Dirty Santa: A Holiday MC Romance

by Daphne Loveling

  Addi laughs. “You’re funny. Like, you seem kind of scary at first, but you’re not really.”

  “There’s a lot of grown men out there who would disagree with you on that,” I rumble.

  Addi shows off the presents Santa brought her, including one from her dad. “He’s going to call later today so we can video chat,” she tells me.

  “Good deal.” Then: “Do you miss him?”

  “Yeah…” Addi’s voice gets a little softer. “But mostly I just miss how things used to be.”

  This poor kid. I know parents get divorced all the time. But seeing her all crestfallen like this on Christmas day, well, it kind of gets to me.

  “Hey, I wonder when your mom will let us open presents,” I say, to change the subject. “I got something for you.”

  “You did?” Her eyes light up. “I got something for you, too! Well, I made something.”

  “Even better. Come on. You want to go ask your mom?”

  “Yes!”

  In the end, Bailey makes us wait to open presents, because dinner’s almost ready. She has Addi help her set the table, and I do my bit, too. The house is warm now, from the oven, and smells like good food. It’s homey and comfortable. It’s weird. I should feel uncomfortable as hell, here with a hot but repressed single mom I barely know and her kid on Christmas. But it’s actually not bad.

  Except for the fact that Bailey’s got this tight little red sweater on that makes me want to peel it off her and sample what’s beneath.

  We eat at their rickety table in the open area between the kitchen and the living room. I make a note to myself that I should come back here and fix this damn thing before it gets even more unsteady. It’s not a bad table, actually. The wood’s good. I could stabilize it pretty easily.

  Then it would hold Bailey’s weight when you fucked her on it.

  It’s an effort to concentrate and make conversation when I’m trying to make sure my hard-as-a-bat cock doesn’t lift up my side of the table while I try not to stare at Bailey’s tits. Luckily, Addi’s too young to realize how I’m ogling her mom, but I think Bailey starts to get wise to it about halfway through the meal. I can see her breathing start to speed up, making her chest heave a little as she cuts quick glances at me, her cheeks flushing prettily. This girl’s getting more hot and bothered by the minute. I get the feeling that if her daughter wasn’t sitting right here, I could have her moaning under my touch in a heartbeat. I decide right then and there that if I get a chance to have her alone for a minute, I’m gonna do just that.

  Merry Christmas to me.

  After we get done eating, Bailey refills Addi’s milk glass and brings a plate of Christmas cookies out to the living room. Addi tells me that she and her mom waited to exchange presents until I got there. Addi is dying to give us her presents, so Bailey lets her go first. She gives her mom a pair of earrings that she made out of beads, and me a picture she drew with magic markers and colored with glitter. It’s of me, standing next to a motorcycle. Actually, it’s a pretty good likeness, except my beard isn’t blue and glittery.

  “That’s pretty good,” I chuckle. “It’s going on my refrigerator for sure.”

  Bailey’s gift to Addi is one of those kick scooter things, and a locking diary — both pink. Addi tries to get Bailey to let her ride the scooter in the house, but Bailey doesn’t budge. Then it’s my turn. I grab the paper bag I brought in and pull out two presents, giving the smaller one to Bailey. Her eyes go wide.

  “I didn’t get you anything,” she says, looking upset.

  “This is present enough,” I tell her, nodding toward the kitchen. “Like I said, I don’t usually do anything at all, so this is already above average for me, as far as Christmases go. Best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

  Addi rips open her present, which I wrapped in aluminum foil because who the hell has wrapping paper? I got her a mini tool box, which makes her happier than I thought it would.

  “Since you helped me with the washer yesterday, I figured you should learn how to fix things,” I tell her. “And you need your own tools for that.”

  “That’s very progressive of you,” Bailey murmurs.

  “This is awesome!” Addi crows, her grin so wide it looks like it’s gonna split her face. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome, kid.” Her happiness is contagious. Maybe I should teach her how to do an oil change when spring comes, or something.

  “Now you, Mom!” Addi urges. Bailey opens the smaller gift and lets out a tiny gasp. It’s a small wooden reindeer ornament, hand carved.

  “It’s white pine,” I explained. “Seemed like it would go okay with your tree.”

  “Did you make this?” she breathes.

  I shrug. “Woodworking and carving are hobbies. Didn’t take too long. And you said you needed ornaments.”

  “Swanky, Mom!”

  Bailey looks over at her daughter and laughs. “It’s beautiful,” she says, eyes shining. “Thank you.”

  Just then, a phone buzzes over on the kitchen counter. Bailey goes over to look. “Oh, it’s your father,” she says to Addi. “Video chat.”

  Bailey answers as Addi comes over. I hear her murmur a few words in a slightly clipped voice. Then she hands the phone to Addi and tells her to go in her room. Addi runs off down the hallway; a second later, a door slams.

  “I should start putting some of this food away,” Bailey murmurs, shooting me a small smile.

  “I’ll give you a hand.” I heave myself up off the couch before she can tell me to stay where I am. I go into the kitchen with her, moving to her side of the island.

  “You don’t really have to help, Gage,” she protests. “I’ll leave the dishes for later. I just want to put the food in the fridge so it doesn’t spoil.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “What—”

  The words die in her throat as I come up next to her, standing far too close to be appropriate. I don’t know how long I have before Addi comes back out, so I’m not gonna waste time. I reach over to one of the plates and grab a sprig of parsley. I lift my arm and hold it over her head.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, startled.

  “It’s not mistletoe, but it’s all I’ve got.” Shit, that sounds cheesy, even to me. This girl is throwing me off my game.

  “Are you… asking me for a kiss?” she squeaks.

  “You’re forgetting I caught you staring at me through that window yesterday, cupcake,” I growl, lowering the parsley and tossing it back onto the plate. “You can waste our time pretending you’ve never thought about me that way, or we can cut the chit-chat. I’ve been thinking about fucking you, and I know you’ve been thinking about fucking me, too.”

  My voice is rough — maybe rougher than it should be. But I’ve been holding back and fighting a hard-on for hours now, and I’m not in the mood to play around.

  Bailey’s breath hitches in her throat. “You can’t talk to me like that,” she half-whispers, but her chest starts to heave, her lips parting like she’s already getting ready for me to kiss her.

  “I can’t? Looks to me like you like it,” I say hoarsely. “You like dirty talk, little girl?”

  The way her eyes darken in response tells me that she does. She looks almost surprised by it herself.

  I chuckle low in my throat. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Don’t call me little girl,” she chokes out in a strangled voice. I can tell she’s trying to fight with the last bits of her resolve. But the way her breasts are rising and falling tell me she wants this, and that the more I talk, the more that resolve crumbles into nothing.

  I lean closer, my lips near her ear. All she’d have to do right is turn toward me, and my lips would be on hers. “I’ll call you filthier than that before we’re through. I’m gonna kiss you and melt your panties right off you, darlin’. And later, I’m gonna dip my tongue into your hot, sweet pussy and drink your desire, right before I fuck you into next week. But I need to
hear you say you want it first.”

  I hear her swallow. She licks her lips. “Gage,” she whispers, so softly I can barely hear her.

  “Tell me you want it, baby. Say it.” My cock is so hard I feel like it’s gonna burst through my zipper.

  A low whimper sounds in her throat. “Kiss me…”

  The last word is barely past her lips before I reach behind her and pull her against me, bringing my mouth down on hers. She moans as my tongue finds hers, and when my cock presses against her pussy, she gasps and grinds into me. Her body’s in the lead now, and fuck, so is mine. I can practically feel myself exploding inside that sweet cunt of hers. There’s no fuckin’ way this night doesn’t end with me possessing her. Fucking her until neither one of us can think straight.

  But right now, I need more than just this kiss. I need an appetizer. And so does she.

  My mouth not leaving hers, I reach down and slide my hand under her waistband, moving between the stretchy fabric of her dark jeans and her panties. Bailey gasps, but doesn’t stop me. My fingers slide under the panties, finding the hot wet center of her. She’s slick, ready for me, and when my middle finger slides back out and grazes her already-throbbing clit, Bailey’s hands clutch at my bicep, her hips moving forward to meet me. I keep kissing her, our tongues and mouths devouring each other. “Your pussy is hot and wet for me, little girl,” I growl against her lips. I stroke her clit, easily finding the spot that will send her over the edge. A muffled cry rips from her throat. Fuck me, I would give anything right now to rip those panties off and shove my self deep inside her. But for now, it’s her release I’m after.

  Bailey’s legs start to tremble as I speed up the swirls around her clit. Her whimpers grow louder, and I kiss her deeper so they’re muffled. Suddenly, her whole body goes rigid, and then a split-second later she’s coming, with cries of pleasure that I swallow as I hold her up against the counter while she writhes and shakes against me. My cock is throbbing painfully — her orgasm is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life. This shit’s gonna be in my spank bank for months.

  She continues to hold on to me, trembling, as her breathing starts to slow. “Oh my God,” she whispers, ducking her head.

  “Merry Christmas, darlin’,” I growl.

  A half-hysterical giggle bubbles up from her throat. “That was —”

  My hand is still buried deep in her panties when down the hall a door opens. Bailey flies away from me like she’s on fire, just in time for Addi to come back into the room.

  7

  Bailey

  Gage and I break apart, my hands flying up to my hair as I try desperately to compose myself.

  Addi comes into the kitchen with my phone. “Here,” she says, handing it to me. “Dad says Merry Christmas.”

  Next to me, Gage catches my attention. Raising his fingers to his lips, he sucks my juices slowly off of them. Oh my God! My face flames hot as I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. He just smiles.

  “Does he?” I choke, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as strangled to my daughter as it does to me. “Did you have a good talk with him?”

  Addi shrugs. “It was okay. Did you know he’s in Cabo all alone? At the resort where we used to stay.”

  “Is he now?” I reply wryly. Translation: His flavor of the month isn’t going to last much longer, so he isn’t bothering to tell Addi about her. Leave it to Garrett to not even have enough imagination to pick a different resort. “Well, Cabo is full of friendly people, Ads. I’m sure your dad won’t be lonely.”

  “That’s what he said, too.” She’s clearly troubled and having trouble processing the idea. “But I don’t know. It seems sad.”

  “I highly doubt your dad is sad, honey.” I’m really working to keep the snark out of my voice. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to worry about him.”

  Addi nods, frowning a little. But her face seems to clear when she spies something on the other side of the room. “Hey, Gage, will you show me what the tools are for in my toolbox?” she asks.

  “Sure thing.” Gage straightens from where he was leaning against the counter, shoots me a last, smoldering look, and saunters over to the couch.

  Left alone to myself in the kitchen, I can barely process what just happened, against this very counter.

  “I’m gonna kiss you and melt your panties right off you, darlin’. And later, I’m gonna dip my tongue into your hot, sweet pussy and drink your desire, right before I fuck you into next week.”

  God. I shiver in spite of myself. He’s so… dirty. I’ve never had a man talk to me the way Gage did just then. I should be offended.

  But I’m not. I’m exactly the opposite of offended.

  I’m turned on as hell.

  Even though Gage just gave me the best orgasm I can remember having in ages, my skin is practically buzzing with excitement and need as I look over at him. He’s got me all tangled up, with his scruffy muscularity, his frank sexual force.

  I watch his sensual lips, which just moments ago were whispering filthy thing in my ear, as he shows my daughter an adjustable spanner and tells her what it’s for. He’s good with Addi. Like he’s not even minding spending time with an eight year-old girl. And I like the present he got her. He’s not treating her like a princess cliché. The same can’t be said for her father, I’m sad to say.

  I turn and busy myself cleaning up the kitchen, leaving them to their tool talk. I’m just drying the last of the dishes when I hear Gage say, “Well, that’s pretty much it. Next thing is for you to start using them in real life.”

  “Maybe I can come over and help you in your garage sometimes?” Addi asks. I’m about to tell her that we don’t invite ourselves to other people’s houses when she calls out to me first. “Oh, Mom!” Addi she cries. “Gage says he’s gonna take me for a ride on his motorcycle!”

  “What?” I stammer, alarmed.

  “The hell I did!” he responds, glancing over at me with a shake of his head.

  “Language!” Addi and I both say simultaneously. Addi erupts in giggles. “You’re going to have to put a dollar in the swear jar,” she tells him.

  “A dollar?” Gage barks in mock anger. “Wow, that’s pretty expensive.” He huffs and shakes his head as he pulls a bill out of his wallet. “Here you go. Where’s the jar?”

  “I’ll take it!” Addi reaches out and plucks the dollar out of his hand, stuffing it her back pocket.

  I hide a smile. I don’t have the heart to tell Gage he’s just been played. We don’t have a swear jar in our house.

  “You trying to get me in trouble with your mom, kid?” Gage complains. “I swear I didn’t say that, Bailey. I told her I would take her out on the bike, if you said yes.”

  “Oh, so now I’m the heavy?” I joke. But inside I’m relieved Gage has more sense than to promise something like that without asking Addi’s parent.

  “That’s your job, right? Bein’ the heavy?” he smirks.

  I sigh. “I suppose it is. And, on that note,” I continue, crossing into the living room, “It’s about time for bed, Ads.”

  “Nooo!” she cries. She glances at the clock on the wall, prepared to argue, but her face falls when she realizes I’ve already let her stay up past her normal bedtime.

  “Yeees,” I counter. “Come on. Up, jammies on, teeth brushed. I’ll come in and tuck you in in a few minutes. Say goodnight to Gage.”

  “Goodnight. And thank you for the tools.” Addi ducks her head, suddenly shy again.

  “Thanks for the drawing.” Gage gives her a smile that’s so kind and genuine, it just about explodes my ovaries.

  Addi trots off. I ask Gage if he’d like anything.

  “You serious about that question?” he growls. “You know what I want.”

  “I mean to drink,” I say in a strangled voice.

  “I’ll grab myself another beer while you take care of Addi,” he smirks.

  I’m suddenly feeling incredibly shy and nervous about being around Gage, so I es
cape down the hall with the excuse that I have to make sure Addi’s not skimping on any of her nightly routine. In the bathroom, she’s amped up and chattery as she brushes her teeth. My daughter is still so excited by the events of the day that it would be easy to think she won’t be able to sleep. But I know my little girl. She’ll be out like a light five minutes after head touches the pillow.

  I let Addi pick out a picture book to read to me, telling her that we’re limiting ourselves to one tonight. She accepts this without any bargaining. While she reads to me, my mind is a million miles away, wondering what awaits me when I get back out into the living room. I’m terrified, and aroused, and uncertain. But one thing is sure.

  I have no more ability to refuse Gage’s touch than I do the strength to stop a moving train.

  When I get back out into the living room about fifteen mintes later, Gage is sitting on the couch, one arm stretched across the back. A bottle of beer is on the coffee table in front of him. He’s not doing anything, but he doesn’t look bored or uncomfortable. He looks… relaxed. Content. Strangely, like he belongs there. At first he doesn’t notice me, and I take a few seconds to note how handsome he is, and how just the fact of looking at his face makes my stomach do flips.

  As though he can feel my eyes on him, Gage turns to look at me. “She in bed?”

  “Yes.” Self-consciously, I cross the room and go to join him on the couch. “Thank you again for being so good to her.”

  “She’s a good kid.” He shrugs. “She’s… less annoying than most of them.”

  I start laughing so hard I have to clap my hand over my mouth so I won’t wake Addi. Gage just looks at me, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

  “That’s high praise,” I finally snicker when I’ve managed to calm down.

  “It is,” he agrees. “Kids are fuckin’ irritating a lot of the time.”

  “Language,” I smirk.

  “Do I need to give you a dollar?” he asks, his voice lowering a few notes. “Or can I pay you back some other way?”