by Taryn Quinn
Parker: You still have the Santa suit don’t you?
No way was I putting that on.
Hell no.
Fuck no.
She twisted her fingers. “What? Is there news?”
Those damn blue eyes. Fuck.
No.
Absolutely not. I had a flight to catch to a cabin that didn’t have a stitch of Christmas attached to it. I was out of here.
“I’ll do anything. Pay whatever I have in my savings account to get someone to be my Santa.”
“Anything?”
She nodded. “Anything.”
My phone pulsed again.
Parker: I know you have that suit. Don’t be an asshole.
Once upon a time I’d have gladly donned my suit. Not now. Not even for a pair of legs up to her damn neck. There was no way in hell.
She put her palms on the desk and leaned into me. “Pride has left the building, Mr. Murdock. I need a Santa to save my company and this party.”
My spine heated.
There was nothing sexy about the bulky sweater she was wearing. Save for the fact that she had a belt cinched around her narrow waist which emphasized her curves. The same curves that had made me insane the night before, and were doing a really good job of keeping me in the same state right now.
I steepled my fingers together. “What would you say if I said I have a Santa suit in the building?”
“Would it fit me?”
I raised one brow. “Who would be your helper elf?”
“Mel. I’m sure I…” She swallowed. “I can make it work.”
“The suit is cut to fit me.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“That is not a story we’re going to get into. Suffice it to say, I don’t wear the suit for anyone.”
Her eyebrows snapped down. “Not even for those kids downstairs?”
“Not my problem.”
She stood up straight. “That’s unconscionable.”
“I don’t do Christmas, Miss Kane. Not even when you give me that look.”
“What do you mean you ‘don’t do Christmas’?”
I stood up and circled the desk to stand in front of her. “Call me Scrooge. I’m okay with it.”
“But there’s innocent children who believe in Santa. They believe that someone is out there to—”
“Give them gifts? Yeah, I know. I see the greed and the tantrums in my store. Yesterday, I watched a man punch out another man just to get the last drone in our display. Christmas spirit is everywhere.”
“What happened to you?” she whispered.
I tucked my thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans. “Not relevant.”
“It’s very relevant. Surely there’s some way for us to come to a compromise.”
“You don’t have anything to offer.”
“Nothing?”
The innocent hope in her expression didn’t help the precarious state of my libido. I wanted to bend her over my brother’s desk. But exceptional pussy wasn’t enough to make me face all that laughter and light. My cock’s reaction to her certainly seemed to state otherwise, but I was not ruled by my dick.
Maybe if I lost myself in her sweet body for a few days I’d even out enough to get through the holiday. But a few hours wouldn’t suffice.
Not if I had to put on that damn Santa suit.
“Not sure you’re prepared to put that sort of chip on the table, Miss Kane.” My voice was husky and low to my own ears. The flush in her cheeks made my cock throb.
I watched the realization hit her.
She stumbled back a step.
I caught her before she tripped on the edge of the rug. Her sweater was soft over her narrow back. She gripped the front of my shirt.
“Just what would you do to get me to play Santa, Miss Kane?”
4
Kay
Was a jaw actually able to become unhinged and fall onto the floor?
I was pretty sure mine had.
He couldn’t be asking me to trade sexual favors for him to wear a Santa suit. He was the head of a multi-million-dollar company. Perhaps billions. I wasn’t really up on my zeros in the merchandise side of the world. Regardless of that sticky fact, I couldn’t have heard him right.
His face went from nearly playful to stone cold. “I rescind the offer.”
“No, wait.” I tugged on the cowl neck of my sweater. I could walk away. My principles and my limping bank account could go home right now.
Or I could make a deal. Assuming I could even go through with it if I did.
I was deathly afraid to ask if he meant what I thought, but I had twenty employees who relied on me. Thankfully, the temporary workers I’d hired were already paid.
“What are the terms?”
A flicker of surprise flared in his eyes before his face blanked again. “You.”
“Well, I’m not for sale.”
His lips slid into a sly smile. “The terms are for time with you. No running off. My cabin for two days.”
I blinked. “Two days?”
He nodded. “Unless you have an ailing parent, or a husband? But I’m assuming neither applies since you were sliding your very fine self all around me last night.”
I swallowed. A cabin.
Alone.
Sweet Jesus.
I hadn’t even gone on vacation with a boyfriend, let alone a stranger.
“Where?”
His smile widened. “Just outside Lake Placid.”
“That’s upstate.”
“I had a feeling you were a smart woman. You know, seeing as we’re in the city, and there aren’t any cabins around here.”
I huffed out a breath. “There’s a big difference between Lake Placid and a cabin in Scarsdale, Mr. Murdock.”
“Linc.” He shrugged. “You know, since I just asked you to my place for illicit sex.”
Yeah, that thing about my unhinged jaw had nothing on me now.
He tipped his head back and let out a roar of laughter. “Your face is priceless. Look, I’m not expecting you to strip down and fuck me right here.” He moved into my space and my heart pounded between my ears and my damn legs at the same time.
Why couldn’t I be attracted to a guy like Jason?
Oh, wait—Jason was now in the tropics with my elf. Fuck Jason.
Rather, don’t fuck Jason.
Fuck Lincoln Murdock.
Yes, please.
No. That wasn’t what I wanted at all. Was it?
Maybe.
No, stupid little hormonal voice, you be quiet.
Fuck this situation and the fact that I was in it. I’d been so excited to have the Murdock contract that I’d signed off on the first draft. I should have slashed the Santa part from the three clauses I’d agreed to. No Santa, no deal.
I’d even made sure Jason was my Santa for the job before I signed. It wasn’t like I was a total idiot, but this was my reward for relying on anyone other than myself.
Linc lifted his hand to cup my cheek. “I’m not asking for something abhorrent, am I?” His thumb brushed across my lower lip.
“It’s more along the lines of how you asked, Mr. Murdock. The fact that you put a price on it. You should want to do this for the kids of the employees in your care.”
His hand dropped and the heat dissolved from his gaze. “Which is why I hired you to do so. It’s not my problem that your Santa took off with…what was it? Your elf?”
I clenched my jaw. “Yes.”
“I’m simply giving you a solution to your problem.”
“But not out of the goodness of your heart,” I said flatly.
His face went stony. “No.”
“It’s Christmas.” I stepped back. “That should be enough of a reason.”
“Take it or leave it, Miss Kane. It doesn’t matter to me. I certainly don’t mind saving a little money.”
“To put it in your pocket?” I asked. I could feel the splotchy red heat climbing my neck. Obviously, he didn’t care
about the people in his employ. Only about himself.
He shrugged. “It was a generous contract.”
It was, dammit. Which was why I couldn’t lose it. I would be able to finally breathe for the first time since I had opened the doors of Kandy Kane Dreams four years ago. I’d spent all of his deposit and then some. I was counting on the final payment or I’d be in the red even more than I was before I started the Murdock job.
There was really no answer other than yes.
I held out my hand. “You have yourself a deal.”
He took it, then dragged me into him. His mouth covered mine and there was no kindness in the kiss. No easing into him, or learning the shape and taste of him. I might have been a bit limited on my dealings with men, but I thought I’d hit all the checkmarks on kissing.
I was woefully uninformed.
His other hand slid along the small of my back and there was no mistaking his intent. His body was hard and uncompromising. His sweater soft as air. My arm slid up around his neck as I let myself fall into him. As with the entire situation, I didn’t have much of a choice.
This time it was my body making the decisions for me.
My brain shut off. His mouth was everything. Later I’d cringe about the whimper that hummed between us, but right now I didn’t care. He tasted dark and wild with a hit of peppermint. Candy cane.
I knew that taste anywhere. It was my namesake after all.
Somehow that made it even more absurd.
He tore his mouth away from mine, his shoulders heaving as he looked down at me. We were nearly the same height with the skyscraper heels of my boots. It was rare for me to have a man make me feel small. Then again, he was definitely a rare animal all around.
His eyes were dangerously blue even with his pupils dilated with lust.
For me.
Why?
Why was I questioning it? Maybe he was finally the right person who could rid me of my pesky virginity.
He certainly seemed to know what he was doing. I didn’t have to actually like him to be attracted to him evidently. I could walk away after the two days and we’d both get what we needed.
I took a shaky breath. “You have a Santa suit to don, sir.”
And just like that, the lust in his gaze fizzled to nothing.
He stepped back. “A deal’s a deal.”
I pushed back the stubborn curls that wouldn’t be tamed into braids away from my face. “I’ll let my assistant know.” I went to the door without another word. Mostly because I needed a moment to get my brain on straight. I opened the door.
“Oh, and Miss Kane?”
My fingers tightened on the knob, but I didn’t turn around. “Yes?”
“A Santa needs his elf. I’ll expect you in my office in twenty minutes.”
5
Scrooge
I followed my Hot Elf to the door. She hurried down the hallway, her heels making little clicks on the carpeting. I waited until I heard the elevator ding before I opened the door and crossed to my office.
Her scent was there. She smelled like goddamn Snickerdoodles. How was that possible?
The one cookie I loved of course. Everything else about her was a lure of epic proportions, so why not her scent?
I opened the closet in my office. A black suit hung there with a white dress shirt and half a dozen ties. Board meetings required me to play CEO to the hilt. Just because I did most of my job wearing denim and cotton didn’t mean the twenty stockholders my father started the company with needed to know that.
I knew how to play my role when it was warranted. Same as my brother knew to give me a pass when it came to Christmas. It was our busiest time, but I dealt with everything other than the actual day. And while my old man was a bastard about most things, he didn’t believe in working his employees through the holiday.
We closed the stores at six on Christmas Eve and reopened noon the day after Christmas. Boxing day—or Return Day as we called it—was a huge shopping day, but our employees deserved to enjoy their families. Or, as it happened for me, seclusion.
Except this year. This year I had my very own elf.
And I’d be sure to de-Christmas her in every way. I wouldn’t be happy until she was screaming my name and forgot what a candy cane was.
Unless that was what she wanted to call my cock.
I could live with that.
I pushed my suit aside for the garment bag at the back of my closet. A three-year coating of dust clung to the heavy plastic. I crossed the room and tossed it on one of the chairs in front of my desk. My hand shook a little as I grasped the oversized zipper and pulled it down.
The scent of evergreen and cinnamon couldn’t be denied even after three years in storage. It was in every inch of crimson fabric and silky white fur. I peeled back the black bag and slid the jacket off the hanger. This Santa suit had been fitted for me by a tailor—including a little room in the middle for the fake belly I wore.
No pillow for me.
No, I’d made sure the padded vest under it was kid-tested for authenticity. Playing Santa was my favorite part of the year. Until—
I shook off the thought of her. Not before a flash of fine bone structure and gossamer white-blond hair hijacked my memory. The plastic bag crunched under my fingers until I forced myself to relax each one and let go.
She wasn’t worth thinking about.
I’d take an hour and play a role. It wasn’t much different than wearing my suit for the stockholders. Except for the part where I was required to wear a white beard and smile until my cheeks ached.
I swiped my hand over my scruffy face. At least it was long enough to help the brunt of my fake beard stick.
I reached behind my neck to pull my sweater off just as someone knocked on my door.
“Enter.”
“All right, I spoke with the other—” She leaned against the door with her hands pinned behind her back. Her huge blue eyes gave Manga comics a run for their money.
I stripped off my sweater and tugged down my lightweight plaid shirt. I kicked off my shoes and hardened instantly at the way she looked at me. She didn’t bother to glance away which I appreciated. Regardless of the crazy situation we’d put ourselves in, we were adults.
She licked her glossy lips and I groaned. She’d fixed her mouth since the last time I’d tasted her. Her bow lips were back to their crisp red, her hair tucked neatly into braids once more, and a shiny gold belt cinched in her trim waist—and all of it made me want to mess her up again.
I wanted to slowly peel back all her layers like a present.
One made just for me.
The fact that I wanted her so badly fired up the anger which had been banked when I’d been stupid enough to make this deal.
I crowded into her, pressing my knee between her striped thighs. “You’re prompt.”
She swallowed. “Yes. It’s generally an asset in my business. I can come back in a few minutes if you’d rather.”
“No.” I pressed my cock against her middle. All I needed to do was flip up her little skirt, drag her leg up on my hip, and we’d line up. Maybe if I lost myself in her I could make it through the party. I slid my hand along the outside of her thigh and under the loose swing of her skirt. “Do these go all the way up?”
“No.” Her voice was little more than a breath.
“Fuck,” I said with a hiss as my fingertips brushed over warm flesh. No garter, just the tight elastic at the top of her thigh. I didn’t think about it—her cinnamon and vanilla scent obliterated my mind. I flicked the lock on my door and dropped to my knees.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if you taste like cinnamon too.”
Her head thunked against the door. “This isn’t a good idea. Your brother will be back in a few minutes.”
“Then shut up and let me find out.”
“Mr. Murdock…”
I trailed my fingers around her knee and along the back of her thigh. “Really, I think you can
go with Linc or even Lincoln, don’t you? Probably should get used to the name. You’ll be screaming it for the next three days.”
“You said I needed to stay at your place for the next few days. Nothing about this.”
I traced the lines of her panties, my gaze never leaving hers no matter how badly I wanted to find out what color her underwear was. Red as her cherry lips? Green as her little skirt, or worse…white. As innocent and flawless as she felt under the velvet material. “Do you want me to stop?”
She licked her lips. “It’s probably wrong to say no.”
“Nothing is wrong here.” I filled my hands with the lush curves of her ass. “Nothing about what we’re going to do in the next few days is wrong.”
Her breath shuddered out as she traced the side of her thumb along the stubborn whorl of hair at the center of my hairline. No matter how short I kept it, the curls came out just there at my widow’s peak.
I’d been lax about haircuts in the busy season. A few more weeks and I’d look like Ronald McDonald’s darker ginger cousin.
Her fingers trembled, then steadied in my hair. I closed my eyes as her short nails scored along my scalp lightly.
“I want this.”
I opened my eyes at her soft words. They were direct and without artifice. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had said something so simply. So honestly.
Instead of answering her—because fuck if I could actually speak right now—I nudged her feet apart and slipped my hands under the lacy edge of silk.
She clenched under my touch. She was all tight muscles under smooth, warm skin. I kneaded her generous ass. She was built to touch—the perfect level of softness to hang onto. Just like I’d done on the dance floor the night before.
Not rail thin, with a thin veneer of sinew over bone like many of the women at the clubs. A lot of them starved themselves in between spin classes and yoga until there wasn’t any softness left. Not this woman. She was strong and fit with curves for days.
I nudged up her skirt and groaned.
White.
They just had to be white.
They were cut high on her waist with scalloped lace edges drawing a line right to her plump lips where a little spot of dampness told me exactly where to go.