Stocking Stuffers: A Five Story Christmas Anthology

by E. J. Darling

  She narrowed her eyes at him, and he smiled. It was genuine but pained. Just like his rock hard dick.

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely.” He tipped his head to the woman still hovering over them. “Peel yourself out of that thing so she can box it up for you.” He looked at his watch. “We have time for one more stop before we have to go back.”

  Evin’s smile exploded, and to his torture, she sashayed her way back to the fitting room. It gave him a reprieve and time to think about anything and everything to get his boner to go away.

  “Baboon butts.”

  He frowned, his brows knitted together as he looked at the closed dressing room door. “Excuse me?”

  “Red, swollen, hairy, little baboon butts.” She giggled and he watched her feet leave the ground as she jumped into her jeans. “Wrinkly grandma boobs.”

  “Wow, stop. What are you doin’?” He shook his head and stood. “You’re so weird.”

  “You feel better though. Don’t you?” She opened the door and smiled, giving him a wink as she skirted by and flipped her hair out the neck of her sweater.

  It was reminiscent of their bathroom scene the night before. Only this time he was more than tempted to take her up on her offer and let her do whatever the fuck she wanted to him. God, the things she could probably do to him.

  He tightened his jaw, fighting back the very real desire to push her back into the dressing room and defile like she wanted.

  Evin handed her dress and shoes to the woman, who took them without a word and strode off to the checkout counter. Then, she turned on him looking him up and down, putting him under a microscope.

  He really wished she wouldn’t look at him like that. It was already hard enough talking himself out of not fucking when she seemed very much for it.

  Almost impossible.

  She cleared her throat, locking in on his eyes. “She probably thinks you can’t afford the dress or shoes, let alone both.”

  He looked down his body, to the plain black thermal, simple gray sweats not hiding anything, and the same pair of Nikes he had all year. After his own estimation, he looked at her knowingly. “I think you’re right. I look like a—”

  “Tourist.” She smiled and stepped toward him, stopping inches away. “May I hug you at least? You don’t want any other affections, but can a girl thank you?”

  Oh God. His jaw tightened again and he gave a stiff nod, wrapping his arms around her in a quick hug. “And that’s enough. Now, let’s get a move on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He delicately touched her exposed neck, then tore his hand and gaze away. “You need something shiny to match that dress.”

  “Tucker you don’t have to—”

  Silencing her with a finger was his first mistake.

  Letting it linger there was his second.

  His third was thinking he could make it through the weekend without touching her more.

  Or was that his first mistake?

  Slowly, she reached up and removed his finger from her lips. Their gazes lingered, owning whatever skin they could claim. Evin sucked in her bottom lip and he focused on it.

  His dick was telling him to kiss her, but thankfully his brain was going full stop. It still had a shred of common sense. Talk, then fuck. If she wanted to. Though that was never his intention, he half hoped she’d be some flea bitten whore with a couple teeth missing, and less the bubbly, clean, seductive woman she was.

  Maybe he’d hoped for the latter though, he didn’t know.

  “Let’s get a move on.” She turned on her heel and slowly made her way to the counter.

  He was already in too deep, and sinking like the Titanic.

  Chapter Seven

  Evin took a breath and counted to ten. Her nerves were shot after the close encounter of the sexy man kind in the store, and then three more awful incidents after that.

  Once when they entered the jewelers and he dropped the bomb on her that they were going to a company Christmas party.

  Once when they casually walked by a gaggle of snickering women she’d gone to school with who knew exactly what she did for a living.

  And then lastly, when they walked by Silver Circle and a mom scurried her daughter away from Evin’s path, saying something about trash under her breath.

  But it was looking up. Tucker seemed to be able to make her want to forget...anything.

  “Don’t you dare look.” Tuck guided her into the cabin. Poorly, she’d like to add, since he let her slip twice in the short distance from the car, despite the hold he had on her. “You promised not to open your eyes.”

  “I don’t understand what the big deal is.” She took another step and her foot hit the solid flooring of the cabin. Home free. “It’s a cabin, Tucker. I saw it already. It’s very nice.”

  “Oh, now she knows everything, too.” There was a playful tone in his voice, like usual.

  When the door clicked closed, a hand covered her eyes. Assurance for her not to ruin a surprise of some kind, she presumed.

  The air smelled incredible. There was a hint of smoke, maybe from a wood burning fire. Then the smell of grilled meat hit her senses and her stomach rumbled as a smile played on her lips. It was divine.

  “What’s going on?” They stepped in farther, her back against his front, and he tastefully pressed himself against her.

  He did everything tastefully. Chastely.

  He was the Lady to her Tramp.

  “I won’t pretend I didn’t notice you had a terrible day.” A few more steps. “And I also won’t lie. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have made you parade me around like some local.”

  “Probably not.” She smiled and tried to lick his hand away, but he persisted. “But it isn’t your fault. I do what I do and that’s that. They don’t like it, but it pays the bills.” Not much in the way of food in her belly, but hey.

  They stopped on a dime and he shifted behind her. “I’m gonna remove my hand, but don’t look until I say. Okay?”

  She nodded, and his cold hand disappeared. Her heart dipped when it did. It was hard to register the feeling in her chest but broke it down to one simple emotion.

  Longing.

  Wow Coates, you are impossible aren’t you?

  It wasn’t easy to shake off after she coined the term in her head, but there was nothing to do about it. All she could do was hang on and pray the feeling left her quickly. The last thing either of them needed was a depressed whore getting clingy.

  “Are you ready?”

  She sighed and smiled. “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Okay. Open them.”

  Holy shit. The entire cabin had been transformed into a winter wonderland. There was garland, real garland, hung along the walls. Giant red and green ornaments hung from the ceiling. There was a bare tree sitting in the middle of the expansive wall of windows and the entire scene was just perfect.

  Her father would have loved it. She loved it.

  Her cheeks hurt from smiling and it was genuine that time, unlike all her other dates and other smiles. “What is all this?”

  “I planned it yesterday before my meeting. I wanted it to feel like Christmas while we were here.” He turned and looked at the bare tree. “I had them leave the tree so we could decorate it. Didn’t want all the joy sucked out of the holiday. Usually I’m exhausted by now. Ladders, and lights, and trimmings, oh my.” His smile was effortless.

  “You hang your own lights?” Evin couldn’t stop ogling as she walked deeper into the living space and to the tree. It was a spruce of some kind, and perfectly symmetrical on every side.

  “Who else would do it if not me?” He stepped closer to her, slow step by slow step.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged, her eyes finding more and more things to look at. “I guess I thought you hired someone.” The fireplace was roaring and felt incredible on her cold cheeks and fingers.

  “There’s no fun in that.” He chuckled, and she realized then they’d met i
n the middle. Somehow.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I had to keep you out of the cabin all afternoon. I thought the finished product would be a nice surprise.” He gestured to the coffee table and she followed with her eyes. “I got dinner. I didn’t know what you liked so I ordered two different things. I’ll eat the other, I’m not picky.”

  Of course, her throat tightened, and a pit opened in her stomach. It was nice, too nice, and she didn’t do nice.

  She didn’t have any idea on how to formulate a proper response to him. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’re here all weekend.” His knuckle lifted her chin, and it was almost too intimate with everything around them. “I’m not going to let you starve, Evin.”

  She liked the way he said her name. There was a drawl in it somehow, one she couldn’t quite figure out. He blew her away with his kindness, a complete stranger.

  It’d been too long since something felt genuinely real and nice. He was paying her to be there, but it didn’t feel that way. All day was one big move after another, and her head was spinning.

  No one but her dad ever did anything nice for her without wanting something in return. Like her.

  “What do you want to do first?”

  It took her a moment to think about just that question, not to mention absorbing everything else. It was…overwhelming.

  “I think I need a shower first.”

  He nodded, but it obviously wasn’t the answer he wanted. There was disappointment in his eyes, and she put it there. It wasn’t a rejection of what he’d done, it was just too much. She needed to process.

  “When I come back. I want the steak.” She smiled and he seemed to open back up. “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, of course.” He shooed her away and she turned on her heel, running for her room. “Don’t take long.”

  She bit her lip and shut the door, sealing herself into the safe space. Holy fuck balls.

  With a deep sigh, Evin got her clothes, something not sexy since she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, and padded to the joining bathroom.

  * * *

  Well, she couldn’t stay in there forever.

  Her reflection, if it could speak, would tell her to stop being such a pansy ass bitch and open the door. It would also tell her that, if she could let an old man with type two diabetes suck on her toes for an extra three hundred dollars, then she could face a handsome man who was basically her own age.

  So, what the fuck was the problem?

  Was it because he was handsome? Was it because he was nice? God, she needed therapy if that was her hang up. Too bad she couldn’t afford it anymore.

  With the audacity of a straight, white, frat boy at a college mixer, Evin swung open the door, running right into the bare chest of none other than ol’ brown eyes himself. It was a wonder she could even remember his eye color with his tits in her face like that.

  “We really should stop meeting like this.” He smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes despite his attempt at a joke. “It was too much, wasn’t it?”

  “It wasn’t.” She winced at her own lie. He tilted his head and leaned against the doorframe as she deflated. “I’m just fucked up, okay?”

  “Probably, but you could still tell me what’s going on.” He pushed off the frame and backed up until his ass was on the bed. “We have all weekend if you still want to stay. I could be your free shrink.”

  She shook her head and bit back a smile. “And therein lies the problem.”

  “Fancy words for, ‘I’m too nice.’” He crossed his arms over his chest and bit the inside of his cheek. It was an odd sight from his usual confidence, as if she’d struck a nerve. That was the last thing she wanted. “I get that sometimes.”

  “It isn’t that you’re too nice, Tucker. It’s that I don’t know how to accept the nice.” Wow, that came out better than she thought.

  She stepped out of the bathroom and sat in the floor in front of him. He leaned forward and gave her all his attention. She wasn’t sure, but she thought that was supposed to go the other way. Wasn’t she supposed to be getting paid to give him attention?

  “I appreciate everything you did today. I j-just haven’t been able t-to thank you the only way I know h-how.” Why was her voice shaking? Why was she outright admitting a dark, twisted, very self-aware part of herself like that?

  “You could just say thank you. And you did that, like a thousand times today.” He shook his head and slid into the floor with her, his back resting against the bed. His long legs reached her, but he didn’t touch her.

  It was someone trying to get on her level for the first time in too long, and if she dwelled on that, she’d break completely. If she cried, she’d have to go home. There was no coming back from that. No one wanted a broken whore in their company.

  “You’re weird.” She smacked his legs away as they closed in on her. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why am I bein’ a human?” He cocked a brow, studying her with a fine toothed comb. “Why am I a functional adult? Why am I in the floor with you? There’s a lot of questions, but I think there’s more questions there,” he gestured to her heart, “than there are answers. Sometimes life’s hard, Ev.”

  Her nose was stuffy, but she sniffled anyway. God, why was this so fucking awful? Why did she have to be broken? He couldn’t save her in a weekend, and presumably, didn’t pick out an escort just to have a therapy session.

  She stood, over the feels already, and held her hand out. “I’m hungry.”

  He gave her a once over, his gaze heavier, hotter than it should be. Maybe the pretty boy liked broken pieces and fucked up women. Could be a kinky thing. Maybe. Either way, it built a fire inside her she’d have to douse when she finally went to bed alone. If she was super lucky, which she had to face it, she wasn’t, Jenny packed a play toy.

  Once his eyes hit hers, an action that took too long for someone who didn’t want to have sex with her, he finally grabbed her hand and stood. He didn’t back away, and she held her ground. “Me too.”

  “Steak?” She wouldn’t lie and say the smile on her lips wasn’t to toy with him. If he was going to torture her, walk around all day with grey sweats and a hard on, then she could do a little shimmy. “I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?” He led her back into the living room and helped her sit on a plush pillow in the floor, the steak on the coffee table in front of her.

  “We eat while we watch one of those Claymation Christmas movies.” She watched him sit. More like watched his sweats tighten around every part of his lower body while he lowered himself to the floor. “You know the ones deep seated in your best childhood memories?”

  He smiled and took a bite of long pasta in a creamy sauce. It got on his lips, but he wiped it away too quickly for her liking.

  After he cleaned his mouth, he turned on the television and up popped The Year Without a Santa Claus. Not her favorite, but he got so many bonus points for effort.

  “Done.” He gave her a smug smile. “I had time on my hands while you locked yourself in the bathroom.”

  Touché. “Then, we switch over to Christmas carols and decorate the tree.”

  “Perfect. Classics or modern?”

  She cut her steak and took a bite while she thought on that. “Modern.”

  “Okay, then what?”

  She took another bite. If she was going to fully embrace Christmas, something she hadn’t done yet that year, then she’d go all out. He was putting in the effort, so would she. “Then we put on Miracle on 34th Street and lay on the couch while the fire dies and the tree glows.”

  He smiled and shook his head, dropping his fork and crossing his arms over his chest. “I hate that movie.”

  That was the point. “Me too.” Maybe they could focus on not the movie instead.

  It was silent between them, but not really. There were a million things going through her head at that moment. The most important
being.

  How the hell was she supposed to keep her hands off him?

  Chapter Eight

  There was something about that woman that drove him wild.

  Her perfectly undone hair. The smile on her lips when she found the perfect place for an ornament. The way she stood on her toes to reach the higher branches of the tree. It was all he could do not to swoop her up and take her somewhere more comfortable.

  Like the bedroom.

  She wasn’t here to sate his lust. Maybe she thought she was an object only good at making others happy with her body, but he didn’t think that at all. There were definitely some deep wounds in that girl’s heart, and he wanted to fix them. It wasn’t his place to fix her though, and she didn’t want his help.

  So, all he could do was tap into the joy he knew was already inside her, waiting to be brought to the surface.

  Tuck placed an ornament too close to another and ignored her glare.

  “There’s an order to the madness, Mr. Matthews.” She grabbed the green orb and placed it two inches higher.

  Why? He didn’t know.

  “Whatever you say, darlin’.”

  “Don’t darlin’ me.” She mocked a drawl, and he couldn’t even pretend to be serious about it. “Now, grab the star. That’s your job.”

  “Is it?” He reached into the plastic box and pulled out a puny looking gold wire star. “This is awful. You’d think a five star mountain retreat in Colorado of all places would have a decent tree topper.”

  “It’s all we have, and we’ll be grateful for it.” She reached up and placed one more red bulb on the tree before stepping back and admiring her work. “Not bad for no sentiment.”

  He laughed, knowing exactly what she meant. There were no homemade ornaments. No memories attached to a single one. No crappy little popsicle stick frame made in preschool with an embarrassing picture inside. That’s all his mom’s tree ever seemed to have on it. But it was full of love, and that’s what mattered.

  This one was pretty, picture perfect, but it was like every ex he ever had. Shallow. Hollow.