until I get home, I would’ve done that.

  But for some reason, he wants me here, so I’ll do it.

  Not for Clara or all those people, and certainly not for twenty-five bucks.

  “I’ll do it for Lucian,” I hear myself saying out loud, kissing his note before tucking it back into my bra and pulling on the Mrs. Claus suit, which today seems to fit better than ever.

  Snug in all the right places, but at least this one’s not cutting me in half.

  My keys, phone, and everything I left behind yesterday are still in the broken locker, so I figure they’ll be safe for another few hours.

  With a final sigh of resignation, I slip back out into the corridor, almost bumping into somebody passing with a janitor’s cart.

  “Oh, careful! Hiya Carol,” The man says, his voice is familiar but I don’t recognize him, and I don’t really have time to either.

  I make my way to what I hope is the same door from yesterday, nervously opening it in time to see the huge curtains being pulled back, revealing twice as many shoppers, and kids then there was yesterday.

  Clara glares at me for a second, giving me a second to get to my place be
fore she unhooks the chain barrier and pushes the clipboard with all the names on it into my chest.

  “Enjoy your shift,” she says acidly. A wry smile on her lips as she slips past the crowd, only looking back with some hurt in her eyes at Santa.

  Old Bill, I dunno what he could’ve done to-

  Taking my place next to Santa, I can’t take my eyes off him either.

  This isn’t Bill.

  This is somebody else.

  Then it clicks. The janitor just now, that was Bill.

  So this must be…?

  “Santa,” he says in a put-on, but deep and smoky voice, holding out his white gloved hand.

  “Come now, Mrs. Claus, we have people waiting,” he adds cheerfully, his dark eyes twinkling as he nods towards the crowd, letting out a few over the top but well-rehearsed ‘Ho-ho-ho’s’.

  I feel a moment of shock. Shame.

  Disgust.

  The last time I looked, Santa wasn’t built like a pro football player, nor did he have eyes I could get lost in.

  Eyes that make me want to tell him things, all of them naughty and none of them nice.

  I’d be his Ho.

  But I can’t. I mustn’t think that. I’m promised to Lucian. I told him I was his, and I am.

  Of course, I freaking am!

  So who’s this new guy? Could even pass for Lucian, but nah. It can’t be him, he wouldn’t.

  Sure he is a close fit for size, I reckon, even under that suit.

  Maybe he has a brother.

  Or maybe I just have Lucian on the brain, seeing him everywhere and in everything. I’ve read about people experiencing that, once they get fixed on an idea or person, they suddenly see, hear, and yes, even smell them everywhere.

  Hmmm.

  For the next five hours, I try and stay focused on the job. Just like yesterday, in no time there’s such a blur of people, noise and so much happening at once that I could be anywhere with anyone.

  But a couple of times it does feel like Santa’s eyes are on me, almost giving me that feeling again, but as soon I feel it it’s gone again.

  Whenever I look up, the new guy, whoever he might be is always looking someplace else, handing out a gift or posing for a photo.

  Just when I can’t feel my legs anymore, just when I couldn’t care less about new Santa or the never ending crowds of people and their screaming kids.

 

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