He was so hard it was almost painful as I ground against him. Pleasure built, heat spreading through my body.
I moaned into his mouth, and he gripped my hips.
He finally broke the kiss to press his forehead against mine, his hot breath washing over my face. He stared down, watching us writhe against each other as his hands guided my movements.
“Shit.” He groaned, then gripped my hips tighter and stilled beneath me.
We both breathed hard for a moment as the sounds of a bustling department store slowly trickled back in.
“We don’t have time for this.” I leaned away, looking up to the ceiling to catch my breath, even as my body protested, demanded I keep going, roll my hips just one more time. My core was pulsing with need.
“We don’t have time for all the things I want to do to you,” Max ground out, his voice gravelly and intense.
I looked back into his eyes, a little surprised and even more turned on. “It’s always the quiet ones,” I teased.
He chuckled and shook his head. Then he smacked my ass, the movement lightning fast and right on the line between playful and stinging.
I jumped and made a startled sound.
He stood with me in his arms and stepped over the bench before lowering me to the ground, letting my body slide down every inch of his hard one.
“To be continued,” he declared and stepped back to adjust his prominent erection.
I gathered myself as best I could, tightening my ponytail and smoothing my red dress, then followed him back out into the store.
It was lucky the green velvet of his coat fell to just above his knees, preventing me from staring at his ass, because that was all I wanted to do in that moment. The coat, however, did nothing to hide his broad, defined shoulders—the same ones I’d just been clutching as I . . .
“Where’d they get to?” He turned to me and propped his hands on his hips, making me drag my mind back out of the gutter.
“Hmm? What?”
Max chuckled. “Head in the game, Sadie. Can you see El and Tin anywhere?”
“Oh, right! Uh . . .” I looked around, not spotting them, but then the distinctive sound of Tin’s infectious, happy laugh came from near the middle of the store. I pointed in that direction, a triumphant look on my face. “See! Head totally in the game. I’m helping already.”
Max just gave me a skeptical, if amused, smile and followed me.
We found El and Tin at the gift-wrapping station, right between the elaborate Christmas tree and the layaway and service counter. They had the attendants—a busty woman and a short guy with amazing chestnut hair, both in their twenties—roaring with laughter. All four of them were draped in ribbons as Tin expertly wrapped a very large box with sparkling red paper.
El was standing off to the side a little, also wrapping something. Not that he was going unnoticed—the attendants were checking them both out and flirting unashamedly, batting their eyes and touching them at every conceivable opportunity.
“Sadie!” Tin called out as we approached, putting a flourish on the white ribbon he’d just tied.
“Hey, you.” I smiled at him, and he had eyes only for me. Not that I was jealous—we’d only just met, decided to save Christmas together, and had a bit of a threesome. No biggie. Not like I owned either one of them. But it was nice to see I had his full attention.
“You back?” El raised an eyebrow.
“I’m back, baby.” I nodded.
He held his fist out for a bump, and I obliged.
The two attendants smiled at us politely, but their raucous laughter had died down significantly.
“We’ve been making some great progress here.” Tin gave us a meaningful look and glanced down at his pocket. The top of the globe was only just poking out, but I could see it glowing faintly.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t realized it, but I’d been worried my antics had thrown us completely off schedule.
“Yes.” The female attendant beamed as another customer walked up to the service desk. “With El and Tin’s help, we’ve smashed through all the donation gifts. Only got a handful to go.”
“Oh, that’s great.” I smiled. The store ran a program where shoppers could purchase items to donate as gifts to families in need. They were all wrapped up by staff and delivered on Christmas Day by volunteers. But I was distracted by the conversation on the other side of the service counter.
The woman who’d just walked up was in a puffy coat similar to mine, her hair in a messy bun. With hunched shoulders and bags under her eyes, she looked about as done with Christmas as I’d been when three actual elves crashed at my feet.
“Is there nothing we can do?” she pleaded with the chestnut-haired attendant. The man looked sympathetic but shook his head, saying something I couldn’t hear.
“OK, let me just call my husband.” The woman turned away and pulled out her cell phone.
“We’re wrapping all your presents too, Sadie.” Tin drew my attention back, but I kept one ear on the woman.
“The gifts you were getting for your family,” El explained. “We thought we’d save you some time and wrap them. We’ve done two but should have the rest sorted pretty quickly.”
“Uh-huh. Wait, just . . .” I waved them off, my full attention on the woman.
“I know, Mike, but they won’t do anything . . . Forty-five dollars short . . . You try telling my asshole boss that. I’m sure the shortfall will be sorted out in next week’s paycheck, but that doesn’t help me now . . . Yeah, he really is . . . I’m gonna look for a new job after the new year . . . Yeah . . . That doesn’t really solve our current problem though . . . Mike, how are we supposed to explain to a six- and eight-year-old that they can’t have their Christmas presents until after the new year?” She threw her hand up and let it flop to her side.
I turned back to the guys. They were all watching me listen in unashamedly to a stranger’s private conversation.
“Stop wrapping those,” I ordered. El immediately lifted his hands, palms out, and stepped away from the table. “I’m not getting any of them.”
Now they all looked confused, but everything was suddenly crystal clear to me. I didn’t need to break my bank buying all that stuff. My family wanted me home for Christmas. Not the presents, me—their daughter, sister, cousin, niece, granddaughter. They’d understand I’d been robbed.
And losing track of that was exactly what had made the globe fade. I’d gotten fixated on buying things when the point was to be giving—in spirit and action, not in material things.
“I’d like to purchase the few items the guys have already wrapped and donate them, but I’ll leave the rest,” I told the guy at the service counter without preamble. “I’m so sorry for the trouble. Can you please ring me up?”
The attendant looked a little bewildered by my sudden demands and how quickly I was talking, but he moved to do as I asked.
“I’d also like to pay the balance of that lady’s layaway. Oh! And also add this to her bag, please.” I grabbed a couple Nerf guns from a nearby display, hoping they were good for kids that age—an extra little gift from a girl with elf friends.
I tapped my phone to pay just as the lady hung up and turned back to the counter.
“Thank you, ma’am. That’s very generous.” The man gave me a genuine smile and turned his eyes to the woman.
I reached out to cover his hand with mine, then put my other finger to my lips in a silent plea for secrecy. He gave me a little nod.
“Merry Christmas,” I said.
“Merry Christmas, and a happy new year.” He turned to the lady, and I turned to my friends . . . who were all beaming at me.
“She’s back.” El nodded.
“Come on.” I rushed toward the door, and they followed.
I chanced one quick look behind me. The lady was crying, staring in disbelief at her purchases on the counter before her.
My heart felt warm and fuzzy.
The Snow Globe
<
br /> Once we’d moved away from the store’s front entrance, Tin pulled me to a stop, and they all crowded in.
“What happened in there, Sadie?” Elvis asked.
I shrugged. “I just remembered what Christmas is really about.”
“But what about all those presents for your family?” Tin frowned.
“I was consumed by material stuff. I’d forgotten it’s not about how much you spend or what brand name you’re buying. It’s about giving. And that’s more about what’s in your heart than what’s in your wallet.”
“Knew you’d get there in the end.” Max smiled, his hands in his pockets. They all shared amused, knowing looks.
“You guys knew I was going off the rails?” I chided. “Why’d you play along and let me lose my shit? Why didn’t you rein me in? We don’t exactly have time for this.”
“It’s one of those things you have to realize on your own.” El shrugged.
“And we weren’t worried,” Tin added. “We knew you’d get there.”
“Well, I had some help.” I smiled at Max. “Thank you. And thank you all for putting up with me, and for standing up for me with that dick Brian, and for being patient even though I nearly ruined Christmas.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. You saved it.” Max pulled the snow globe out of Tin’s pocket and held it up for us all to see.
It was now constantly glowing, the staggeringly detailed scene inside positively alive. The Christmas tree forest was vibrant and verdant; the little cottage was lit up from the inside, the chimney smoking; and the sleigh in front was shiny red—there was even a little blanket on the seat. The snow wasn’t swirling around and settling in fat chunks the way it did in other snow globes. It was falling from the “sky”—just appearing at the top of the globe and drifting down to kiss the tops of the trees, the roof of the cottage, the soft ground.
“Now we’re in business.” Tin rubbed his hands together.
“Fully charged, baby!” El held his fist out, and Tin bumped it. He did the same to Max, then me.
“Great job, Sadie.” Max kissed me on the cheek, and I smiled, mumbling thanks at the ground.
On the bit of sidewalk in the middle of our little group, magic began to swirl. My eyes widened, and we all took a small step back. Uncertain, I looked around at the elves, but they all had happy smiles on their faces, so at least I knew that whatever was happening wasn’t dangerous.
This magic was just as brilliant and sparkling as the white, red, and gold magic I’d seen from them, but it didn’t have a particular color. It was kind of iridescent, glinting with every color imaginable all at once. Mesmerizing.
As the glittering, swirling magic faded, a form became clear in the middle of the flurry.
“Cutting it close, you three.” The Elf propped her hands on her hips and eyed El, Tin, and Max with an amused look.
At three feet tall, with pointed ears and pointed shoes that matched her elaborately embroidered green outfit, she was much closer to what I’d thought Christmas elves looked like before I met the three tall, sexy ones who had taken me on an adventure all over the city. Her big eyes seemed to sparkle permanently, and she was somehow both childlike and old and wise looking at the same time.
“Hey, Shinny.” Tin stepped forward first, giving her a hug. As the others followed suit, I looked around us. People walking out of the department store weaved around our odd little group, but no one was sparing us a glance. It was as if having a magical being appear out of thin air in a cloud of glitter were totally normal. Of course no one had seen her—they probably still couldn’t.
“Sadie.”
At the sound of my name pronounced in her high yet distinguished voice, I turned back to face her. She was looking right up at me, a knowing smile on her face.
“Hello. So nice to meet you.” I extended my hand, and she shook it with her small one. Her hand felt warm, and my palm tingled pleasantly when she pulled away.
“That was touch and go for a while there, but I’m glad you got it in the end,” she said.
“Oh, thanks.” I cleared my throat, feeling awkward for nearly derailing something so important.
“None of that now,” she chided, even wagging her finger up at me. “No harm, no foul. But you’ve left yourselves with no time to get back to the sleigh.”
“Oh, shit.” I checked my watch. It was quarter to midnight. There was no longer a crowd on the street, just the last few shoppers heading home. The skating rink and Christmas market were closed, and the store was getting ready to close too. The city was finally winding down, ready to go to sleep and greet Christmas in the morning.
But they might be waking up to nothing under their trees. We’d never make it back to my apartment by midnight, and I had no idea how long El needed to fix the issue with the sleigh.
My shoulders slumped. We’d failed after all.
I looked up to say sorry to the guys, but they didn’t look worried in the slightest. The three of them stood with their hands in their pockets, easy smiles on their faces, their postures relaxed.
“Psst.” Shinny nudged me with her elbow and winked, then stage-whispered, “That’s why I’m here. Thought I might give you one last push to get the job done.”
Without waiting for any kind of response, she held her hands out at her sides, palms up, and her iridescent magic appeared again. This time, it swirled around all of us.
The magic tingled a little as it flitted over my skin, making the loose hair at my temples flutter. I started to feel an odd kind of weightlessness, exhilarating and a little disconcerting at the same time. Tin was the closest, so I grabbed on to his arm with both hands and plastered myself to his side.
He chuckled and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, drawing me into his chest. Over his shoulder, I watched the glittering magic intensify until the city street completely disappeared from view.
And then we were back where we started—in the dingy parking lot at the back of my building—as the magic once again faded to nothing.
“Good luck!” Shinny’s voice floated on the breeze, disappearing with the last sparks of magic.
I slowly backed out of Tin’s embrace, clutching my stomach and holding on to his arm with one hand. That particular mode of transport was certainly efficient, but it had left me feeling a bit queasy.
“You OK, Sadie?” Max asked.
“It’s best not to think about it too hard.” El stepped forward. “It’ll only make the nausea worse. Tin?”
He held his hand out, and Tin reached into his pocket to hand him the globe.
With another deep breath of icy air, I released Tin’s arm. We were standing right by the askew dumpsters at the back of the lot, the one dim streetlight flickering in and out.
Max helped El pull the tarp back, revealing the sleigh, and El immediately hunched down at the back of it. He fiddled around for several minutes while the three of us waited patiently. After a series of clangs, whirrs, and dings from the sleigh and a string of grunts, curses, and growls from El, he straightened up with a satisfied hum and flashed us a grin, wiping his hands with the greasy rag.
We came around the side of the sleigh to look. The engine—if I could call it that—looked like something between a steampunk engine and a fantastical abstract painting, but it was all bright and glimmering. Cogs, wheels, pipes, and steaming things were somehow connected to all manner of twisted, glittering parts in gold, silver, and red. In the middle of it all sat the snow globe. The elaborately carved base was slotted into its spot, and the glowing ball protruded from between a bullhorn-looking thing emitting shimmery green steam and something that looked like a metallic candy cane.
I had no idea what any of it was or what it did.
After staring at it for a few moments, I scratched my head and looked around at the guys. “What now?”
“We need to jump-start it,” El said.
Max reached into his coat and pulled out the pouch he’d been using to collect Christmassy items from
all the places we’d visited. He tugged the drawstring open. “Here we go.”
Tin reached over and pulled out the little mitten El had collected at the Christmas concert, then held it out as if offering it to the sleigh engine. Once it was in the light of the snow globe, the glow intensified, iridescent Christmas magic sparkled and swirled, and then the mitten was gone—for lack of a better explanation, sucked into the globe.
Max passed him the program with all the carols in it, and Tin repeated the process—glow, magic swirl, gone. The pine tree sprig and tuft of reindeer fur went next, and I smiled, remembering how soft and warm the fur had felt under my hand as I stroked it in the woods.
The little bells jingled as Max pulled out the reindeer ears from the party and passed them to Tin. The cookies went next, but not before Tin took a sneaky little bite, making me laugh.
An icy gust of wind had me pulling El’s coat tighter across my body, but my fascination with this process helped me ignore the cold for the most part.
El rubbed the top of my arm for warmth as he stepped forward and twisted his hand over the top of the pouch. His golden magic sparkled and drew out a swirling stream of the Christmas faery’s green glitter, sending it sailing into the snow globe.
I watched with wide eyes and a mesmerized smile pulling at my lips. We were all silent during this process—something about it felt special, as if it demanded a certain level of quiet reverence.
“It’s empty.” Max broke the silence, holding the pouch upside down and shaking it before tucking it away.
“Oh! Here!” Tin snapped his fingers and reached into the inside pocket of his coat to pull out a length of red-and-white-striped wrapping ribbon. He added it to the globe.
“That’s right.” Max smiled and pulled out the pebble Snowie had given us, adding that too.
We all turned to El. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a flat, round object, about six inches in diameter.
I burst out laughing. “Is that the automatic floss dispenser?”
“Yep.” He grinned, looking satisfied with himself. “It may not be that traditional, but useless gifts have become a part of Christmas for many people.” He flicked his wrist, throwing the item into the glow. The globe sparkled with magic and accepted his offering.
It Started With a Sleigh Page 10