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

by Flora Ferrari

  It’s done. It’s finally over.

  I can see why they only have Christmas once a year. Nobody could do this sort of thing full time.

  It’s madness.

  Carla reappears, handing me my check, which I notice is still showing a deduction for the costume.

  “You didn’t bring the other one back,” she says calmly. “Once it’s returned, we can launch a return claim and you should have your remaining fifty dollars within ninety days,” she parrots, sounding more bored than ever.

  I feel sick like I might actually just throw up right here.

  I feel my head shaking, my whole body shaking.

  I’ve had enough of this. I want out.

  “Carol… Carol!” A familiar voice calls after me, but I’m out. Too mad to pay attention.

  I storm back down to the dressing room, snatching my stuff up, and make for the same way I came in.

  Checking my purse, I should have just enough for the subway home.

  Home?

  Where is that anymore anyway?

  I waited for you Lucian, I went to work just like you said.

  All for another twenty-five bucks.

  Or was that part of the whole joke in the first place?

  A cab honks nearby, and I check my purse again.

  “I got like nine bucks cash and a check for twenty-five,” I tell the guy, tears streaming down my face by now.

  I tell him where I’m headed, and he jerks his head towards the back seat.

  “Gotta fair over that way soon, so jump in. Hey, you alright?” he asks once I slide in.

  I shake my head, holding in what tears I have left.

  “No. No, I’m not alright,” I tell him.

  As he pulls out, I can hear my name again, louder this time, but inside my head is all a bunch of names, screaming kids and people all asking for Santa.

  Five hours of that is enough to give anyone nightmares.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lucian

  I can’t believe she doesn’t recognize me, but like I said it’s probably for the best.

  It’s a different kind of thrill for me to be so close to her, but I can’t believe she doesn’t know it’s me. The makeup I guess is first class.

  Sweaty as hell underneath, but first class.

  The kids and their folks love it every year.

  It’s why I do it.

  But right now, I couldn’t care less about any of that. I should’ve told her it was me. I should’ve done a lot of things.

  Once the show’s over and the curtains close, there’s a stream of a different kind of people all wanting a piece of me.

  The staff.

  I’ve gotta get out of this suit and dressed, ready for the Christmas Eve ball in just under an hour.

  My plan was to reveal myself once we’d finished, then take Carol shopping for a gown, so she could join me.

  Be at my side all night.

  What I don’t count on is her doing a runner once she gets another one of those goofy checks.

  Nowhere near what she’s worth.

  Nowhere near what anyone’s worth for the great job she’s done for the past two days.

  I try and get her attention, calling out as I push past everyone else, growling by the time I get to the back dock, seeing her get in a cab and drive away.

  The growing entourage of managers, organizers, and of course, the makeup people chases me all the way outside too.

  It’s freezing cold, and Carol has nothing on but her Mrs. Claus costume.

  People are asking me things, grabbing at me until I turn around, looming up over all of them.

  Furious.

  “Get me a fucking car, right now!” I roar, and they all scatter.

  “And whoever’s handing out those twenty-five dollar checks for full shifts worked. They’re answering directly to me!”

  In seconds there’s a dark Lincoln and I’m in the back, tearing off my Santa face.

  Cursing the whole day so far.

  This is not how I had planned on things going.

  I give the driver Carol’s address and he pushes the gas.

  At least someone knows how to do their job.

  At times I think I can see her cab, but the traffic’s so heavy in we lose her.

  But I won’t lose you, Carol. No fucking way.

  It feels like the longest ride of my life, but we pull up at her building.

  “Wait here,” I order the driver who only gives a solemn nod, no eye contact.

  I might keep him as my new driver.

  But Jesus the place looks worse today than it did last night.

  The gloom of winter doesn’t help, but I can see why my attorneys and accountants were so down on the idea.

  I thought it was just me getting them up at four am. To discuss it.

  But no. The place is a fucking wreck.

  Tossing the beard and other crap from my face on the back seat, I make my way inside, taking three then four steps at a time until I reach her floor, three long strides until I reach her door.

  I’m shaking all over, my chest is heaving in freezing air, but it’s all because I missed her.

  Because I didn’t get a chance to explain.

  It was supposed to be a surprise goddammit.

  I knock as gently as I can. But I’m pounding I know it.

  “Carol! Carol!” I demand, not wanting to wait another second.

  No answer.

  I’m making ready to kick the whole door in, when it creaks open, her tear stained face in the crack between the door and the chain still on it.

  “Carol.”

  Her face changes, she recognizes me but looks so confused.

  “Open the door, Carol, please?” I ask her gently, seeing how upset she is.

  I can breathe again once I hear the chain sliding back and the door opens wider.

  She’s still in her costume, and her eyes scan me from head to toe.

  “It was you… why?” she asks, and I can see in one hand she has the shitty check and in the other, another piece of paper. Looks like a legal document.

  Taking her by the shoulders, I sit her down.

  “It was supposed to be a surprise, Carol. It went to hell and I’m sorry about that. I really am,” I tell her, stroking her hair back and wanting to kiss her, but her look is too far away.

  Distant.

  “I was Santa, Mr. Claus… and you were Mrs. Claus,” I tell her. Talking to her as if she’s five.

  “Once we’d finished playing The Claus’s, I was supposed to take off the makeup and surprise you – if you couldn’t tell it was me already,” I tell her, stammering a little.

  “We were going to go shopping… get you a gown, some jewelry and I’d take you to the Christmas Eve ball.”

  Hearing myself say it out loud, it’s me who feels five.

  It was a stupid idea. I can see that now.

  All about me and nothing about Carol, not without her knowing anyway.

  “And those stupid checks,” I add. “I had no idea they were paying people peanuts. I’m gonna fix it, Carol. I will. I just need you back with me first.”

  She looks so confused it’s killing me inside. I want to grab a hold of her, pull her close and kiss her so much, but she’s not ready.

  “Who are you?” she asks me again, for the second time in as many days.

  I guess I should’ve elaborated, but I never like to talk about it much.

  “I’m Lucian,” I say, creasing a smile. “Lucian Kellerman,” I add, feeling my own smile fade as it registers with her, finally.

  Taking the other piece of paper from her hands, I can see it’s a notice of tenancy.

  Everyone in the building will have one, except Jelso the super. He’s long gone.

  Twelve hundred bucks from his butt-bank should guarantee him some sort of Christmas.

  “Merry Christmas,” I murmur, waving the paper gently in front of her.

  It basically states that she can rent the apartment for 9
9 years for 99 cents, which I took the liberty of paying for each tenant.

  “All you have to do is sign here and the place is yours, forever. Your neighbors too, they all got the same thing.”

  “You’re Lucian Kellerman?” she finally asks, shaking her head a little before her eyes meet mine.

  A look I’m familiar with and was scared I’d nearly lost.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Hi,” she whispers back.

  “I don’t want you to stay here though, Carol. We don’t have to go to any stupid ball either. Just come home with me, please? Let me explain on the way.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Carol

  It should have registered earlier, but who would have thought?

  Lucian Kellerman is the sole heir to the Kellerman retail empire. Left to him alone by his grandfather, I think. But I always thought he was I don’t know adopted…

  Anyway, he’s like one of those urban legends. People you hear about but never see in the news and definitely wouldn’t expect to see dressed up as Santa at a cheesy retail mall.

  I hadn’t recognized him because he’s rarely photographed, a veritable recluse.

  I always imagined him to be some middle-aged eccentric who talked to plants, riding horses all day, or whatever it is these types of people do.

  He leads me back downstairs to his waiting car. The cold air snaps me awake some, and I nuzzle into him out of reflex and need.

  But I still don’t understand. Not a hundred percent.

  “My Grandfather was Jeremiah Kellerman, lived to be a hundred and eight and I was his only living kin,” he starts to explain after we start the drive.

  The drive home.

  “I have no memory of my own folks, only know I was all alone in the world until the old man took me in, at his age even back then, he needed an heir to his fortune. I was sent from a wet nurse to boarding school and then to college, and only ever met the man a handful of times.”

  He pauses, not in deep thought, but checking I’m listening.

  I haven’t said a word since we got in the car.

  “Go on,” I tell him, making a face. “I’m listening… but it’s just all so…”

  “Unbelievable,” he agrees.

  “I know, imagine being twelve or maybe thirteen, told you’re the next in line to a squillion dollar fortune. And in the next breath, being warned not to fuck it up,” he laughs. A real laugh and I can’t help but join him.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard Lucian really laugh.

  “And every year you dress up as Santa and buy apartments for complete strangers?” I ask, not meaning to sound ungrateful.

  He shrugs. “And a whole lot more, Carol. There’s so much money, and I only need so much to live on, you’ve seen my place. It’s nice but it’s all paid for. Everything has about two hundred years of money behind it, even the store chain.”

  He’s not boasting, I can tell. In a way, Lucian seems about as amazed as I am by the whole thing. It’s as though he’s never told anyone his life story.

  “I’ve never told anyone, not really,” he admits, echoing the thought, checking that the privacy screen is up in the car.

  “Is it a car, or do we call it a limo?” I ask, having two thoughts at once.

  “I just say ‘car.’ Limo is so… I dunno…”

  “Stupid?” I suggest, but he only shrugs again, squeezing me closer as he keeps talking.

  “So when I was dressed up today, it was supposed to be yesterday as well but Old Bill filled in because I had a meeting...well I was supposed to have a meeting. Then I saw you and well, you know the rest,” he says, blowing out a breath of air with puffed cheeks and giving me an imploring look.

  “Can I kiss you now?” he asks, and I crane my neck up to meet his lips with mine.

  Something I thought I might not ever feel again.

  “Are you still mad?” he asks after a while.

  After some more kissing and a lot more cuddling.

  “Furious,” I remind myself. “What’s with paying people five bucks an hour, holding back money as a ‘deposit’ on this monkey suit?” I exclaim. Trying to be funny but hearing the actual anger in my voice.

  Lucian sighs, looking out the window. I hear his breath catch as he answers, and I know he had no idea.

  “I’m fixing it,” is all he says, and I hold his hand, squeezing his huge fingers in my palm as I peck his cheek.

  “I know you will, I just had no idea.”

  “Neither did I,” he adds somberly as we drive in silence for the rest of the way.

  Once we reach the familiar gates of the grounds, I notice huge wreaths hung on each side, which makes him groan quietly.

  “I forgot. They always do this… every year. It’s an old house and some of the staff remember Grandpa Kellerman,” he explains.

  Opening his mouth to say something else, a phone in the console rings and he snatches it up with a breath of impatience.

  “…So? Well I won’t be attending, nobody ever knows I’m there anyway- What? Just do what you think is best… no I’m not ill. I just had an epiphany, one I’ll share at the next senior staff meeting. And I’m not to be disturbed for forty-eight hours, understand?” he clips, snapping the phone back into place.

  “Some of them have had a very good run with my money. And this will be their last Christmas with it,” he says cryptically.

  “I hope I didn’t-” I start to say, but he smiles.

  “No. You’ve saved the day, Carol. You really have. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t turned up.”

  The car pulls up to the front and he helps me up the steps.

  Once inside, he leans back against the door and draws a heavy bolt across it.

  “We’re alone now, promise,” he says, a low groan of satisfaction escaping him as his eyes run up and down my body.

  I feel self-conscious, but looking at the padded suit he still has on, I figure we both look ridiculous.

  “Shall we get out of these things?” he asks, cocking his brow as he moves closer to me.

  I don’t need him to ask, once his hands touch my hips, my chest, and finally the inside of my legs, I know exactly what needs doing.

  “It’s not quite Christmas,” I tell him, my breath and whole body shivering under his touch.

  “So?” he asks gently, tracing his lips across my neck.

  “So I have something to give you anyway,” I manage to say, noting his eyes fixed on mine.

  “Now, Lucian… right now…” I stammer, swooning into his strong arms as he lifts me up, taking us both where I know we should have stayed all along.

  Our bedroom.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lucian

  I never thought I’d hear it from her own lips so soon. Especially how things went today.

  Wanting everything to be just right? So far that’s blown up in my face and I think we both know what we both really want anyway.

  I want Carol, and she’s giving herself to me, right on Christmas Eve too.

  My own costume I tear off easily enough, glad to be free of it and half wondering if I should shower first.

  But Carol’s eyes and her moans of anticipation as she writhes on the bed in front of me tell me differently.

  Kneeling down on the bed, my legs straddling her, I start to unbutton her Mrs. Clause top, unhooking her bra.

  Determined not to overlook her chest this time.

  I was overcome with the need to have her in my mouth yesterday, but today will be different.

  But there’s something else.

  A familiar looking piece of paper slips from her chest.

  My note. She kept it right by her heart all day… even after she ran.

  Figuring the deposit on her costume is rescinded, I tear her skirt and panties off with both hands, making her gasp and shudder again, her thick legs hooking around mine, her hands reaching out for what I know she really wants.

  But I’m not done admiring h
er chest just yet.

  With both hands I squeeze her breasts together, marveling at their smooth softness then adding my own touch by kneading her thick nipples with my thumbs and fingers.

  She falls back, helpless and I can feel the urgency of her need but I just can’t rush this moment.

  Leaning over I take each nipple, one by one into my mouth and swirl my tongue over and around it, savoring the softness of her.

  Savoring her taste.

  Her hips are bucking up, seeking my cock that’s bobbing out in front of me like a flagpole, pressing into her belly and making me groan.

  Each time she touches me, I can feel lines of my own clear warmth dripping from my tip.

  Ready to claim her.

  “Lucian,” she whimpers again.

  The name I want to hear her calling over and over again, for the rest of my days.

  My thighs rest between hers, and I know why we’re such a perfect fit already.

  I’m a big guy, and any bony, stick thin girl just isn’t gonna feel the benefit of what I have to offer.

  With Carol, our skin on skin contact is full, intense.

  My hard balancing her smooth softness, melting into one perfect feeling, no matter where or how hard I press against her.

  Her fingers claw at the back of my hams, and I feel my whole body tensing as I lower myself, ready to enter her.

  I use one hand to guide my throbbing aching cock to her quivering pussy, the hot wetness as it touches my head’s smoothness makes us both groan like wild beasts and I wonder just how much longer I can hold on.

  She’s so close, I can feel it, but we both feel a stronger need than our own climax.

  The two of us becoming one. Claiming her as my own and showing her just how much pleasure she deserves.

  “Mine,” I groan, and although she can hardly speak, I watch her mouth the word ‘yours’ as I slowly start to enter her. Both of us jolted by the surge of feelings between us.

  If holding her, kissing her, and even tasting her with my mouth is one thing, being inside her is all those and more, times a thousand.

  Times a million.

  She’s very tight, but also very, very wet and I ease into her using her body and rotating hips as my guide.

  It’s not a swift process, but I don’t mind.

  We lock eyes the whole time, her hands shifting from the back of my legs to my arms, clawing and gripping as she gnaws at her lip, urging me to fill her with every inch of my stiff cock.