by Poppy Rhys
“Still here.”
“Sorry, I had to find the information. You got a pen?”
I rushed over to my kitchen nook and fumbled in the drawer for a pen and scrap of paper. “Yep, I’m ready.”
He rattled off a few numbers and letters. “Is everything okay? Did something happen with the elves?”
“All good. Thanks!”
I disconnected and stared down at the paper.
For a split second—a nanosecond, more like—I thought about not calling.
What if I didn’t call this number?
What if I accidentally tossed it into the fireplace?
What if I didn’t hold up my end of the deal and, instead, kept Kye with me forever?
I followed that messed up thought train for a nanosecond. An awfully long, not-really-a-nanosecond nanosecond.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I whispered to myself.
He’d hate me forever.
I’d hate me forever.
But, if Dr. Molina were in my kitchen right now, she’d tilt her head to the side and say, ‘why do you think you want to spend forever with Kye?’
I didn’t.
Or maybe I did.
Maybe I hated him. Maybe he was annoying.
Maybe I despised his Christmas cheer and the fact he decorated my apartment so vexatiously perfect in a way the old me would’ve swooned over.
But maybe I didn’t actually hate him.
Maybe he wasn’t actually annoying.
And, most of all, maybe when we were alone, as much as Kye seemed to dislike me, and as much as I seemed to dislike Kye...
I’d bet credits that maybe he felt the same way I did.
Maybe existing together in the same place, sharing the same space, sharing the same life... would be good.
Really good.
So, there you have it, imaginary Dr. Molina, I thought.
Maybe I didn’t want to be alone, and not just for the stupid Tinsel festivities. Maybe I didn’t want to be alone the rest of the year either.
My fingertips grazed my lips again.
Ugh! I couldn’t think properly. For two days, it was hard to be around Kye and not stare at his mouth or his horns or watch his butt when he walked by.
For two days, we pretended like that kiss didn’t happen. I’d convinced myself it was just part of the act.
Our agreement. The deal.
The deal I was failing to uphold.
I picked up the scrap of paper. This could be it. The string of characters that could set Kye free.
Don’t get me wrong, I wanted that to happen. Truly did. But maybe I just wasn’t ready to see him leave yet.
Suck it up.
I pulled up my comm and tapped against the glass, opening a connection.
It beeped, and beeped, and just when I was about to disconnect, someone answered.
“Elvshkin Inc,” the male voice droned apathetically, “where we put the cheer in your holiday season. How can I direct your call?”
“Um, hi, I’m...”
Shit. My brain went blank. I hadn’t been expecting anyone to answer. I shook my head and arranged my thoughts.
“I’m calling about a gift I received. Is there a way to get in contact with a specific elvshkin?”
He sighed, like he hated his job. My whole life, I’d thought all elves were unnaturally chipper.
Guess I was wrong.
“Do you have the name of the elf?”
My fingertips dug into my forehead. I’d been trying to remember, but for the life of me, I couldn’t. “No, I don’t.”
“When, and on what planet, was this gift received?”
“Dor Nye, during the Elves Day.”
“Territory?”
“Quar Loy.”
“Town?”
“Tinsel.”
“Your name?”
“Holly Zax.”
“Hold please.”
The line cut to a joyful holiday tune in a different language and, suddenly, I commiserated with the disenchanted elf. We were two Scrooges surrounded by people who lived for the winter festivities.
The music cut.
“Miss?”
“Yes?”
“We have no record of a gift given to a Holly Zax. Do you go by another name, perhaps?”
My brows pinched together. How was that possible? I hadn’t dreamed it up. The cube was very real, Kye was definitely real, and it came from an elf on Elves’ Day.
“No, that’s my only name. Are you positive there’s no record?”
“Yes, Miss,” he monotoned, “I’m positive. The only other option—” this was broken up by a laborious exhale, “is to go through the list of elves in Tinsel that day.”
Sounded tedious but, “Okay, let’s do that.”
The elf—whose name I never caught—started droning through the list, none of them sounding familiar.
“Yanni, Bodeen, KanKan...” on he went, occasionally broken up by, stop me any time now. “Percik, Tolby, Nankino, Rook, Rep—”
“Wait! That’s it! Nankino.”
The memory of her introduction drifted back. ‘I’m Nankino, the elvshkin, but you can call me Nan.’
“Yes, Nankino. I’m sure of it.”
“Hold please.”
More cheery music before he cut back in.
“Miss, Nankino isn’t available.”
My shoulders sagged and I rubbed my temple. “Do you know when she’ll be around?”
“She’s not due back at headquarters until New Year’s.”
“What?! But that’ll be too late...” My thoughts raced, a new panic seizing my innards. Had my shameful thoughts jinxed it?
“Too late for what?”
“I... er...” I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. “There’s no way I can reach her? Or get a message to her? It’s extremely important.”
Again, this elf sounded like he had so many other things he could be doing. Better things. More exciting things. Things that didn’t involve helping some human.
“I suppose I could take a message for her, but I can’t guarantee she’ll receive it before New Year’s. This is a busy time of year for Elvshkin Inc.”
“Of course, I understand. Thank you so much.” I rattled off my information, once again stressing how important it was that I talk to Nan before New Year’s.
The line disconnected and I stared at my comm, unsure if he’d heard that last part. “Rude ass...”
“Who?”
Kye shut my apartment door, the bells jingling. I stared at him as he took off his thick black scarf and hung it up. The curve of his nose and pointed ears were red, and his exposed fur was damp from the snow.
I circled around the kitchen island and turned on the kettle. He could probably use a warm cuppa candy cane tea.
And then I snatched a Christmas cookie to gnaw on, so I didn’t have a chance to analyze why I had the urge to warm him up. Because I could think of so many other ways to raise his body temperature.
“Some elf,” I grumbled around a mouthful.
He rounded the island until he stood an arm’s length away. “You spoke to an elf?”
Then, as if he knew exactly the tea I’d been thinking of, he opened the cupboard and grabbed the candy cane tin along with two mugs.
He purposefully bypassed my old reindeer mug at the front and gave me a plain one.
My cold heart felt a stir of heat.
“Yep and, can I just say, whoever they have manning the phones could probably use a nice bottle of whiskey this year.”
Kye grinned. “That delightful, eh?”
“The epitome of ‘merry and bright.’” I pulled myself up to sit on the counter’s edge.
“Sounds like you met your new best friend.”
I squinted to keep myself from laughing. “He might be worse than me.”
“What? No. Impossible.” He slid a mug and steeper toward me. “No one’s more of a Scrooge than you.”
My fingers uncurle
d through the air and I gave a little whatdya-do shrug. “Can’t all be perfect.”
Kye’s deep, exuberant laugh had me cracking a smile. It was so damn contagious and genuine, and I hated him a little more for making me feel and think things I shouldn’t be feeling or thinking.
“You have a nice laugh,” I blurted.
Dammit.
Why did I say that?
****
KYE
To say I’d called myself an idiot a couple hundred times the last while would be an understatement. I’d gone and done what I swore I’d never, ever do again: feel anything—hatred excluded—for another berchta.
Holly’s hand came up to fiddle with the tea tin, and she cleared her throat. I could tell she didn’t mean to say that.
Kinda wish she hadn’t, yet I couldn’t deny I was pleased she thought something about me was nice.
There were plenty of things about her I thought were nice too. Specifically, her nipples that were, once again, easy to make out under her shirt.
“Are you cold or just happy to see me?”
“Huh?” She turned those green eyes on me. Still a headscratcher as to how she kept them from glowing. Then again, certain things about Holly continued to not add up.
My gaze drifted down to her breasts. She followed them, giving up a strange squeaky grunt.
“Pervert.”
The kettle squealed and she jumped. Holly went to grab it off the stove—without a mitt—and hissed, dropping the thing again.
“Motherfff—god, ugh!” she cursed, shaking her hand before cupping it.
“Shit, are you okay?” I snatched a mitt off the counter and quickly set the kettle to the side.
“Yessss!” she said too loud and shoved her hand under the faucet, making pained noises when the cold water hit her fiery red palm.
“That doesn’t look too good,” I mumbled, getting closer to inspect her palm. Her shoulder brushed against my chest, and her wavy red hair perfumed the air around her in a fruity scent I’d found myself craving.
“Ya think?”
Grabbing the first aid kit she had under the sink, I set it on the counter, sifted through it and frowned. “What were you thinking, grabbing a hot kettle without a mitt?”
She laughed, but it was sharp and irritated. “Clearly I wasn’t! This is your fault. If you’d stop looking at my tits, maybe I’d be able to function like a semi-normal person!”
I smirked because the thought of Holly functioning like a ‘semi-normal’ person was humorous—and nearly futile—to imagine. “Don’t think that’s possible, darling.”
“Fuck you, honey. Ahh, god, it stings! I hate you.”
Maybe I shouldn’t laugh, but I did. “Give me your hand.”
Holly glared but turned off the faucet and obliged. I gently blotted the droplets with a towel to dry her skin. I was keenly aware while she watched me apply some salve and wrap her hand in gauzy material.
“Maybe I like staring at your tits,” I finally uttered, because I didn’t know when to shut the hell up it seemed.
A few heartbeats thumped between us and—
Holly jumped me.
SIXTEEN
KYE
It was like a live replay of what happened that night.
That night.
The one where Holly grabbed my fucking horns and I nearly exploded in my pants like an amateur.
She did it now. Wrapped her beautiful damn legs around my waist, curled one hand behind my neck, and gripped my left horn like she wasn’t about to let go.
“Are we—” I mumbled in between Holly’s fervent kisses, “really—” another kiss, “doing this?”
Fuck.
I loved it.
Loved it a little too much, evidenced by my uncomfortably tight pants.
I pressed her against the refrigerator, the Christmas magnets I’d placed sliding off to clatter against the floor.
“Mmmhmmm,” she moaned against my mouth, her breaths warming my tusks. The feeling was strange and addictive. Kissing wasn’t something I’d had much of in the past. It was awkward with tusks but, fuck convenience—I’d take clumsy and feels-damn-good any day.
“Caution—” kiss, nip, moan, “to the wind,” she muttered, driving her hands into my mane and tugging.
The growl that burst out of me took us both by surprise. Holly’s hips worked against me and I couldn’t fucking take it any longer.
I needed us both out of these clothes.
“Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom!” Holly insisted, barely removing her lips from mine.
Guess she needed us out of these clothes too.
As much as I wanted to take her on every surface imaginable in this apartment—maybe even some places outside this apartment too—I didn’t want anything stopping this from happening.
Fuck you, table! You wouldn’t get to break beneath our zealous grinding and ruin my nut!
And, oh yes, it would be zealous. The mental image of Holly’s skin rippling as she pushed back on my cock—
Shit.
I couldn’t think about that.
It’d been a hundred plus years since I’d been with anyone. My blue balls would not fuck this up for us.
The only time Holly let up was to tear off her shirt and flimsy bra somewhere along the way. When I tossed her on the bed, those beautiful mounds jiggled and I lost all thought.
All thought besides cupping them. Squeezing them. Plucking at her pink, rock-hard nipples like they were my favorite instrument.
Those moans.
Those damn moans!
Holly clawed at me, tearing away my shirt, my pants soon following.
“Jeezus,” she breathed, gaze transfixed on my painfully erect length.
“Don’t blow on it,” I warned, “or we’ll both be fucking sorry.”
Her teeth nibbled on her bottom lip, a cheeky grin hiking up one side of her mouth and I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing.
Yeah, I did.
Holly was so damn beautiful. I could admit that. And it wasn’t the fact we were about to commit deliciously explicit acts that had me believing it.
Not even when I tugged at her stretchy leggings only to find out she wasn’t wearing panties.
That wasn’t beautiful.
No.
Fiercely erotic?
Yes.
Hell yes!
“If you never wore panties again,” I kissed up the inside of her velvety thigh, shivering at how she stroked my horns, “I wouldn’t complain. I might have a permanent hard-on, but I wouldn’t complain.”
“Remind me to burn all my panties,” she declared, as she spread her thighs for me.
Again, my brain and lungs stopped communicating as I stared at her pussy, bewitched.
Soft red curls adorned her there. Her lips—that were obscenely puffy and gave me the wild urge to gently bite and suck on them—were damp with slick.
If I’d had any doubt she was a true redhead, the proof lay right before me.
****
HOLLY
I squirmed under his gaze. Squirmed and gently gripped his horns to guide him closer... closer...
His warm breath fanned over my wet folds and I whimpered, already edging. Which was pathetic if I thought about it.
But... it’d been so long since anything male had been this close to kissing my clit that I was, admittedly, too excited. A toy couldn’t compete.
And this was Kye.
Kye, Kye, Kye.
“The way you breathe my name,” he groaned, his tongue sliding against my core, drawing a lewd mewl from me and a wanton roll of my hips. “Keep saying it, Holly.”
Had I said his name aloud? Didn’t matter. I’d say whatever he wanted me to say if it meant he’d give me more of that forked tongue.
“Kye,” I whispered, fighting the urge to trap his face between my legs. “More. Please, more.”
When his warm, slick tongue brushed against my clit for the first time, I thought I said his name too loud. Might�
�ve screamed it.
Stars burst behind my pinched eyelids, my breath hitched, and my back bowed. I hadn’t even come and already I trembled at the exquisite waves of pleasure rolling through me.
When his tongue circled, flicked, and fluttered against my clitoris, I couldn’t spread my thighs wide enough for him. I couldn’t stop grinding against his mouth, tusks be damned.
A rush of warm breath would heat me up just to cool me down when he’d inhale.
That. That was divine.
His name became a rambling prayer on my lips until I opened my eyes and looked down.
It was a mistake.
A gratifying mistake.
Seeing Kye’s long tongue twirl around my most intimate and sensitive bundle of nerves in between gentle sucks of my swollen lips?
I fucking flew apart.
Nothing could stop it.
No amount of pleading with my body to just enjoy this a little bit longer would work.
It wanted this. I wanted this.
I wanted it again, and again, and again. As many times as Kye’s tongue allowed.
My thighs shook and the breath rushed out of me as I rode my orgasm to the very last swell.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous when you come,” Kye rumbled once he hovered over me.
My eyelids were heavy, my body satisfied and tingling, and all I wanted was to feel Kye move against me.
I curled my fingers into his soft chest fur and tugged until he lowered and kissed me with bruising hunger. The taste of myself on his lips drove me crazy and when he let me on top, a wickedness gripped me.
The least I could do was return the favor, right? My fingers grasped his cock—
He grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“What?”
“As much as I’d love to see your lips wrapped around me,” he groaned, swallowing hard, “I won’t last.”
“It’s...” My words died when something brushed my hand. I straddled his thighs and peered down.
A small bump on the top of his cock, near the base, swelled and elongated, comparable to the length of my pinky.
“What’s th—”
It started vibrating.
Oh.
Oh sweet nebulae.
I gawked, my jaw coming unhinged. “You’re like the perfect sex toy...”
“I give you permission to objectify me. Quickly and as soon as possible. Now would be best.”
Excitement spurred me forward and Kye was all too happy to seize my hips and guide me onto his swollen tip. My hands pressed against his chest, nails digging as his cock wedged in.