Holiday Spice & Everything Nice

by Conn, Claudy

  How was the thought of him wanting her, someone he barely knew, not creeping her the eff out? It should have flags up all over the place. Instead it made her feel beautiful and very, very, very wet. She needed to derail her line of thinking quickly. There were four bazillion reasons why allowing herself to enter into this, whatever it was, was a horrible idea. No, she needed to be responsible and sensible.

  Opening her gift, she discovered an array of items from the salon she had attended earlier. All items she had admired while letting her deep conditioning treatment do its thing. Jason was quite the little spy. How had Marcus managed to buy and deliver these items in the time it took her to pick up enough insta-noodles and cereal for the week? He wasn’t messing around.

  Was he all about the chase? Many guys were. They would pursue and pursue a girl, get in her pants, and then they were outta there. She had seen it time and time again in college. True, they were boys and Marcus was a man, yet it was a very real possibility. None of the women he dated lasted beyond an event or two, according to the water cooler gossip.

  It didn’t make sense, though. Why go through all the trouble? He had to know he disarmed her with his smexiness, and it wasn’t like girls like her had men knocking down the doors. She worked all the time, rarely put on make-up, and stuck to herself.

  If he wasn’t about the chase, though, what was he after? Surely he didn’t want to date an employee openly. That would be a disaster for both of them. Not that she would be someone’s dirty little secret. But it was possible he wanted her to be.

  Her head was spinning, and she accomplished nothing except to spin her mind all in a tizzy. She would just have to ask him. Yeah, that was it. She would have to ask him. Not that she actually would. Sometimes she was far too much of a chicken for her own good.

  Lacey took a shower, washing away the day’s grit and her hair. The fancy products Jason used smelled delicious, but sleeping on hair that didn’t quite move was not for her.

  There was no doubt about it, she would be thinking of Marcus as she went to bed, just like she did every night. This time would be different, though. He would know what she was doing, and possibly imagining her hands wandering down her … no she wouldn’t let her mind go there. She was practical … damn it.

  A quick rinse off and towel dry later, Lacey climbed into bed as naked as the day she was born. The gift for the next day beckoned her from her nightstand. She wasn’t ten, though, and it would sit there until morning. Reaching over to turn out her light, her clock radio turned over to midnight.

  It was fate.

  Lacey sat up and grabbed the package. It was, after all, officially Sunday.

  Reaching in the bag, Lacey removed the mounds of tissue paper. Peering over the top of the bag, her eyes widened in shock. It was her cell phone, case and all. No that wasn’t right. She had her phone charging on the nightstand. Turning the bag upside down, she unceremoniously dumped it onto her bed. Attached to the case was a stickie note.

  Turn me on.

  Unlike the previous notes, this one was handwritten. She obeyed the directions, unable to stop herself, to find a picture of Santa set as the wallpaper and a text alert.

  This is my number. I didn’t know yours, so I figured this was the next best thing. Message me whenever you want.

  Her phone was a clearance throw-away with no texting and enough minutes for emergencies but not enough to actually call anyone for fun. She had given the number to no one but the hospital, a fact that very much annoyed human resources. She had been with the company for years before she lost her landline, so there wasn’t anything they could do about it, but monthly she got a “friendly” reminder that her file needed updating.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she messaged back.

  Why messaging and not calling? The whole thing was surreal. In one day he gave her a royal beauty treatment, pampering products for home, and a cell phone complete with service and her favorite artist on the cell phone case. In return, he had so far asked for nothing and, quite honestly, she didn’t think he would. He didn’t seem the type.

  Because, beautiful, my identity is a secret. I see you waited until Sunday to open your gift. Busted. Two minutes after midnight she was texting him, of course he figured it out. Wait, what? Did he call her beautiful? She reread the text twice.

  I did. I like rules.

  Works for me, I like making them.

  She chuckled at his response before rereading it and questioning whether he was serious or not. If he was, would that be bad? Being told what to do in the bedroom always entered her nocturnal fantasies no matter how they started out. She really did like rules. They made sense and took away the need to make even more decisions than she already had to, daily. Many of them over the past few years, and life or death decisions at that.

  I think I know who you are. She counted to three before hitting send. Did she really want to lay it out there like that? One press of send later and the answer no longer mattered. What was done was done.

  I know you do. Are you ready to admit it and move past the charade?

  Was she? If she told him who he was, it changed everything on one fell swoop. The bigger question was if that change would be worth it.

  Ummm, it depends.

  On?

  On why me and what will it mean? Darn messaging made it too easy for her to spew out what she was thinking. Without him there looking at her, she just let it all out. Oh well. Better now than after her heart was on the line.

  Why you? That answer takes more than a message can hold. What will it mean? I have no idea yet. That depends on you.

  “Uggggg.” Lacey shook her head in frustration. That was the biggest non-answer yet. “More than a message can hold”? Depends on her? She wanted hard facts to base practical decisions on, was that too much to ask? The answer was a very clear “yes.”

  How?

  Did you want a naughty gift Monday?

  Did she? Absolutely. More than anything, but that didn’t mean she would choose it. No. Maybe. Heck, she didn’t know any more. The disappointment that hit her when she discovered no naughty package today had her questioning all things. She wanted to cave so very badly. If the lawyer called tomorrow saying she had gotten her mother’s medical approved, Lacey would pick naughty. With her mother’s care still on the line if she messed up her job, she wasn’t so sure. Marcus didn’t seem the type to fire without cause, and while she wasn’t a social butterfly in the office, if he was, it surely would have hit her ears.

  A text notification pulled her from her thoughts.

  You are not responding. I will take that as an “I’m not ready” and bid you good night.

  I’m not. Are you mad? She held her breath waiting for a reply as she watched him start to type on the notification screen.

  Absolutely not, beautiful. I’m a patient man and I have every confidence that you are worth the wait. Goodnight and think of me.

  Again with the beautiful. Why did her life have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t she simply be a twenty something year old saying yes to the hot guy pursuing her? Because life and adulting sucked sometimes. That was why. She sighed, flopping back onto her pillow, phone in hand as she typed her reply. Her very safe, very boring reply.

  Goodnight.

  Turning off the phone, she did exactly as he requested and thought of him as her hand wandered down to her achy, needy core. This time she pretended he was directing her as she brought herself to climax, no shame in her mind’s naughty wanderings. If she were a betting gal, she would bet it all that he too was having some bedtime solitary fun.

  Chapter 6

  Naughty.

  The tag tormented her. Secret Santa was eight days in, ten if you included the weekend spoiling, and she absolutely loved each and every one of the extravagant offers each of the nice labels had given her, especially the phone. Not that she used it to download apps or message friends. She used it exclusively with him.

  So far he had left her multiple
brief messages, each time addressing her as beautiful, and each time making her weak in the knees. They weren’t naughty or even overly innuendo filled. They were just random little messages, but they captivated her. Even the one with a knock knock joke had her wanting more, and that was saying something.

  They hadn’t talked again like they had the first evening, but the sweet messages were enough. She knew he was waiting for her. It was her decision when to move past the Secret Santa cover and into actual … well, something. Most likely something hot, sweaty, and naked—at least in her imagination, that was how it ended up.

  There was the nagging voice inside telling her to pick the naughty gift today. It didn’t help that her Sunday plans had changed when an emergency visit by the hot water repairman required she either sit at home waiting for him to arrive in the “convenient” four hour window they gave or allow the creepy building manager to do so for her. It amazed even Lacey how many times she could replay and dissect the week’s events, especially Marcus’s stop at her desk and her first text with him, in those almost four hours.

  Marcus.

  His presence at her desk the week before had unsettled her in the best of ways. Opening the naughty gift could lead to her sexy dreams coming true. Or maybe not? Had she imagined the sexual tension between them, or was it all one sided? True, he had called her beautiful, but Jason called her sweetie and he was more interested in what was in Marcus’s pants than in hers. True, he outright said he wanted her to choose the naughty gift. Maybe naughty was coal? After all, naughty kids got coal from the jolly man. Maybe he was being funny? No, that wasn’t right. He wanted her. The bigger question was: is it worth the risk? There was still that two percent of her not quite positive it was him.

  Logically speaking, how many people could it actually be? True, she was nowhere near the top of the totem pole when it came to salaries, but even without the bills she had hanging around her neck, she wouldn’t be able to buy half the gorgeous things she had been given. No, it had to come from someone in a higher position with one of the salaries saved for people with actual offices, the kind with both walls and doors.

  She’d had her share of drink invites when she first started at the company. Sometimes it was the women all going to happy hour, but more often than not it was one of the men in her then department. It could possibly be one of them. With her luck, it was Creepy Carl. He was the most persistent, and once she spread the lie that she was taken, he had stopped the invitations to Thursday happy hour at the bar across the street, something she very much appreciated.

  The leering never ended though, which fostered her application to the department she was currently in. Thankfully, it turned out to be an excellent career move and she got a promotion her second month there. It was a stretch and a half to imagine that someone called Creepy Carl would buy thoughtful gifts, even if his intent was to lull her into naughtiness of some kind. He was the type to throw a dollar store perfume in a used gift bag and parade it around as a nice gift. Probably the female version of the malodorous one he liked to bathe in at that.

  Whomever it was, was upping their game. No longer were two identical packages, except for the label, greeting her as she came into work. This week they were as different as night and day. The nice package today, wrapped in a childlike Santa paper, was a traditional shirt sized box. Nothing spectacular to be sure. The naughty gift glowed in golden paper, a sparkly ribbon, and a Christmas ornament arrangement instead of a bow, shouting at her, “Open me.”

  But dare she? What if it wasn’t him? If anyone else revealed themselves as her Secret Santa she’d be crushed. The gifts would be just as magnificent as they ever were and the words just as sweet, but her heart had finally let itself believe that it could truly be him.

  The night before she had a very vivid fantasy of his reveal, including him revealing all things as her hand wandered down the front of her panties. In her fantasy he wasn’t only well endowed, as were the rumors according to Jason, but he knew how to use it. Yeah, her brain had headed straight to the gutter, and she was loving it.

  She poured herself a bit of coffee from her thermos as she spotted Marcus. He was wandering through, most likely on his way to a meeting. Her hand flew of its own accord to the nice gift and threw it behind her. There was no way she wanted to be caught mid-decision yet again.

  “Want me to deliver your gift for you?” His hand held the naughty gift moments after he reached her desk. How the heck did he get there so fast? His face sparkled with mischief. Darn man had planned this, forcing her hand. Or was it? Maybe he was giving her a way out. Did she want it? That was the real question.

  “No. I’ll take care of it.” Lacey reached for the package, which he quickly placed behind his back.

  “You really took your time jazzing it up with that ornament.” Martha, a former cubical mate, appeared out of nowhere, her eyes on the gift Marcus quickly moved back in front, his thumb expertly placed over the label.

  “That one’s mine.” Lacey grabbed it and slapped it into her messenger bag with all of the grace of an ape dancing ballet.

  “Sure I can’t deliver it for you? I’m pretty sly.” He winked at her, a playful smirk on his face.

  “That would be lovely.” She grabbed the Santa wrapped gift and held it out to him, the only option she felt remotely comfortable given the situation at hand.

  “Do you know who has me?” poor Martha whispered, completely ignoring the awkward situation she had walked into and the fact that her boss was standing right there. Not even her boss, her boss’s boss’s boss’s boss.

  Lacey shook her head in reply, willing the woman to leave. She was nice enough, but Lacey wanted to get her nice gift back. Or did she? She couldn’t even process with the woman standing there all chatty chatty as Marcus smirked on in his foreplay suit.

  “Well if you figure it out, thank her for the awesome tea strainer, will you? It works so much better than the one I was using before.”

  Lacey nodded again and pulled on her inner secret power to make the woman disappear back from hence she came, which of course didn’t work.

  “Are you up for a cookie swap?” Martha looked to Marcus, then to Lacey, and back to Marcus, extending the invitation to them both. “A few of us are thinking about setting one up, so we don’t have to make as many batches as normal and still have a ton of cookies.”

  “If you ever tasted my cookies, you would know that’s a bad idea.” Lacey gave Marcus her best make it stop look. “It’s best for everyone if I take a pass.”

  “Would you like to come?” Martha looked to Marcus.

  “While I appreciate the hospitality, I’m sure you felt obligated to extend the invite to me since I was here, so I will give you an out and take a polite pass.”

  Martha just stared at him, most likely unsure as to how to precede.

  “Lacey, I’ll be sure to deliver this very nice gift for you presently.”

  Lacey’s heart pounded in her chest. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? He removed all remains of secrecy with one sentence. True, she knew and he knew she knew, but there had been that small veil covering complete certainty. He’d ripped that veil down with one sentence. Marcus was her Secret Santa, and he wanted her to know.

  Why did Martha need to be here now of all times? They hadn’t had a conversation in weeks, yet there she stood in all her poorly timed glory.

  “You don’t have to do that. Truly.”

  “You have no idea what a pleasure it is for me to take this plain, boring, practical gift from you.” He winked. Bastard knew her hands were tied with Martha standing there all clueless and annoyingly chatty.

  “Yes, Mr. Northrop. I would greatly appreciate it.” She forced the words for Martha’s benefit.

  “I think your decision today has us more on a first name basis, don’t you?” He winked as his pants began to buzz. This time it was not only Lacey’s eyes that fell to his crotch. Martha’s gaze had Lacey’s claws ready to come out. What the heck? S
he needed to reign it in and fast.

  “I think there has been a misunderstanding,” she pleaded as she realized the impact of her decision.

  He glanced at his phone. The smirk on his face and glint in his eyes disappeared and his business-like demeanor, the one he most often wore, was slapped into place.

  “I need to get this.” He gave both ladies a nod before answering and slowly walking away.

  “Northrup. Brilliant. Absolutely. Set it up for three and please cancel my dinner plans with the Sanders for Friday. It looks like plans I thought were going to fall through this evening are back on.”

  Hearing only half the conversation had her imagination soring. Was she the plans? Did she have a date? She was jumping the gun based on eavesdropping, never a good idea. She just needed to be patient and let it play out. Playing out while watching his ass draped in perfect fitting dress pants made the waiting part far less challenging.

  Chapter 7

  A very lonely Martha, six phone calls, and two meetings later and Lacey was finally alone. Whipping out her phone, she began to type all of the questions on her mind, no longer letting her practical side win. The dice were already cast. If this was going to end poorly, she might as well enjoy it until it did.

  Why me? Seriously, there are so many gorgeous, wealthy women throwing themselves at you all of the time and many of them are models. That is so not me. And why did you force my hand today of all days? The Santa paper was a nice touch by the way; although, if you hadn’t walked by I probably would have picked it because it looked fun and not as stuffy as the other one, but that doesn’t matter, does it, since I no longer have the choice.

  Her fingers were going a mile a minute. She purposefully didn’t overthink words and just let them flow. She had to or they would stay bottled up inside her, and that got nobody anywhere. She continued.