We Wish You A Naughty Christmas: A Christmas Collection

by Skye Warren

  Maybe he really was looking for someone normal to like him for him. I didn’t know if that could be me, but I had to admit that I was interested. Trent was gorgeous, rich, and exciting, but he was a total stranger. And a little crazy, that was for sure. But he was interesting, and that was more than I could say about the guy I’d been seeing lately.

  “Okay,” I said finally. “What’s this last clue?”

  He grinned. “I’m glad you asked.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper, holding it up. “Here’s a check for twenty grand. See?”

  I took a look. It was in fact a real-looking check, handwritten and made out to a group called Toys for Tots.

  “Looks real,” I said.

  “Okay, good. If you win this next challenge, I’ll mail this check off and that’ll be that.”

  “Challenge?”

  He grinned. “That’s right. Challenge.”

  “What’s the challenge?”

  “First, I need to know that you’re ready and that you can handle this.”

  “I don’t know what I have to handle.”

  “That’s okay. Do you want to continue? If you do and you win, you’ll get whatever you want from me, and I’ll mail this check.”

  “If I lose?”

  “The kids only get fifteen grand. And we part ways forever.”

  “Not too bad.”

  He grinned. “The kids will still be happy.”

  “I’m a little nervous that you’re not telling me what’s coming next.”

  “I know. Are you brave, Laney?”

  No, I really wasn’t. I’d never done anything like this before, never even remotely like this. I was a normal person and kept to myself mostly. I wasn’t adventurous and was afraid of getting mugged if I even walked home alone. That I was being so crazy and putting myself out there was totally unusual, like a small miracle or something. I wasn’t brave, at all.

  But I wanted to be. I wanted to be someone more, someone better. Just like Trent wanted to be with someone that didn’t only care about his money, I wanted to be someone that wasn’t so restrained by fear.

  I didn’t know if this was my chance to do that, or if there would be other chances, but I was there. I was sitting in that basement with the rich stranger, playing his game, so close to finishing. I couldn’t give up when I was so close to winning. I didn’t know if I wanted my final prize, but at least I knew I was willing to give it a try. I had to follow through.

  “Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll do it.”

  His face lit up. “Awesome,” he said. “You’re going to love this.”

  He stood and offered me his hand. I hesitated, nervous, but stood and took it. He led me through a side room and down a long hallway lit with torches, actual torches. The carpet under our feet was thick and red, and the hall was barely more than a rough-hewn tunnel in the earth.

  “Where are we going?” I asked him.

  “You’ll see. It’s not much further.”

  “It’s super creepy down here. Are you sure you’re not a serial killer?”

  “I promise I’m not,” he said, laughing. “I know this has been super weird, but you’re going to like this part.”

  I nodded and didn’t say anything as we approached the end of the hall. There was a single large wooden door with a thick, heavy brass doorknob. He stopped and looked at me.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “I’m ready.”

  He grinned, kissed me on the lips, and then threw open the door.

  Chapter 7

  I’m Going To Kick Your Ass

  The goggles were surprisingly light as Mikey helped me strap them on and adjust them.

  “Good?” he asked. “Anything rubbing or too tight?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s fine.”

  “You afraid yet?” Trent called out.

  “Not remotely,” I said, grinning, though I knew he couldn’t see me.

  “You’re going down, Laney.”

  “I doubt it. You don’t know what you just walked into.”

  He laughed. Mikey helped me down into my seat, gently lowering me and placing my hands on the wheel.

  “Now, it’s just like driving a normal car. But, you know, virtual reality.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good luck,” he said softly. “I’d love to see someone take this guy down.”

  “Don’t worry. I got this.”

  I heard him laugh and shuffle off.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what was waiting on the other side of that door. I expected some kind of obstacle course, or maybe like a quiz or something like that. Instead, four geeks in lab coats were standing around two large machines that looked like gutted cars. Cables and wires were lining everything, rolling and running all over the place. The room was pretty large, about as big as a three-car garage. Two cars took up most of the room, and a weird little command console took up the rest of it.

  Trent explained right away what we were doing. Apparently, one of his companies was developing a deep immersion virtual reality racing game, one that involved wearing the VR goggles and gloves, but also involved being in a car that moved and shook. He showed me how the gutted cars were attached to suspensions that could move and shake. He introduced me to the techs, Mikey, Vikram, Sanjay, and Reginald.

  “This is your last challenge,” he said. “You’re going to race me. If you win, you win. If you lose, well, that’s it. It’s all on this.”

  I didn’t tell him at the time that I was freaking good at racing games.

  I grew up with two brothers, and both of them were car freaks. They used to drag race when they were in high school and they were constantly forcing me to play every single racing game they could get their hands on. After a while, I actually got pretty good at them.

  It was a stupid coincidence, but it felt like divine intervention. If we were playing any other kind of video game, virtual reality or not, I would have lost. But a racing game? I had a real shot, but he had no clue.

  So I let them set me up. They placed the VR goggles over my face, explained how they fit and worked, and put gloves over my hands. Mikey and Vikram showed me how to manipulate the car, basically a normal car, and they walked me through what VR would feel like.

  “Have you ever had a dream that felt so real you didn’t want to wake up?” Mikey asked me.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “VR is like that, except you’re also at sea. Do you get motion sick?”

  “No,” I said. “Not that I know of.”

  “Good. VR makes some people motion sick. If you feel like you’re getting a little queasy, just say something and we’ll turn off the sim.”

  “Would I lose if that happens?” I asked.

  Mikey grinned. “Probably.”

  I wasn’t going to stop the sim, even if I did feel sick. They strapped me in, got me in the car, and that was how I found myself staring into darkness, holding onto a steering wheel.

  It was so crazy and not at all what I expected, but I was incredible excited.

  “You doing okay over there?” I heard Trent call out.

  “I’m good,” I said. “Just getting ready to kick your ass.”

  He laughed. “Good luck,” he said.

  “Okay, you two.” Mikey’s voice cut through our banter. “We’re going to get it started on my mark. Are you ready?”

  “Ready,” I said.

  “Ready,” Trent said.

  “Okay. Three, two, one. Deep breath.”

  Chapter 8

  Virtual Reality, Like Real Reality But Better

  I swore I could feel the sun through the front windshield warming my skin, but of course that couldn’t be true. I was really sitting in a basement inside of a state of the art virtual reality gaming rig about to play a video game for charity and maybe for sex, but it didn’t feel that way.

  It was so freaking real. I could see the grass on the infield and the tarmac of the racetrack. I could definitely feel the
engine of my car vibrating beneath me.

  There were some things that were off. For example, I couldn’t smell the car. And my perspective was a little skewed, I couldn’t see my body at all. And of course, I felt the weight of the goggles on my face.

  Otherwise, it was amazing. It was so immersive, I felt like I was really sitting behind the wheel of a rumbling, powerful racecar.

  And I loved it. I couldn’t believe how much I loved it. Excitement coursed through my body.

  “You ready for this, sweetheart?”

  His voice appeared suddenly in my ear, making me nearly jump.

  “I’m ready, dickhead,” I replied, not sure if he’d hear.

  But I heard him laugh. It sounded like he was coming in through an intercom in my helmet (though of course I wasn’t really wearing a helmet). “Don’t be too confident, girly girl. I’m pretty good at this.”

  “You don’t know it, but if there’s one game I’m good at, it’s racing games.”

  “Wait, really?”

  I revved the engine of my car and grinned to myself. “Scared?”

  “Not at all.” He sounded excited.

  “Good. Get ready to have your ass beat.”

  “Bring it on.”

  The light ahead of us began to change. The countdown beeps began, starting with red, moving into yellow, inching toward green. My foot revved the engine, getting ready, my heart beating fast. I looked to my left and saw Trent’s car, his own engine revving.

  The light hit green. I let out the clutch and screamed forward.

  I whooped with laughter as my car hit the track, Trent just ahead of me. I couldn’t believe how real it felt as we screamed around the first turn, Trent still ahead of me. I could feel the car rumbling beneath me, feel it turning and dipping to the side. I could feel the pressure of the car all around me, feel the speed underneath me. It was so real, so incredibly real, and it took me almost a full lap before I began to really get over it and start driving.

  “You’re losing, sweetheart,” Trent said in my ear.

  “Five laps to go and I’m right on your tail.”

  “You’ll never get past me. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  I hit the gas and swerved right. As he went to correct, I released the gas, slammed the wheel left, and then floored it. I jumped ahead, getting my nose right up his tail, flying up beside him. For a second, we were neck and neck until we hit the turn. I overtook him on the curve and he dropped in behind me.

  I let out a wild laugh. We jockeyed like that back and forth for the next lap.

  “You weren’t kidding,” he said in my intercom. “You are good at this.”

  “I told you. My brothers taught me well.”

  “Too bad this is my game. I never lose.”

  “How many girls have you brought down here?”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “No, I’m genuinely curious.”

  “Just a few. They never beat me. Poor kids never get their money.”

  “Poor girls never get their final prize.”

  He roared with laughter, and I took that opportunity to pull ahead of him again. I put a little distance on the curve, hugging the inner line as close as I possibly could.

  “That was some trick,” he said, “distracting me like that.”

  “You’re just too easy.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. No more messing around now.”

  “Bring it on.”

  We were flying down the track, driving faster than I’d ever driven. Although in the back of my mind I knew I wasn’t moving an inch, I still felt like I was flying, and I felt free.

  It was a feeling I’d never experienced before. It was a rush of excitement, of possibility, of amazing adrenaline all wrapped into one. I knew none of it was real but it didn’t matter, because in that moment I felt like it was real.

  And I was winning. We had two laps to go and I was in the lead. I worked hard to keep him off my ass, not giving him an inch, not risking a last minute pass. I had to drive perfectly, or else he’d get me.

  The competition was bringing the best of out me. I couldn’t remember the last time I played one of these games, and yet it felt like I never left the wheel. It all came rushing back as I tore down the track, keeping Trent firmly behind me.

  We moved through the finish line and I saw the white flag waving, indicating the last lap.

  “Ready for this?” Trent asked.

  “Come on, big boy, bring it on.”

  I clutched the wheel, flooring it down the straightaway, as Trent inched up behind me. I faked out and went in, hugging that inner line, and Trent came soaring up along the turn. He inched up next to me, but I was still ahead. He was playing a dangerous game, driving as fast as he could around that curve without losing control of his car. If he went just a little too fast and his car hit a weird angle, he’d spin out and wreck.

  That didn’t matter. I was ahead. I had to concentrate and keep that inner lane. We came up to the next turn, and again Trent took it like a crazy man, getting even closer. When we came off the turn and into the final straightaway, we were neck and neck.

  I floored it, willing my car to go faster, faster. I couldn’t help but whoop and cheer wildly as the finish line approached and he was right next to me, inches away, inches away, inches away, and then we crossed, whizzing past, and I screamed with laughter.

  On the windshield was the word “WINNER” in big, bold letters.

  “I got you!” I screamed, laughing. “I won!”

  “Congrats,” he said, and then the world around me began to dissolve. “When do you want your prize?

  Chapter 9

  All I Want For Christmas Is Your Big . . . Smile.

  Mikey helped me get the goggles off and I climbed out of the car, absolutely elated.

  “That was amazing!” I said. “Seriously, it felt so real.”

  “Thanks,” Vikram said. “We’ve been working hard on this.”

  “They’re amazing, these guys,” Trent said, walking over.

  “I beat you!” I laughed and ran over to him, throwing my arms around him.

  I didn’t even think twice about it. I wrapped him up into a big hug and he laughed, lifting me up off my feet.

  “Congrats,” he said. “You’re the first to beat me.”

  “That was so amazing! We were neck and neck, you drove so well on those turns! Man, you would have had me if I hadn’t made that early pass.”

  He grinned and nodded. “You’re really good at that.”

  “Thanks so much for this, Trent. Seriously.”

  “I told you that I’m not a serial killer.”

  “Not too late for that,” I joked.

  He grinned. “Good point.”

  “So, do the kids get their money?”

  He nodded. “I’m a man of my word. Janine!”

  I looked over and saw that attractive blonde woman from before walk into the room. Trent handed her the check and she smiled at me. “Congrats, Laney,” she said before leaving.

  “She’ll post it for us.”

  “That’s your secretary?”

  “Personal assistant.” He shrugged. “She’s really good.”

  “I bet.”

  He grinned. “Jealous?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I’m sure.” He stepped lose to me. “So, about your prize.”

  “Trent—“

  “Wait. Just come with me.”

  I blinked, surprised, and nodded. He took me by the hand and we left through a different room, waving to the geeks as we went.

  We moved down another, shorter hallway before walking into a circular room with a huge bed in the middle. There was a small bar off to the side and soft jazz music played. The bed was big and velvet, more like a couch, with tons of pillows all over it.

  “Here,” he said, popping the cork off a champagne bottle. He poured two glasses, handed me one, and we toasted. “To your win.”


  “Is this your sex room?” I asked him.

  He laughed. “Not at all,” he said. “It’s just a comfortable room, that’s all.”

  “Sure,” I said, grinning.

  “You don’t seem too upset about the idea of a sex room,” he pointed out.

  “I guess I’m not.”

  “Well, well, Janey. Are you the dirty girl I always thought you were?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But this night has been amazing. I’ve done things I never thought I’d do.” I shrugged, shaking my head. I felt totally crazy, still hopped up on adrenaline and excitement, and really, Trent was absolutely gorgeous. Why not give in and find out what it would be like to sleep with a billionaire? I’d already done everything I wanted. I should go ahead and finish the night the right way.

  He smiled and took me into his arms. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said softly.

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He grinned and then did exactly that. I fell into his arms, melting into the kiss, letting him take me the way I wanted him to.

  We slowly moved over toward the bed, dropping our mostly full glasses on the way. He stripped off my shirt and took off my bra in a passionate frenzy. I pulled off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt as he slowly slipped his hands down my jeans.

  He found my soaking pussy and began to slowly rub my clit. I moaned, biting down onto his shoulder as I finished removing his shirt. Raw fire ripped through my body and I realized that I was wetter than I could have guessed.

  “I knew you were different,” he whispered. “You’re dripping wet, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I moaned as he pressed his fingers inside of me. “Shit, I’m so wet.”

  “You’re dripping for me, you dirty girl. Are you that excited?”