by Alina Jacobs
“Just to remind everyone, the rankings were determined by a combination of interviews with employees, surveys of existing employees, an inventory of the activities each firm has been engaged in over the year, and then our wonderful committee’s work in visiting each company and getting a feel for the businesses’ cultures and values. That being said, for the last couple of years, Holbrook Enterprises has dominated. However, now there’s a new reindeer at the head of the pack!”
Everyone groaned.
“And that reindeer is Quantum Cyber. Some of the comments from employees were as follows: 'Coolest CEO, literally.' And yes, Owen, I did pay money to see you dunked in a tank of ice water. It's shocking that you’re still alive and with us today. Now, we don’t do trophies, because that’s weird, but you get bragging rights and your picture on the cover of next month's issue. So don’t eat too many sweets over the holidays, eh, Owen?”
“You did it!” Holly gushed, applauding. She rose onto her toes to kiss me.
“Thanks to you!”
“I wondered what your secret sauce was,” Grant Holbrook said, swaggering over to me, hand outstretched. “Now I see it’s her. Holly, you ever want to come work for me, just let me know. You already have a fan club in my house.”
If Grant was implying it was because of all the sexy Instagram outfits, I was seriously going to punch him.
But Grant seemed to know what I was thinking. He smiled wryly. “Every woman in my family is now subscribed to the Taste My Muffin baking subscription box. When I tried to take a cookie, because I mean it was a whole box of baked goods, I was told that I should have bought my own.”
“Of course you should buy your own,” his wife Kate exclaimed. She patted me on the arm then clinked her glass to Holly's. “Maybe you can open up a café, Holly.”
“I was hoping to convince Chloe to open a Grey Dove Bistro location in my tower,” Grant continued, “but I hear she's not opening any more franchises at the moment.”
“Yes,” I confirmed, “she said she’s tapped out and doesn’t want to dilute the brand.”
“Sounds like an opportunity for you then,” Grant said to Holly. “You ever want to open a restaurant in my tower, let me know. You can have as much space as you want! Because I’m definitely taking the title back from you next year, Owen!”
We milled around and talked to people for the rest of the evening. Everyone seemed impressed with Holly. Apparently they were all watching The Great Christmas Bake-Off. Several people were even subscribed to her Taste My Muffin subscription box.
“Man, my feet hurt,” Holly said after the crowd had thinned considerably. “And I was expecting more dancing for a holiday party.”
“People just get together and schmooze,” I said. “And talk about potential business deals.”
“I barely got to eat any food.”
“There’s a lot left,” one of the servers said, coming by with a tray. “Eat up!”
Holly took several of the mini crab cakes and two more drinks.
“You don’t want one?” she said, holding up one of the cocktails.
“I need to be alert for the next surprise.”
“Oooh! I thought this and the clothes were the surprise.”
“This was work. I have something special planned for the two of us. You're going to love it. Are you ready?”
“Take us away!”
My silver Aston Martin One-77 was waiting in front of the hotel. I helped Holly into the passenger seat then pulled the car out onto the road. It was late and traffic was fairly light, mainly Ubers taking people to nightclubs.
“What is the surprise?” Holly asked. She’d taken a large plate of snacks to go and two cocktails that one of the servers had poured into a to-go cup.
“We get a lot of these requests,” the server had said. “Guys don’t want their tipsy girlfriends spilling their drinks in their expensive cars.”
I had generously tipped the server because one, it was an ingenious idea, and two, I didn’t want ants in my car.
“Are we going to a petting zoo?” Holly guessed. “Like a Christmas-themed one with penguins and reindeer and I don’t know what other Christmas animals there are.”
“No,” I snorted, “we are not going to a petting zoo.”
65
Holly
We were leaving the city. The skyline glowed behind us as the car roared down the highway. Owen had one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel, the other on my leg, caressing it. He pulled off several exits from town. “Ignore the fact that I’m taking you to a suburb,” he said. “But in my defense, it's a nice one.” He slowed down as we drove into a more residential area. There were huge fancy houses and—
“Christmas lights,” I breathed.
Owen slowed the car to a crawl and turned on the radio. “Silent Night” played softly from the sound system.
“It's so magical,” I said, tearing up. “When I was a little girl, I always helped my grandmother put up Christmas lights. She never took them down; we would just add more and more every year. But I haven't put up Christmas lights since she died. My mom and stepfather were not big Christmas people.”
“My mom would make us all put up lights,” Owen said in the dark. “She wanted the house to look perfect. She would stand out there with a level and make sure the lights were exact. It was miserable. She was like that with everything; you had to be perfect to be worthy of her love. She's still like that, I suppose.”
“I'm sorry,” I said, holding his hand.
He squeezed my hand. “But these lights are pretty, especially since I didn't have to put them up!”
While my grandmother’s lights had had wholesome charm, the lights in this neighborhood were otherworldly. Every house was framed in lights. Several even had whole Christmas scenes in their yards. The softly falling snow made it feel like I was in another world.
“That one's beautiful,” I said, pointing to a house that had all blue and white lights. The homeowner had carefully outlined the tree branches in lights. The roofs were trimmed in icicle lights, with the windows outlined as well. “This is unreal. They must have spent forever.”
“Yeah,” Owen said, “and speaking of petty competitions, they all try to one-up each other for the holidays.”
“Still,” I said, “it’s nice that people can enjoy it, you know. You just make something beautiful for everyone to enjoy.”
We drove around for several songs more. Every house in the neighborhood was decorated in lights.
“This was lovely. Thank you,” I said to Owen. “It's nice to be reminded of what Christmas is all about. That it's about reaching out to your family and your neighbors and doing something to make the world a more beautiful, happier place.”
“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Owen said quietly after a moment.
“I do have one, okay two more presents,” Owen admitted as we headed back to Manhattan.
“You don’t have to keep doing stuff for me,” I protested.
“Really, part of this present is for me.”
“Oh, it’s that kind of present!” I teased.
The fast car made the trip in no time. It was also a short trip, I realized, because we didn’t go all the way to Owen's tower.
“Why are we stopping here?” I asked as we pulled up in front of a fancy historic building.
“We're staying a night in a hotel. I need some time with you just to myself, No Rudolph, no bake-off.”
“You just left your puppy at home by himself!”
“Walker went to go stay with him. I'm sure they're passed out on the couch. Apparently there was a lot of wedding cake left. Walker's probably eaten a whole tier all by himself,” Owen said as he handed the keys to one of the valets. The valets seemed impressed with the car, and I heard them arguing over who was going to drive it.
“This is one of the Greyson Hotel Group boutique hotels,” Owen explained as we walked into the grand building. “It was built in the twenties, right before the real
estate crash.”
The hotel manager greeted us and led us through the beautiful art deco building to the elevators. The Christmas decorations were, fittingly, in the opulent art deco style: swoopy lines of garland, dramatic lighting, and excessive amounts of glitter, gold, and feathers. The decor continued up the grand staircase and into the elevator, which had an actual elevator operator.
“I booked us the whole suite,” Owen said as the manager opened the door.
“Please let us know if there’s anything we can do for you, Mr. Frost, ma’am,” the hotel manager said.
“Am I that old?” I whispered to Owen after the hotel manager left.
He nuzzled my neck. “You're sexy as hell, and he was a little intimidated.”
I laughed, and Owen picked me up, swinging me around the room and kissing me.
“But what does the bedroom look like, I wonder,” I said, slowly undoing my dress.
Owen picked me back up and carried me to the bedroom. On the bed was a large box wrapped in gold paper and tied with a big red bow.
“Is that for me?” I clapped my hands.
Owen watched in amusement as I carefully removed the wrapping paper. “Are you planning on saving that?”
“I might use it in a scrapbook.” He raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” I said. “I may or may not have a whole plastic container full of carefully folded wrapping paper that I am absolutely going to use. One day. In the very near future.”
Inside the box was the most delicate and softest piece of lingerie I’d ever seen.
“Did you have little elves make it?” I marveled. “It’s so soft!” Normally all the lacy costumes I bought online in drunken shopping binges tended to not be made with the best-quality materials, featuring instead itchy lace and stiff polyester.
I went into the bathroom to change.
“Thoughts and prayers that this actually fits!” I muttered. The lingerie fit like a glove. The delicate snowflake-patterned lace started high on my neck then curved around my tits, framing them. In between and down my torso was a delicate mesh. The larger snowflake mesh reappeared around my hips.
“I look like a sexy snowflake!” I undid my hair to let it bounce around my shoulders and walked out into the bedroom. Owen was standing there in only his boxer briefs.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” I purred. “Though I bet I look a lot sexier now than I did in wet hair and a bathrobe.”
Owen approached me and pressed the softest kisses up my neck and along my jaw as his fingers skimmed the lace.
“You still looked very sexy then,” he whispered, kissing my mouth as his hands tightened around my waist. The kiss deepened, and he pushed one hand between my legs. I moaned, bucking against him.
“Your tits are amazing in that,” he said, moving from my mouth down to the swell of my breasts, sucking my tits through the delicate fabric, his hand still stroking me between my legs. “I should have bought several of these,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“Because I’m about to rip this off of you,” he said, grabbing the fabric then ripping it right down the middle. My tits exposed, he returned to lavishing attention on them.
“You didn’t rip the most important part,” I whispered as my hips ground against his hand.
Owen kissed his way back up to my mouth then grabbed my hips and pushed me over the bed. Positioning himself behind me, he knelt, pressing his face between my legs and licking my aching pussy through the thin lace, his breath hot against me. He leaned back. His hand rubbed me through the lace. Then his fingers crooked, pulling at the delicate fabric. There was a tear, and then his tongue was back, licking me through the slit he’d just torn in the lace. I moaned, rolling my hips back against him. He held me steady, licking my pussy and teasing my clit.
“I want you,” I begged.
Owen continued to stroke my pussy as he rolled on a condom. Then he grabbed my hips and thrust into me. I cried out; I was wet and aching for him. His huge cock filled me, giving me the friction I needed.
One large hand left my hip to rub my clit. I leaned on the bed, legs trembling, as Owen fucked me, letting out little whimpering pants every time he thrust his huge cock into me.
He leaned over me, his hand covering my tit, teasing and pinching the nipple as he fucked me. I moaned loud in my throat. I spread my legs wider, needing him to give me every inch of his thick cock. His hand moved back to my clit, rubbing furiously. My whole body tightened. I was so close! He jackhammered into me, my tits rubbing against the bedspread, two of his fingers on my clit.
I came with a loud cry and felt Owen come in me a second later. He pulled me up onto the bed with him, wrapping his muscular arms around me. I rubbed my nose in the valley between his pecs.
“That was a very nice surprise!”
66
Owen
Holly was still asleep when I woke up the next morning. I eased out of bed to take a shower. I had one final surprise for her, and I wanted to look presentable for it. Once in the shower, I let the freezing water run down my back. Contrary to popular belief, cold showers are very good for one’s circulation.
The door to the bathroom opened.
“Want some company?”
“If you are naked, you can come literally anywhere I am,” I told her over the sound of the spray.
“I know you can make me come anywhere!” Holly teased, sliding open the glass door to the huge shower.
She waved a condom at me as she stepped in. Then she screamed and immediately almost slipped. I braced her and set her on the bench.
“Why is it so cold?” she chattered. The water temperature had made her nipples tight and erect. “Turn the hot water on!”
I leaned over her. “Let me warm you up another way. Sex is better in cold water. If it’s too hot, you’ll faint.”
She clung to me as I kissed her. She made a needy sound when I leaned back.
“Warmer?”
“Much,” she said and licked her lips. Then she stared not up at me but directly ahead. “I guess the cold water hasn’t done you any disservice.”
“The cold gets the blood flowing,” I said.
Then she did look up at me. Holly was the picture of desire—her wet hair in her face, the fullness of her tits, her perky nipples. She leaned forward, her legs spreading slightly and giving me a flash of dark pink.
She put her lips around my cock. I hissed as she slowly took me into her mouth inch by inch then moved her head back, sliding my cock out of her mouth. I bit down a curse as she licked the slit on the tip then took me into her mouth again, her head bobbing as she hummed. It was all I could do not to combust. I gently massaged her scalp, loving the way her hair tangled around my fingers.
I blinked, the cold water running down my back. The humming echoed around the marble shower.
“Are you singing 'Jingle Bell Rock'?”
She looked up at me craftily and winked. That was it. I needed her now.
I pulled her off my cock. She squeaked as I pulled her forward on the bench, spreading her legs then stroking her pussy, the heat a sharp contrast from the cold of the shower.
She was wet, and she moaned when I rubbed her clit as I put on the condom. I grabbed her hips, angling her toward me as I thrust my hard cock into her tight, hot pussy. Holly wrapped her arms around me, kissing me.
“Your thick cock feels so good in my pussy and my mouth,” she whispered, planting sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I want every thick, hard inch of you.”
I kissed her hungrily as I fucked her.
“You like it when I talk dirty, don't you?” she panted in my ear.
I couldn’t fuck her as fast as I wanted to, since I didn’t need to slip and fall. I pulled out of her, and she moaned as I turned her around to get better leverage. I bent her over, and she spread her legs. I pressed my mouth to her hot pussy, licking her, teasing her clit with my tongue.
“Fuck me,” she demanded, her hips making needy little circles.
&nbs
p; I stood back up, grabbing her hips, then I jackhammered into her. Holly leaned over the bench, moaning loudly as I filled her with my cock. She begged for every inch, and I gave it to her.
I tangled my fingers in her hair as I fucked her. Another hand reached around, teasing her clit, making her whimper. I knew she was close from the way her pussy tightened around my cock. I hissed as I felt her come around me, then I came too.
“You're right,” Holly said, panting as the cold water washed away the signs of our lovemaking. “Cold showers are very invigorating.”
I wrapped Holly in a huge, fluffy bathrobe and carried her into the living room. There was a full spread of brunch set out along with pitchers of mimosas.
“I figured you might want a brunch that you didn’t have to prepare.”
“Hell yeah! Plus,” she said, “all this sex makes me really hungry.”
“So,” I said carefully as we sat down to eat. “Any plans for after the bake-off?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, taking a bite of her eggs Benedict. “It sort of depends on if I win.”
“Several people seem like they have jobs for you.”
“Yeah…”
“Thinking about opening a restaurant?” I asked, hoping she would declare that she wanted to stay in Manhattan with me.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should travel. If I lose, I’m not sure I want to stay in Manhattan,” she said nonchalantly. “Maybe I’ve flamed out. I was thinking I should take a sabbatical and try to land a job in fine dining in Paris or Milan.”
I tried to keep my face neutral. After everything we shared, she just wants to pack up and move to Paris? What the fuck.
“Interesting.”
She glared at me and said sharply, “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just stay here and mooch off of my friends.”