“My boyfriend is on his way over.”
Santa looked unaffected by my news.
“Jake. His name is Jake. I was just waiting for him. He said he'd be here any minute.”
Santa looked sad, as though I'd told him his cat just got run over. He patted his lap again.
“We both know that thing with Jake is going nowhere,” he said, “Sex. Just sex. So why don't you come over here and tell me what you'd really like?”
“You don't know anything about Jake. He's big, he's mean, and he's jealous as hell. He's not going to be happy to walk in here and find you sitting in his favorite chair drinking his drink and asking his girlfriend to sit on your lap, you pervert, so if I were you, I'd haul your ass out that front door and go play your little reindeer games somewhere else.”
Santa laughed. “Jake is a poor excuse for a father,” he told me, “and he's far from jealous. As a matter of fact, the reason he couldn't come over here tonight is because he's busy banging some girl he just met. Emma, I believe her name is. Or maybe that was last night? Tonight it's Sharon, I think. I don't know. Who can keep up with his antics? The long story short, Jake doesn't have any interest in coming here.”
“How do you know...” I couldn't finish the thought. This was getting creepier by the minute. It was like Santa had been stalking me, just waiting for Christmas Eve night to show up in a poof of... magic... to tell me things he didn't have any business knowing and then what? I was afraid to find out.
“You're a good mother, Cara. You've made so many sacrifices for that little girl and you're doing a wonderful job with her. But you deserve so much more... so much more than Jake is ever capable of giving you.”
“You better keep your filthy hands off my daughter, do you hear me?”
“Cara, please, you know I would never hurt Abby.”
“How would I know that? I don't even know who the hell you are!”
“I'm Santa Claus... St. Nick.”
“There is no such thing as Santa...”
He looked at me with horror in his eyes that I would ever say such a thing and I felt the sinking realization that I wasn't dealing with a rational person. He was a loony, a loony who was apparently obsessed with me and knew entirely too many personal details about my family and my relationship with Jake. For that matter, he seemed to know an awful lot about Jake too which made me wonder if Jake hadn't actually put the guy up to this. Jake was known for his pranks but even this seemed to be taking things a bit too far.
“Did Jake put you up to this?” I asked him. I lowered the poker slightly.
“No, Cara, I've told you already. I'm here because Abby wrote me several letters.”
Shit, I thought. Abby told Jake she wanted a Daddy for Christmas and Jake probably thought I was putting those ideas into her head. This was a sick way to get back at me for what he would lightly take as an insult and a threat to his carefree lifestyle.
“Abby came up with those ideas on her own,” I said, “Probably after seeing Jake and me together those couple months we tried dating. She's three. She can't tell when something isn't working. She just liked having a guy around to …” I stopped. Why did Abby want a father so badly? I provided everything she could possibly need and what I didn't provide, she got when she spent time with her grandparents. She was not lacking for toys and company and it wasn't like Jake and I had really been fun together. There was always this strange tension between us, like we were waiting for the other one to say the wrong thing so we could point fingers and blame.
“She wants her mother to be happy,” Santa said.
“I'm already happy,” I said, disgusted with Santa. Finally he got something wrong. Santa didn't know me so well after all.
“But isn't there something more you long for?”
“I have everything I could ever want – a good job, a beautiful daughter, a nice home. The only thing I want is for you to get your loser ass out of my house so I can move on with my life.”
“Sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas and I promise you, I will go.”
I rolled my eyes. What kind of sick joke was this? I grabbed the bottle and took a long drink straight from it.
“You better tell Jake to go to hell,” I said as I set the bottle with such force it shook the little table. Cookies bounced precariously close to the edge of the plate. Santa simply watched me with curious eyes.
As I got closer, I recognized something in those eyes. Did I know him?
“Take off the beard,” I said.
He shook his head no and held out a hand for me. I sat down, awkwardly and then regretted having that dramatic drink. It was too much. I swayed a little and Santa caught me in his arms to keep me from going right off his lap. With his arms around me, I scooted a little closer. I caught a whiff of aftershave, a musky scent that I was certain Jake never wore.
“Now, Cara, have you been a good girl for Santa this year?”
“Yes,” I said, humoring him.
“That's such a shame. You've been a good girl for me every year.”
My brow wrinkled in confusion. “That's supposed to be the idea, Santa.”
“There was once a time when you topped my naughty list.”
I cringed. Whoever this guy was, he might know how I hadn't exactly been a saint in college. It was a dark time in my life. I'd just found out my dad was sick after I'd barely got over losing my mother and I was still trying to figure out my place in the world. I narrowed my eyes waiting for him to mention some sordid detail but he spared us both.
“I'm a mother now,” I said.
“Yes, as we've already established, you're a very good one and I am very happy about that.”
“So what is this all about then?”
“Cara, you stopped dating. You stopped putting yourself out there. In your quest to make sure Abby had everything she needed for a happy life, you stopped taking care of your own needs.”
“There isn't time for dating. Between work and caring for Abby, I just... I'm exhausted.”
“Exhausted? Or scared?”
“Anyway, that isn't true. You're forgetting I dated Jake on and off for a good part of this year. Look where that got me.”
“Jake isn't what you need.” I felt Santa's warm hand on my thigh and I tensed. He wasn't wearing gloves and I wasn't wearing anything more than a short nightgown. His fingertips teased the sensitive exposed flesh and warmth moved through me. “And he surely isn't what you want, let alone what you need .”
“You don't know anything about me.” I pushed his hand away.
“I know you have needs, Cara... Desires. They consume your thoughts when you're alone in bed.”
I looked into his brown eyes. There were no wrinkles around them. His skin was smooth and youthful. There was a hint of fire and longing. For a brief moment I thought he might pull me in and smother me. My hand went to his broad chest to steady myself and instinctively, I wet my lips. This stranger didn't really know about the vibrator I used to pleasure myself before sleeping every night. That was a lucky guess.
“I... I don't. I have my daughter.”
“She isn't here tonight.”
I tried to stand up but Santa held me in place.
“I did what you asked. Now you have to go. You promised.”
His lips brushed against my ear and I felt warm breath tinged with cinnamon as he whispered, “You haven't told me what you really want.”
“Is that with this is?” I asked him. “You get off on breaking into single mother's homes and raping them on Christmas Eve when they are alone and vulnerable?”
I felt him on my thigh again, kneading the flesh with his strong fingers. Heat coursed through my body and images flashed through my mind I couldn't seem to control. Earlier that night I'd shamefully texted Jake for a late night booty call fully knowing it would be sex and nothing more. I'd desperately wanted a man in my bed to cure the persistent ache between my thighs and it didn't matter who. What kind of woman was I?
&
nbsp; This stranger was here now and although I didn't know him and I had no reason to trust him, I couldn't stop thinking about the way his fingers slowly traced their way inward. He could touch me if he wanted and he'd know how turned on I felt sitting on his lap thinking about how crazy and inappropriate this all was. I couldn't will my body not to respond. I needed it too much and clearly, I was desperate enough to take it from a man who dressed up like Santa and invaded women's homes for fun.
Mesmerized, I watched his mouth move. His soft, sensual lips begged me to kiss them.
“I don't hurt women,” he was saying.
“Not even if they ask nicely?” I teased. I didn't even recognize my voice anymore.
“Is that what you want, Cara? Do you want a man to spank you?”
I snapped out of my daze when I realized I was tempting this stranger with assault.
“No. No!” I pushed away his hand again, although admittedly this time my movements were more reluctant. He'd been so deliciously close to my center and I'd been so hyper aware of every delicate maneuver. What had come over me?
I was standing now, almost leaning over him, daring him to grab me. I would scream louder this time and give him a good hard kick in the balls for good measure. I had it in me, I was sure.
“Well then,” he said, “Perhaps I was wrong, after all.”
Taken off guard I opened my mouth to give him some snappy comeback but nothing came out.
“I have a few small things to leave for Abby, although I regret I'm not able to leave her the one thing she wants most of all.”
Santa gave a little nod and suddenly disappeared and reappeared standing on the other side of me. I sucked in my breath and blinked my eyes. What I just witnessed was physically impossible which left only one option. I was dreaming.
He stood so close to me we almost touched. He sure felt real. I closed my eyes and inhaled and caught a whiff of something between peppermint and spice. Delicious. I craned my neck to look up at him, willing him to say he wasn't a figment of my imagination, that he existed, flesh and blood, ready to grab me, haul me back down to his lap, and spank my bare bottom for all it was worth.
No, that was insane, I reminded my myself.
He side stepped me and went to my tree.
“What are you doing?”
Glancing over his shoulder he gave me a once over, as if I had somehow gone mad.
“Putting out a present for Abby. Then, as you requested, I will leave.”
“Wh... I mean... Why...”
He leaned in close to reach for his sack behind me. I felt his breath against my cheek.
“Damn it,” I said, “This is my dream. Take off the beard.”
“I can't do that, Cara.”
I took a deep breath. “Take off the beard and kiss me,” I corrected.
He caressed my arm with the back of his hand as he considered this. My legs shook with fear as I waited for him to do something. I'd had dreams before of handsome strangers having their way with me but never one dressed like Santa. I guess that's what I get for watching a holiday movie marathon this afternoon with Abby.
“I don't know what's wrong with me,” I started rambling, “but it's Christmas Eve and I don't want to be alone. If you're real, I should call the police and have them arrest you for entering my home uninvited but I know this has to all be in my head. I drank too much. I work too hard. I don't feel like you're here because you want to hurt me. I get this sense that... I don't know... somehow I know you... and I want to see your face. I want to know for sure.”
“And you want to kiss me?”
“I... well... isn't that what you want? I mean, the whole reason you're here? Entertain the vulnerable young mother on Christmas Eve? Put on a disguise, ask me to reveal my darkest fantasies, and then use that to...”
“Fulfill those desires?”
“Well, yeah, if this is my dream then of course it should end in the most satisfying manner I could imagine. And you can get off on the power of knowing me so intimately when I can't even see your face.”
“You're a beautiful woman, Cara. I would be honored to do things to you that other men only dream of.”
“Other men aren't...”
“Yes, they are.” He put his finger over my lips to silence me and I trembled.
“Take off the beard, please.”
“I will grant you one wish but seeing my face isn't your deepest desire.”
I snaked my arms around his neck and forced his face to mine. Our lips touched and I felt the smoldering between us. His tongue grazed the outline of my mouth as my hands dropped to unbutton the velvet coat he was still wearing. How could he stand wearing it in a house that felt so warm? I was doing him a favor, I thought, as my fingers worked at a feverish pace. I would relieve him of the heavy garment so he would feel more comfortable. As soon as I finished the task, I wasted no time pushing it off his shoulders and down his large biceps. I gasped at the sight of him. He was all deep cut muscle and man. My gaze moved lower, contemplating the big black belt buckle. I licked my lips imagining what hid beneath but as I moved to release him but he grabbed my wrists.
“Not so fast.”
My breaths came in quick gasps. What was I doing?
“I came here to make you acknowledge the one thing you desire most.”
“I don't understand. There is nothing,” I whispered and shook my head. The tears were threatening to break again. They were there filling my eyes and turning the world into a wavy scene. “I gave up my dreams when I had Abby.”
“Tell me what you want, Cara.”
“I want...”
He cocked his head to the side as he waited for me to speak but I couldn't muster the courage to say the words.
“I don't really care as long as my daughter is happy. I just … but if you want to give me one night. Do it. Do anything you want to me. It's been so long since I have been with a man.”
He stepped forward and kissed me, consuming my mouth with his, hot and heavy. His hands roamed my body, needy and wanting. He slipped under my nightgown and cupped my bare bottom in his large palms until I moaned.
“I thought you'd never ask,” he whispered, breathless in my ear. Then we parted just long enough to yank the nightgown up over my head and toss it aside. I stood there in my living room with the flickering lights of the Christmas tree reflected on my skin as Santa drank in the sight of me. I shivered with a mixture of fear and desire.
It was a dream, of course, I reminded myself. There was no other logical explanation and if that was the case then there was no reason not to let go and allow him to make me feel things I longed to feel again.
Santa kissed me again, greedy and demanding as he pushed me up against the far wall. I felt his tongue claim my mouth as heat pooled between my legs. I'd probably go to hell for having a dream like this but I no longer cared.
With one large black boot, he forced my legs apart as his fingers explored every curve and nuance of my hips and thighs. They danced over my pubic mound until I squirmed for him to touch me where I needed it most.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked. I tipped my head back and enjoyed the sensation as he trailed his tongue along the curve of my neck to my shoulder. With his free hand, he palmed my breast and played with the firm nipple craving his attention.
“Oh yes,” I whispered.
Satisfied with my response, the fingers that still played daringly close slipped lower.
“Ooohh...”
He dipped into the warm wetness of my core sending a spiral of pleasure coursing through my entire body.
It shouldn't feel this good. Now I knew it had to be a dream.
He circled my clit several times before pressing into me, coaxing me with his finger.
“There's my naughty girl,” he said. I could feel him smiling, watching the expression on my face as his hand moved against me, finger stroking as my hips moved to complement his rhythm. I was loving every moment of it but I still wanted so much more.
Santa bent lower and licked and sucked at my pert nipple and then, before I had a chance to register the movements, he was on his knees leaving tender kisses along my abdomen and heading south. I froze when I realized where he was headed.
“Oh god,” I moaned. He lifted one leg and placed it over his shoulder, opening me to him a little more. He slipped his fingers from inside me and tasted the juices that coated them while he looked up into my eyes. My chest heaved in anticipation of what would come next. I didn't have to wait long. Santa apparently liked the way I tasted and needed more of it. He licked and sucked with fervent desperation. I tangled my fingers in his white hair as I fought to keep control. It was a battle I was quickly losing. He tongued me deeply as that damn white beard tickled my thighs and then he used two fingers to stroke as he sucked my clit. I panted and moaned. He kept me so close to the edge without letting me fall over no matter how much I moved my hips against his hot, wanting mouth.
Maybe this isn't a dream, I thought. It felt like no experience I'd ever had before. But if it wasn't my imagination then I had to accept the fact that I'd allowed an intruder to press me up against my wall and give me the time of my life. I felt a giggle rise up from my chest as I considered this.
He stopped and looked up at me, wiping the glistening of my juices from his chin. He was frowning.
“Something funny?”
“No, it's just... I don't know if this is real or a dream.”
He stood up and kissed me, forcing my mouth to open to his tongue as he darted inside to taste me. Something about the way he kissed me made me feel incredibly eager to have him buried between my legs.
“You're not dreaming,” he told me, “and I'm going to carry you into the bedroom now and prove it.”
I shuddered as waves of desire flooded my system. Santa didn't hesitate in scooping me up into his big, strong arms and then, as if he'd been in my house a thousand times before and knew his way, he carried me to my bedroom and placed me in the center of my bed.
Naughty for Santa: An Erotic Holiday Romance Page 2