Santa's Naughty Helpers

by Elizabeth Knox

  “Was it not?”

  “No, it wasn’t.” His face is now still like a statue. I could never read this man. If he was embarrassed, I would never know it. I, on the other hand, have the evidence written all over my face.

  “What was in the original gift?”

  “Something else.”

  “Something that doesn’t go in my ass?”

  His lips twitch and I know I almost have him cracking. Clearing his throat, his gaze moves to a white box on his desk. “I actually have it in here.”

  “So, do I still get it?”

  “Get what?” He seems distracted now, unable to meet my eyes. I wonder what’s going on in his mind.

  “My Christmas gift that doesn’t vibrate.”

  He forces a smile. “Sure, it’s on my desk.”

  “Yes, you already said that. Should I grab it myself? If that gift wasn’t supposed to be here, why did it say to wear this to work tomorrow?”

  Releasing a drawn-out sigh, he pulls on his tie. “Because, it was for someone else who works in the building. I was supposed to hand deliver it myself but fell behind on work.”

  He grabs the white box from his desk, and hands it to me. Grabbing it, I peek through the tissue paper. “This isn’t wrapped as nice as the last gift.”

  “That’s because that was a very special gift. No pair of socks is worth thirty-five-dollar gift wrapping.”

  The socks are green and white striped with words that read, ‘On Santa’s naughty list’.

  I laugh, shoving them back in the box. “Cute. You got me socks?”

  “What did you want, a butt plug?” His eyebrows arch and his lips form into a smirk.

  Shaking my head, I cover my mouth to hide my almost smile. “I didn’t get a note to wear my gift tomorrow.”

  With a loud thud, Gray slams his fist on the desktop and walks behind me. His breath is hot against my neck and his fingers run down my sides, causing a chill to run through me. He is touching me and I should hate it. I should want him to stop, but I don’t.

  He pushes me against the hard-oak desk, pressing his hard cock against my ass. “You haven’t been spreading rumors around the office, have you?”

  I lick my lips, resting my hands over the cold desk. “What rumors, Sir?”

  “About me and someone from another department, or about the gift you got from me?”

  I shake my head, biting my lip to keep from moaning when he blows a warm breath against my neck. “No, Sir. I haven’t told anyone. I brought the gift with me like you asked and I didn’t know about you seeing someone in the building.”

  “Good. Meet me back here in my office with it after everyone leaves.”

  “Yes, Sir,” my voice is raspy and my body has a swarm of nerves over what would happen when I met him later.

  Chapter Seven

  Michael

  Still trying to grasp what just happened, I walk back to my desk on shaking legs. I glance back around me, noticing the last few people here are crowded together laughing and talking, completely oblivious to what just happened between me and Gray in his office. My focus falls back to my computer, taking another look over the design Gray sent me, unable to completely concentrate on what I’m looking at. “Have a good night, Michael,” Linda says before walking to the door.

  The rest of the people in the office follow behind her, waving me goodbye. I peek around the office, making sure they are all gone before reaching for the gift, expecting it to go off in my hands. It doesn’t. The office is suddenly too quiet and it’s almost as if I can hear Gray thinking and nothing good ever comes from leaving him in his office alone for too long. Slamming the desk drawer shut with a loud thud, I hurry to his office, not even bothering to knock. He sits in his chair peering up from his laptop with a devious smile on his face. “Michael, come in. Has everyone left?”

  “Yes, they are all gone. It’s only us two here.” Swallowing hard, I walk closer with the gift bag in my hand. “I have your . . . er . . . gift.”

  He nods, staring at the bag with a curious expression. “So, you did open it. This wasn’t how it was wrapped.”

  “Well, yeah. I thought it was mine. It did have my name on it. I didn’t take it out of the box, if that’s what you’re worried about. You can always have it rewrapped.”

  His chair spins as he stands up, leaning over to reach for the bag. “You sure you didn’t take it out of the box to get a better look at it. Maybe even try it out?”

  Rolling my eyes, I rock on the balls of my feet suddenly feeling flushed when his dark blue eyes drink mine in. “I’m pretty sure. Can I get back to work now? I’d like to get out of here before it gets dark.” I hate driving in the snow when it’s dark.

  “Oh is that right? What’s so important that you need to get to in a hurry? Hot date? You finally try out those dating sites, after interacting with people face to face hasn’t worked for you?”

  My glasses shift against my eyes when I twitch my nose in annoyance. One minute this man has me shoved up against his desk, completely turned on when being pressed against me, and the next he is insulting my dating abilities. “I wasn’t aware I was in here to discuss my dating life. Pretty sure I’m only here to return your gift.”

  “My what?”

  “Your gift. You know your butt plug, which Sonia heard by the way. I am probably never going to talk to her again now. I may even move my desk to the very back. She probably thinks I’m a nut job.”

  His laughter fills the room and I badly want to slap that look of glee off his perfectly sculpted face. “No offense, Michael, but you were never popular before that. She probably already thought you were a nut job. You are the only one who puts up with my insane hours. I guess that’s easy to do though when you don’t have a life.”

  “Whatever, you have it back now. Maybe you will actually get it to the right person this time.”

  “One can only hope. Although, I really do feel this whole experience has only brought us closer.”

  “Oh yeah, maybe we can paint each other’s nails and I can braid your hair next weekend.”

  He laughs again, taking a few steps closer to me. “Oh, Mikey. You always did have an odd sense of humor. Maybe I did give the gift to the right person after all.”

  His fingers trace along my face and I stand there trying not to lean into his toxic touch. It feels rejuvenating against my skin, making my body come more alive. “Mikey.” His eyes burn into mine and it’s like seeing the sun for the first time, sending a rush of heat through me. I swallow hard as he steps closer, tugging on my hair with his fingers, and his lips are so close to mine that I can nearly taste the candy cane on his breath. “This stays between us.”

  When he takes a step back, releasing his grip on me, I’m able to breathe again. But now, my heart is pounding so loudly against my ears, I’m not even sure what I’m saying anymore. “Yes, Sir.”

  I didn’t even mean for those words to come out. They just automatically did. They felt right slipping out of my mouth, rolling off the tip of my tongue.

  Gray never comes out of his office for the next few hours. I keep glancing between the clock and his door the whole time, not even sure how I managed to finish up my work for the day. Instead of waiting to share another awkward walk to the parking garage with Gray, I slip the folder into the box outside his door, grab my stuff, and rush for the door.

  I pull out my phone while in the elevator, messaging my mother about being able to make dinner tomorrow. I plan on turning my phone off in case Gray suddenly forgets he gave me the day off. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened. I’m so engulfed in my phone, I don’t hear anyone coming from behind me. “Sneaking off without saying goodbye, huh? Here I thought we were finally beginning to be friends.”

  Chapter Eight

  Gray

  When I step outside of my office, the lights are all off and the room is completely empty. Michael isn’t anywhere to be found and his socks are left sitting on his desk. I grab them, shove them in m
y pocket, and rush out the door. The lock clicks with the twist of my key and I skip the elevator and race down the stairs instead, knowing it will be faster. Michael is already almost to his car when I reach the garage and he is staring at his phone.

  Him stopping to message someone allows me the chance to catch up and he doesn’t turn around until I say something, almost as if he didn’t hear me coming up from behind him. With an annoyed expression on his face, he shoves his phone in his pocket, tugging his blue scarf tighter against his neck. My body was still too heated from all the running I did for the cold air to affect me. “What? Did I forget to do something, boss?”

  I shake my head, inching closer. “No, you didn’t forget to do anything, but you did leave something behind.” My lips graze his ear as I slip the socks in the pocket of his thick black coat. His cold hand touches mine, grasping at the socks.

  “What’s this?” his words come out in a stutter.

  “Your socks. I figured you may want them so you can wear them on Christmas Eve.”

  His gulps are loud when he swallows. “Oh, right my socks. Thank you.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “You can remove your hand from my pocket now.”

  My gaze drops to my hand sharing a small space with his. “Right. I guess I should do that so you can be on your way.”

  Instead of moving my hand, I lean in closer, and rub my nose against his. His eyes close and his tongue flicks across his lips. That’s all it takes for me to pin his body against his car, crashing our lips together. His mouth parts for me and our tongues move against each other, and it’s as if everything is happening in slow motion. Sugar remains on his tongue from the cookies he had earlier, making him taste like dessert. My tongue continues to lap around his, enjoying the surrounding heat. The ringing of his phone has us pulling apart and gasping for air. I glance down at the glowing of his phone, coming from his other pocket, and then back up at his face. I can’t help but smile when I take notice of his puffy pink lips. “Goodnight, Mikey, and make sure you’re wearing these to the office on Monday.” I squeeze my hand around the socks one last time.

  Without another word, I remove my hand from his pocket and walk to my car. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way there. He is still standing against his car like a statue when I drive out of the brightly lit garage. I can still feel the heat of his lips on mine and taste the sweetness of his tongue. I’ve crossed the line, I know I have, but it felt way too good not to step over. He felt way too good against my hands and they were already itching to be back on him. I arrive home after attempting to drown out my thoughts of my soon to be partner with various upbeat songs. But it only made me think of him more. The snow crunches beneath my feet and more dusts the air around me, coming off as white speckles against my black jacket.

  I enter my dark, quiet house, thankful for the warmth that wraps around me the moment I close the door, immediately melting the snow from my hair and clothes. I’m thankful for the fresh clean air that isn’t polluted with the smell of Christmas trees and cinnamon scented candles. There are no ornaments, garland, or lights cluttering any part of my living room and my fireplace remains empty of stockings and fake snow.

  It’s a breath of fresh air after being surrounded by it all day long at the office and driving home. I can’t even walk from my car to my house without being blinded by twinkling stars and giant light up Santas. I hate this holiday, and I despise how it always reminds me of that dreadful day. I attempted to bury those memories long ago, but they always come to the surface the moment November comes along, reminding me that December is just around the corner.

  I shake the memories away, letting my exhaustion sink in, hoping it will be enough to blur my thoughts. Everyone has the day off tomorrow but me. I have things I need to get done at the office and want to finish them up by Monday in order to stay on track. My phone rings and I ignore it, walking into my room to change into my sleep pants. My bare kitchen is as clean as when I left this morning. If you came in here, you would think no one lived here. I don’t keep much in my fridge either. I pull out some soup my sister brought yesterday and my phone rings again. After placing the food in the microwave, I walk over to where I laid my jacket and pull it out, seeing Michael’s name on the screen, the wrong Michael.

  Michael: So, do I get my gift? I can always drop by and get it myself.

  I type up a message just to delete it. It no longer feels like his gift. I ignore his phone call and don’t even bother listening to the voicemail. I could tell myself it was because I was exhausted from the long week I just had at work, and that is partly true, but it isn’t the full truth. I no longer wanted to give him the gift because the only person I want to see wearing it now is the guy who was never supposed to get it to begin with. The guy I was going to spend two days alone with at the office, and I already couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Nine

  Michael

  I drive to my parents’ house expecting it to be only the three of us. I couldn’t be any more wrong. Not only is my father sitting at the kitchen table, but so is my childhood best friend Gilbert, the friend I have been in love with for the last twenty years, and his boyfriend Patrick. They are laughing and it all stops when they notice me standing in the entryway. “Michael, so glad you could join us for dinner. It’s been what, weeks?” There my dad goes making me feel guiltier than I already do.

  I nod, pulling out the chair furthest away from my old best friend who was more like a stranger to me now. I haven’t seen him since I last confessed my love for him six months ago. Glancing back at my dad, I smile and reach for the cup of water my mother set in front of me. “Yeah, but I’m here now and notice you guys have guests.” I smile Gilbert and Patrick’s way but only Gilbert returns it. “Yeah, your mom ran into me at the grocery store and invited us over for an early Christmas dinner after I told her we had no plans other than staying in and eating at home.”

  “They wanted to eat takeout and I wouldn’t have it,” my mom says taking the seat next to me. “So, I invited them over. Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve had Gilbert over and we’ve missed seeing him around.”

  “Yeah, this guy’s been too busy for everyone lately it appears,” Gilbert says before taking a drink of his water. Patrick shuffles in his seat uncomfortably reaching for Gilbert’s hand while meeting my gaze. I’m thankful when my dad changes the subject, drowning out the tension building around us. “So, tell us more about this big architect promotion, Michael. Has that awful boss of yours rewarded you for all your hard work yet?”

  Shaking my head, I add a few tortillas to my plate. “No, not yet. The promotion is supposed to happen after Christmas.”

  Huffing beside me, my mom takes a sip of her tea. “Aye, mijo, I don’t know why you let this man do this to you. You should stand your ground. How many times has he made a promise to promote you and then prolonged it?”

  My mother wasn’t wrong, Gray had been waving this promotion in my face for nearly a year now. I told him a month ago, there would be many other places that would be glad to have someone like me on their team and surprisingly he agreed. He said I wouldn’t be waiting much longer, and for some reason I believed him. “It’s different this time, Mom. Gray knows he needs me. How about we not talk about work on my day off? I want to enjoy my day with you guys, not talk about something I’m trying to have a break from.”

  “I hear that,” Gilbert says lifting his glass. “This is supposed to be Christmas dinner after all and we should be talking about happy things. I, for one, would rather leave work at work.”

  My mother smiles, patting me on the shoulder. “You guys are right, lo siento. Just ignore me. I’m just so happy to have my boys here for dinner.”

  ‘Her boys’. She always did consider Gilbert a second son. My mother was just that kind of person and if they gave her time, she would probably adopt Patrick into the family too. Then I would have to see them together all the time, happy and in love. Surprisingly seeing them tog
ether now didn’t bother me as much as it did a few months ago when I ran into them at the mall, doing some early Christmas shopping. Patrick and Gilbert together made more sense than me and Gilbert did anyway. Gilbert dating me would be like mixing silverware with a plastic spoon. He had always looked like he stepped out of a magazine and I was, well me.

  We finish up our dinner and I excuse myself from the table. I hear Patrick’s voice for the first time the moment I’m out of sight. He remained quiet the whole time I was at the table. I guess he’s still angry with me for trying to steal his man away. I don’t blame him, but to be fair, at the time he only knew Gilbert for a few weeks while I’ve been in Gilbert’s life since we both learned to say the alphabet. I step quietly on the wooden stairs, heading for the bathroom, needing some time to myself.

  A voice coming from behind me has me nearly stumbling down the stairs. “I really hope you don’t mind having us here for dinner. I know things haven’t exactly been the same between us these last few months.”

  Gilbert’s brown eyes are sad and full of guilt when I turn around to meet them. “You mean these last six months? And it’s fine. You are like family to my parents. You know you’re always welcome here.”

  “And what am I to you now?”

  “I don’t know, Gilbert; I’m really just trying to go to the bathroom.”

  “Really? Because it really looked like you were just looking for a reason to get away. Why do things have to change between us now? I thought we were stronger than that. Is it because I can’t return your feelings?”

  I shake my head. “It’s not that, Gilbert. I can’t make you feel what you don’t feel and I would never make you feel guilty for it.” The truth is I made a fool of myself, putting my heart on the line, just to have it ripped out and stomped on. I took a chance telling Gilbert how I felt and hoping the kiss we shared meant the same to me as it did to him. I knew it didn’t the moment Patrick saw us, because he took off upset, and Gilbert ran after him. I was left alone on the couch, with my whole world crashing around me.