Dear Santa: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

by Lulu Pratt

  “Just a fling,” I say. “You know how it goes.”

  “I do. And that didn’t look anything like a fling to me.”

  When I glance at Margot, she’s looking at me over the rims of her glasses, and I feel like I’m on the spot. But I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t owe her anything. So, I shrug again and turn my attention back to my work, focusing hard. Eventually, Margot turns her attention back to her work, too.

  God, could today go any worse? I didn’t expect him to arrive at work. The more I think about it, the angrier I become again. I told him I didn’t want to speak with him. Who is he to barge into my place of work and bother me where I can’t get away from him? Well, I did get away, but he wasn’t welcome, and it’s not fair of him to corner me like that.

  When I decide I want to talk to him, I want to have the liberty to set up a meeting with him and talk about things. I want to be able to prepare. Everything about today was uncalled for, and I feel like he just made it all that much worse because now, I don’t only feel betrayed, I feel like a coward, too.

  Chapter 36

  Graham

  It’s been a long day. I spent my lunch break driving to Sarah’s workplace instead of eating and now I am paying the price. I rush home to get some dinner and clear my thoughts.

  No matter how hard she pushes me away, I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t stop wanting her back in my life. I know I should probably give up. If a woman goes to the lengths of hiding from you in the bathroom, it’s usually a sign that you should quit.

  But I can’t forget about Sarah. When I close my eyes, she’s everywhere. When I try to go about my life, she’s in the small things around me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at snow again the same way, and that shit comes every year.

  Christmas has a different meaning for me now, too, and even though it won’t be back until next year — along with the snow — the decorations are still up everywhere, and I see her in every colorful Christmas ball and angel decoration I see.

  I’m in love with her. There’s no denying it. I’ve known for a while, but I’ve stopped fighting it now. It’s a losing battle, anyway. I’m in love with her, and I might be for a while, still.

  I’m lying on my bed, and instead of pushing the thoughts of her away like I have been the whole day, I embrace them now. I see her eyes before me, dark and liquid and beautiful. Her light brown hair hangs over her shoulders, framing her delicate face, and when she smiles at me, I want to kiss those lips. Every time. And Sarah smiles a lot.

  It’s a pity she won’t speak to me. I was upset about that at first. I needed to be able to justify myself. I’m starting to accept the fact that she won’t speak to me, and that she wants nothing to do with me. I can only be upset for so long before the adrenaline starts to subside, and I must accept things the way they are.

  I wish she would hear me out. I would like to explain to her what happened, and why I acted the way I acted. I’m ready to tell her everything, even the parts about Britney. She can know now. She’s already done all the math.

  I feel like an idiot for lying to her. I don’t know why I thought I could get away with it. When we were stuck in the snow, it was easy. She couldn’t go to my place and find out for herself what was going on — like she eventually did. But I should have told her when I knew that we were going home. I should have told her the truth and let the pieces fall where they may, instead of being a total idiot and hiding it from her like I thought I could get away with it.

  By being sly, I lost her.

  And I loved being with her. We get along so well. We have so much in common. We like the same movies, we both enjoy board games and the outdoors. It’s rare to find a woman who’s not high maintenance, who can get her hands dirty and who will exert herself. Sarah is real. I’ve been with so many women who weren’t. Yes, it was just sex with them, which was why I didn’t care, but because of how real things were with Sarah, I started wanting more with her.

  I think back to the nights we spent together. I slept with her twice, and both times had been pure ecstasy. Sarah is completely comfortable in her own skin. It’s not often you come across a woman like that. Women are often self-conscious and unhappy with their bodies. I can’t see any of that in Sarah. She seems to be confident, and that just adds to her beauty.

  That confidence makes her amazing in bed, too. A woman who doesn’t feel like she has anything to hide is open to so much more once the clothes come off. And God, when her clothes come off, I sit up and beg.

  Her body is perfect — curvy and trim, and her breasts are the perfect size. Her waist is so small, I can almost stretch one hand across it, and her hips widen out beautifully.

  I’m getting horny just thinking about her body. I think back to the night she came to my room and woke me up. It was such a treat. It was every man’s fantasy.

  And it was real.

  When I close my eyes, I can still feel her hot fingers on my shaft, her tender kiss as she leaned over me to wake me up.

  And then her lips closing around my dick, soft and warm. Her tongue swirled around the head, and it was hard not to lose my load right then.

  My dick is starting to get hard, thinking about the sex we had. I reach into my pants and tug at it, trying to get comfortable in the space that gets smaller when I get hard. I undo my pants to give myself room, and I tug at myself again. My hands on my flesh feel good. Not nearly as good as when Sarah touches me, but I’m turned on, and I want a release.

  I palm myself and start rubbing my hand up and down my shaft. I imagine it’s Sarah touching me, holding me. I picture her closing her lips around my cock and pushing me into her mouth as she rolls her eyes up to look at me. God, it’s hot when she’s on her knees in front of me, giving me a perfect view of her tits on either side of my dick as I slide in and out of her mouth.

  I jack myself off harder, pumping my hand up and down with smooth, steady strokes. I picture Sarah on top of me. Her legs straddle my hips, and her pussy swallows my cock whole. She bucks her hips, riding me harder and harder. Her hands are on my chest as she holds herself up. She’s gasping and moaning, and I love the sounds that come out of her mouth when I’m fucking her.

  God, I want her for real. Fucking myself with my hand is wholly unsatisfying compared to what it’s like to be with Sarah, and I have a feeling other women will be unsatisfying, too. I only want her now. She’s become my addiction.

  My orgasm builds, my balls tighten, and I think about nailing Sarah from behind, pounding into her so that her ass jiggles. It’s a sight for sore eyes, seeing her cheeks wobble back and forth as I fuck her. I love it when her body responds to me.

  I come in my hand, releasing with a cry as I give myself one final tug. I pump hot liquid all over my shirt, and when I’m done, I curse at the mess I’ve made.

  I pull off the shirt and dry my cock with it before I toss it in the laundry hamper. I lay back on the bed when it’s over, breathing a little harder than normal, but I’m not spent. I’m not even satisfied. I got a release, and it took the edge off, but it didn’t help at all with my craving for Sarah. I doubt that will ever go away. Unless I have her, I’m not going to be satisfied ever again.

  There’s nothing as torturous as knowing that, and not being able to do anything about it.

  Chapter 37

  Sarah

  The following day, I’m starting to feel bad about how I acted. I hid in the restroom from a would-be boyfriend like a child, instead of confronting him and finding out what it was he wanted to say to me. Maybe he came to arrange a time to pick up the rest of my things from the cabin. It’s not like I was answering my phone or anything.

  But he did say I could stay there if I needed. Then again, he could have texted.

  God, I’m driving myself crazy thinking about this from every angle, and I hate it. I text Graham.

  Can I come get my stuff tomorrow? Larry has the day off. He can help me.

  I’m nervous about what he might r
eply. I don’t know if he’ll be hostile or difficult after my behavior yesterday. I wonder if I should apologize, but I feel embarrassed, and he doesn’t deserve an apology, anyway.

  Sure, let me know a time.

  His reply doesn’t say any more. I’m surprised. I half expected him to either say something about yesterday or to try to speak to me again, to ask for more.

  He’s not doing either, and I feel a little let down. Why, I wonder? I was so angry with it all this time, but now, I realize I wanted it. It doesn’t make sense. I have to figure out what I feel about this guy and stick to it. I can’t want him to chase after me and be angry when he does, or want him to leave me alone and then be disappointed when he does.

  Of course, what I really want is for him to be the man I thought he was, to be the guy who didn’t lie to me or evict me before Christmas. But that’s just not going to happen.

  I call Larry and arrange a time with him before I text Graham again. When Graham responds, it’s with a simple, “ok,” and I feel even more depressed than before.

  This feeling is awful. I hate being heartbroken. When Jacob and I split up, the feeling was so intense, I did everything in my power never to feel like that again. I kept everyone at arm’s length. It worked until recently, and it would have continued working if I didn’t fall for Graham.

  But there’s nothing I can do about that. The heart wants what it wants, no matter how logical I am about it. And my heart wanted him. I refuse to admit to myself that I still want Graham. I won’t give him that satisfaction, even if he doesn’t know about it. I won’t let him win.

  But knowing that a part of me still wants to be with him after what he did to me makes me feel horrible. I’m depressed because I feel like I can’t have him now, and I’m angry because of what he did to me.

  And no matter what I feel, none of the emotions is positive.

  I’m nervous about seeing him again. When he came to the school, I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know what I wanted to say to him. I didn’t know what he would want to say to me, and it scared me. I couldn’t deal with it then. Now, I’m sitting down and thinking about everything I might want to say to him and to ask him so that I’m prepared.

  I want to know why he did it. I want to know why he thought he could mess around with me like that, and why he thought he could keep it a secret from me. Lying is not just wrong in my eyes, it’s also a sign that the liar underestimates my intelligence, thinking I won’t find out.

  I doubt it’s what Graham thought, but it makes me angry nevertheless. If there’s one thing I just can’t stand after everything that happened with Jacob, it’s a liar.

  Now, when I see Graham again, I will be ready for him. I will know what I want to say to him, know how I feel, and he won’t be able to trick me with his good looks or his charm or the way he seems to understand me in every way. I won’t let him make me feel as special as he does that he tricks me into thinking he cares as much as I thought he did. I will stand firm, and I will hear him out before telling him how it is.

  That he’s not welcome in my life anymore.

  Just thinking about saying those words to him makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I don’t know if it’s because of how betrayed I feel or how heartbroken I am.

  When I finish my work for the day, I have a bit of time to myself before I have to leave. I open my web browser and search for a property rental page. I need to find a place to live. I initially said no to living with Monica because staying on her couch would be imposing on her, and uncomfortable for me when their place was so small. I ended up on their couch, anyway, and I was right.

  I feel like I’m intruding and being a burden on them. The place is too small for me and my belongings. I need to get out from under their feet as soon as I can.

  There aren’t a lot of places available. No one is thinking about moving so soon after the holidays. I bookmark a few places that I want to go look at. I don’t feel great about any of them, but I need to find something.

  Besides, moving to a new place would be final. It would be closing the chapter on Graham for good, although maybe that’s what I need. I still don’t know if it’s what I want, but I think it’s what I need.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” I scold myself. To move on from this, to pick myself up like it didn’t happen, is exactly what I need. I’ve been moping around about this guy for far too long, much longer than he deserves, and I will pick myself up and carry on without him. I’ve been alone for a long time. I can do it again.

  I ignore the feeling that I don’t want to be alone again, and I push it as deep down as I can.

  I will put myself at the top of my priority list again.

  Chapter 38

  Graham

  I don’t usually go bar-hopping, but after I get a text message from Sarah, asking me if she can pick the rest of her stuff up from the cabin, I need a drink. The last time I was at the bar, I was dressed as Santa and about to meet the woman of my dreams. It’s strange how quickly things can change — how they can get better and then worse again.

  The place I go for my drink opens early and stays open late. They have happy hour drinks, good food and fast service. These are the things I need right now.

  When I walk into the bar, it’s filled with people, and the atmosphere is cheery. It doesn’t match my mood, but this is exactly what I need — a reason to forget. I’m tired of sitting by myself, waiting for Sarah to reach out to me. When she messaged me today, it was just more of the same, when I was hoping for something else. Of course, why would it be different? When I went to see her at the school where she works, she hid from me in the restroom. That sends a clear enough message to any man, even one as stubborn as me.

  I consider ordering a bottle of something strong, but that would make me look desperate. Sure, I am desperate, but I don’t need the world to know. So, I order a whiskey and tell the bartender I don’t want my glass to run dry. The first glass does nothing for me. The second glass makes me think that maybe there is a little bit of hope. When I’m on my third glass, someone claps me on the shoulder.

  “You’re drinking that whiskey like it’s water,” Joe says, sitting down next to me.

  “Are you following me?” I joke.

  Joe chuckles. “Your jokes have always been shit when you drink.” He orders himself a whiskey, too. “So, are you only drinking whiskey, or are you up for some shots? Unless it’s a school night.”

  “I don’t think school nights ever stopped me, even when I had school.”

  Joe laughs and orders us two tequilas. We throw them back, and I wave for another. Tequila is a surefire way to get drunk.

  That’s much better. The alcohol burns through my veins, making me feel light and airy, and suddenly, all my problems are farther away. This is what I was looking for.

  Joe and I joke around, talking shit and drinking more. I’m not sure if Joe is getting drunk, he seems to be quite on top of things, but I don’t care. When I arrived, I worried about what others would say. Now, I don’t care that I might be hanging on the bar like a cartoon drunk. I’m just holding myself up, I tell myself.

  “So, what have you been doing with yourself lately?” I ask Joe.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Joe asks. “It was Christmas. I’ve been huddled up with my family like everyone else. Where have you been?”

  I shrug. Right, Christmas. How can I forget?

  “I guess I was just cooped up. In my cabin outside of town. With a woman.”

  Joe whistles through his teeth. “There’s the Graham I know and love. I thought it was strange that you rejected that woman at the bar that night. You were just waiting for better things to come along, weren’t you?” Joe laughs, but I don’t find it funny.

  “Something better came along, all right. And then she fucked right off again. Now I’m here, drinking like an asshole in the bar alone.”

  Joe raises his eyebrows. “I’m not going to point out that I’m here. Obviously, this woman has you all twisted up. What
did she do?”

  “It wasn’t her. It was me.” Joe probably doesn’t want to hear the sad story about how I messed up my love life, but I’m drunk, and he decided to join me. “But you should have seen her, Joe. She was everything — beautiful, funny, clever — you’ve never met a woman like this. And I had her, man. I had her right here.” I hold up my hand as if I’m holding onto something. “And now she’s gone.”

  “Wow,” Joe says. “I’ve never heard you speak about a woman like that. In fact, I’ve never heard you speak about a woman at all. Usually, it’s just a hit-and-run, right? Fuck them and get out?”

  I nod my head. “That’s exactly what it was like before. It was easier not to get attached. The women I was with weren’t worth it anyway. But this one…” I sigh. “There’s nothing I can do about it. She wants nothing to do with me.”

  “I’m not going to ask what you did. We’re men. We fuck up. But if you’re really that serious about her, go after her.”

  I laugh bitterly. “Didn’t you just hear me? She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  Joe shakes his head. “Look, the way you’re painting it for me, she’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of girl. Those don’t come along often, and if you don’t sweep her off her feet, someone else will. Trust me, if you know she’s a good thing, someone else will, too.”

  “That’s not what I want to hear,” I say. I’m getting angry. Not at Joe, at but myself, at the truth he is speaking.

  “You’re drunk, Graham. Listen to what I’m saying. Go after her. Get her back.”

  My anger fades, and I realize what he said to me. Yes, I am drunk. But not drunk enough to forget that I’ve broken whatever we could have had.

  “I can’t,” I say. “You don’t understand. I really fucked up. I lied to her, man. I let her believe one thing when the opposite was true. I mean, I wasn’t trying to trick her or anything. It all just happened. But that doesn’t make it any less wrong.”