Chapter Three
As I walked through row after row of toys, Emma followed closely behind. Her fingers tapped together in an incessant rhythm, and I just knew she was itching to grill me.
I pretended to ignore her zeal as I perused the items marked for boys and girls on Santa’s nice list. Reaching out to an expensive looking train set, I read the tag. Some boy named Timmy was going to be exceptionally happy on Christmas morning. “This is amazing. How many toys are in this room?”
Completely ignoring my question and unable to contain herself, Emma came back with one of her own. “How did dinner go last night? Were you charming? Was he charming? Did the two of you fall madly in love and decide to get married right away?” She lifted my hand, searched it for a ring, and then dropped it with a look of disappointment upon finding it void of jewelry. “He didn’t even propose?”
“He didn’t,” I informed her, my voice lacking her dissatisfaction. “In fact, the two of us decided it would be best if we scrapped the whole Mrs. Claus idea.”
The color drained from Emma’s face, making her blonde curls appear almost neon. “You…you what?”
Leaving the room packed with toys, I entered the main workshop area. It was the room Emma had brought me through yesterday, yet it already felt like a lifetime ago. “Neither Chris nor I wish to get married, especially not to one another.” I shrugged and reached my hand out to brush over the knob on a large machine whose massive conveyor belt was spitting out an array of buttons.
At the end of the belt, elves came and went, sizing buttons to the toys they held. There were sock monkeys needing buttons for their eyes and superhero action figures needing tiny little buttons for their capes. I watched this all with fascination, my fingers touching the controls of the machine with feathery light brushes as I said, “He told me I could still hang around through the holiday and see how Christmas happens.”
Emma distractedly smacked my hand away from the controls. “This is very distressing news. I expected a minimal amount of resistance from Chris, but not you. You were supposed to be on my side!”
I offered her an impatient look, but it was hard to be annoyed with an elf. She was just so darned cute! “There shouldn’t be side taking where marriage is involved. Either a person wants to get married, or they don’t.” I gave her a pointed look. “We both don’t.”
“That’s impossible,” she argued. “What woman wouldn’t wish to marry Santa?”
My eyebrows arched at that. “Do you want to marry Santa?”
“Of course not!” she cried in horror. “Santa doesn’t marry elves! Besides, I have a crush on Ber—” She broke off abruptly. “Well, you never mind. We’re talking about you. Santa is rich and powerful and handsome. How could you not love him?” she wailed in dismay.
I hated to give my opinion of the man she obviously adored, but I didn’t see another choice. “Santa’s kind of…anti-social. He’s arrogant. He’s mean.” I was on a roll and couldn’t get myself to shut up. I began counting off all of Santa’s flaws on my fingers. “He’s self-centered. He’s egotistical. He’s short with me, and he’s got big feet.”
Emma gasped in horror, her tiny hand going up to cover her mouth. Around her, the other elves had grown silent and were staring at me with indignation in their eyes.
I realized too late that trashing Santa in front of all his elves might not have been the wisest idea. I let out a nervous laugh as I took in all the angry expressions around me. “That was…perhaps a little rash of me to say. I’m sure Chris is a wonderful man.”
Anxiously, I went to inch backwards out of the room away from all the glares, but my foot caught on a windup army man who was crawling on his belly across the floor behind me. I fell back, arms flailing. I caught myself on the button machine, my back slamming roughly against it.
A collective gasp rose up from the elves, and I cringed as the machine began to whir and chug in protest. Loud groans emitted from behind me as the device trembled and shook, sounding much like a washing machine with an overfull load.
“What buttons did you push?” a male elf frantically asked.
I idly noted that not all of the male elves were as silent as Bernie. Then realizing the gravity of the situation by all the worried faces locked onto me, I squeaked, “I don’t know.” Shoving away from the machine, I glanced behind me at the control panel. “All of them?”
A united groan swept through the crowd. Then the machine clunked to a stop, smoke rising ominously into the air.
The male elf’s eyes narrowed. “Get out,” he demanded, pointing a finger at the exit.
When I opened my mouth to protest, Emma cut me off. “You should probably go, Cara. We’ll need to assess the damage.” Trying to take the harshness out of her request, she added, “I’ll bring you breakfast in bed tomorrow morning.”
I nodded numbly, unable to believe I’d just been kicked out of Santa’s workshop. Bummer.
* * *
I’d just finished climbing into my silk pajamas after my shower for the night when there was a loud knock at my door. Someone had to be hammering their fist against the heavy wood pretty hard for me to have heard it all the way in the connecting bathroom.
I was just thinking I should never attempt to arm wrestle an elf if they had this much arm strength when I opened the door to find a very pissed off Chris on the other side.
He pushed into my room without waiting for an invitation.
Despite my annoyance with him, my traitorous eyes noted that though his broad shoulders were tense, they fit nicely in his skintight t-shirt. They also took note of how amazing his ass looked in those jeans.
He seemed oblivious to my ogling as he spun to face me with an expression of ire. “You broke the button machine?” he asked with a roar.
Damn. I’d nearly forgotten about that. Grimacing, I attempted to cool his temper. “It’s just a button machine,” I reasoned. “How important can it be?”
Unfortunately, my question only seemed to anger him more. “Only a button machine?” he raged, pacing the floor in front of me like a caged lion. I could see the strength in his body as he moved. Santa was dangerous. He was a ball of barely contained power just looking for an outlet. “Only a button machine?” he repeated in a raised voice of disbelief. “Do you know how many toys need buttons?”
I cringed at his fury. “A lot?” I asked questioningly.
“A whole hell of a lot! Do you think we can send out dolls that don’t have buttons on their dresses? What kind of Santa Claus would that make me? You’ve ruined Christmas!”
I snorted at his dramatics. “Oh, I did not!”
“Do you know how much extra work this puts on me?” he demanded. “Can you even comprehend how stressful this is?” He came to stand right in front of me, his emerald eyes glaring down into mine.
“As if you’ll be making the buttons yourself,” I shot back. “You’ll just bark orders, and the elves will be expected to hop to it.” I glared back at him, refusing to be intimidated.
“You think that’s all I do, bark orders?” His tone was full of incredulity.
“That’s what it looks like!” I knew blowing up at him wasn’t going to help anything, but I couldn’t stop myself. “You’re bossy. You’re arrogant. You don’t care about—” I broke off with a squeak when his lips suddenly crushed to mine.
Chris’s mouth was forceful and demanding, just like his personality. The things I’d listed as flaws didn’t seem so bad anymore. My arms wrapped around his neck as I arched up into his chest with a whimper of encouragement.
The sound that escaped me seemed to be all the incentive he needed to deepen the kiss. His palms grabbed my waist, and he yanked me closer.
I hit his chest with a thump that almost knocked the breath out of me. He was so solid and muscled. It felt as if it should be a crime for Santa to be this sexy. Unable to help myself, I slid my hands down his chest, caressing his pectoral muscles through his shirt.
With a possessive gro
wl, Chris spun me, slamming my back against the door.
I gave a gasp of surprise that drew a low, sexual chuckle from his throat. “Jump,” he instructed.
Knowing exactly what he wanted, I hopped up and wrapped my legs around his waist. My arms encircled his neck again as his hands moved to my thighs to support me.
“Tell me you want this is a much as I do,” he growled into my mouth. It seemed as if he couldn’t wait for my answer, because his lips pressed hungrily to mine before I could speak.
It took a few moments, but I finally found a space to admit, “I do.”
His mouth crushed to mine again at my confirmation, his lips rough and demanding. He used his hips to press me against the bedroom door as his hand inched under my top. His fingers found a breast and he groaned. His thumb grazed across one of my nipples, teasing it into a hardened bead.
His teeth tugged at my lower lip and his hips ground into mine. I could already feel his erection pressing persistently against my hip. I knew this was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t seem to get the protest to make its way past my lips. The two of us didn’t even like each other all that much. Angry sex with Chris would only lead to a very awkward morning, but with the hard lines of his body moving sensually against mine, I decided it was worth it.
I buried my hands in his hair, grazing my nails against his scalp. My back arched up and I gave a sharp gasp as he mirrored the action with his thumbnail against my nipple.
A low chuckle escaped him. Moving his upper body back ever so slightly, he kept me pinned to the door with his hips. Grasping my pajama top, he yanked it over my head and tossed it behind him into the bedroom.
His mouth was back on mine a second later, his hands exploring my breasts. Teasing. Kneading. He seemed to know just what to do to have me gasping and writhing beneath his skilled touch.
He lowered his mouth over one of my breasts and began licking very gently at my nipple. His tongue moved in slow, even strokes. Then suddenly he closed his teeth over my nipple and tugged.
My head slammed back against the door and I gave a cry of absolute pleasure. As I writhed under the ministrations of his tongue, the door rattled in its frame, drawing a chuckle from the man suckling at my breast.
Chris released his grip on me. Lowering my feet to the floor, he took a step back and licked his lips. A devilish grin crossed his face, then he reached out for me. Grabbing hold of my pajama shorts, he yanked me toward him.
Dropping to his knees in front of me, he tugged the shorts down around my ankles. When I obediently stepped out of them, he tossed them behind him into the room. As soon as they were out of his hand, he gripped my hips. With his fingers digging into my flesh, he lowered his head and began kissing a path along my waist.
When his tongue dipped into my bellybutton, I gasped. My body involuntarily jerked and I found myself pressed up against the door once again.
“If you’re ticklish,” Chris said, gazing up at me with fire in his eyes, “you’d better hold on.” He lowered his head and swirled his tongue around the rim of my bellybutton, dipping inside for the briefest moment before pulling out to repeat the process.
Taking his advice, I placed my hands on his shoulders, though it didn’t keep me from squirming as his tongue trailed south.
His teeth nipped at the flesh above my panty line before he continued on his downward spiral.
I felt his breath hot against the center of my panties a moment before his mouth descended on me. I gasped, my fingers clawing at his shoulders as he caressed his tongue along the strip of silk that separated him from my bare flesh.
Through the fabric, he pressed the tip of his tongue to my clit. He then moved in a slow circular pattern, stimulating me through the thin barrier. His fingers tightened on my hips and his tongue delved further, pressing between my pussy lips.
Without warning, he slipped my panties to the side and thrust a finger deep inside me. Ever so slowly, he drew it back out, dragging it along my inner walls to send a jolt of pleasure up my spine.
“Chris!” I cried in surprise, my back bending against the door. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought Santa Claus was a master at oral sex. His mouth hadn’t even made contact with my flesh, yet stars were dancing behind my eyes.
He thrust his finger into me once again. This time, a groan eased past his lips, vibrating through my clit. With a content sound of accomplishment, he pressed one last kiss against my panties before climbing to his feet. With his eyes locked on mine, he took the finger that had been inside of me and drew it into his mouth.
A tremor rocked through me, causing my legs to quiver. I’d never seen a man do something so completely erotic before in my life. The cocky smirk on his lips should have been a turn off, but it surprisingly had the opposite effect on me. It had me ready to rip his clothes off and teach him that he wasn’t the only person in the room with skills in the bedroom.
“Take your panties off and toss them across the room,” he demanded.
My eyebrows rose at the domineering tone in his voice, but I obeyed his command. Slipping the panties down my legs, I stepped out of them, taking my time to up his anticipation. Straightening, I tossed them somewhere to my left. “Happy?”
“Very.” His eyes perused my naked flesh, heat evident behind the jade-colored orbs. “Now go lay down on the bed.”
I let out a sound of disbelief at his second command in as many minutes. I had no problem with being aggressive where sex was concerned. Stepping back and letting Chris take complete control was a challenge. But the look in his eyes was so downright sexy that I found myself walking over to the bed and scooting myself to lie in its center.
Chris, still completely dressed, moved to stand at the foot of the bed. With his gaze traveling over my nude form, he toed off first one shoe, then the next. His shirt followed, revealing a smooth expanse of muscle and brawn.
Climbing onto the bed, he straddled my waist, pinning me down to the mattress. Collecting both of my hands in one of his, he raised my arms above my head and pinned my wrists to the blankets. Once he had me restrained, he let the fingers of his free hand dance down my chest. He teased my nipple with a gentle caress, his fingers brushing lightly over my sensitive flesh.
As he sat on top of me, pinning me down in every way possible, it suddenly hit me that Santa had a kinky side to him. He was so much more than the jolly bringer of Christmas spirit. He was the bringer of my every sexual fantasy.
I let out a soft whimper and arched up into his searching fingers. When he nudged my legs apart with his knee, I let them fall open without a single hesitation.
Still clad in his jeans, Chris knelt between my legs. He let his fingers travel down my belly, over my hips, and between my legs. He caressed the wetness he found there, dancing playfully around the spot where I yearned for him to touch most.
Finally allowing me what I wanted, he applied more pressure to my clit. His index finger rubbed against it, drawing as gasp from my throat. When I tugged against the hand that pinned my wrists to the mattress, he only chuckled.
Lowering himself to my body, he rocked his hips against mine. The movement was slow and direct, hitting me in just the right spot.
“Holy shit!” I cried in shock as the rough surface of his jeans scratched along my clit. It sent a wave of pleasure through me. The second press of his hips had my toes curling and desire washing over me. I tossed my head back with a gasp, and Chris took the opportunity to run his tongue up an imaginary path on my throat. His hips pressed against me again, and I shuddered. Shit. I was going to come. He hadn’t even gotten inside of me, and I was going to come.
As he fell into a rhythm, my hips arched off the bed to meet his thrusts. I pressed myself against the coarse fabric, my legs trembling as my body drew closer and closer to orgasm. “Chris…Chris…”
I tried to warn him that I was about to fall over the edge, but he crushed his mouth to mine, drowning out my voice. He thrust against me again, and it was impossible to h
old back. The orgasm slammed into me, bowing my back off the bed, and ripping a scream from my throat.
My nails dug into the flesh at his wrists, and I writhed. I writhed in every way possible. My arms tugged at his, trying to break free. My legs tightened around his hips. My breasts arched up into his chest, brushing against the dusting of blond hair.
When I finally came down from my exquisite high, Chris sat back on his knees and gazed down at me with an expression of pride. “Damn, that was sexy.” Flicking the button of his jeans, he popped it free. “Now it’s my turn.” Grabbing his wallet from his back pocket, he handed it to me. “There’s a condom in my wallet. Put it on me.”
I was too eager to protest. Fumbling for the little foil packet, I ripped it open and tossed the wrapper to the floor.
While I did that, Chris pushed his jeans over his hips. I was surprised to find him naked beneath them. As soon as the jeans were at his thighs, his cock sprang free.
I swallowed and took my time examining his body. His abdomen muscles were bunching and contracting with anticipation. His cock, thick and proud, bobbed for my attention. Eagerly, I rolled the condom down over his engorged flesh, moaning as his body reacted and his hips moved toward me.
Once he was sheathed in the rubber, Chris rolled onto his back. Guiding himself to my opening, he eased me down onto his erection.
I squeezed my eyes closed, reveling in the feel of his invasion. He was thick enough to give me a stretching sensation. As my body adjusted to his girth, I wiggled on top of him with pleasure.
“Your turn to call the shots,” he informed me, causing my eyes to flutter open. His arms reached up to rest behind his head. He stared up at me, a casual, lazy grin spreading across his lips. “Ride me.”
I scowled at him, at his barking demands, but my hips began moving of their own volition. I began moving slowly at first, allowing our bodies to get accustomed with one another. My eyes were on his face, taking in his every reaction. The way his eyes followed my breasts as I moved on top of him was sexier than I wanted to admit. I bit my lower lip, arching my back so that my breasts jutted out for his examination. My fingers closed over the jeans that still cased his legs, gripping them for support.
Saving Santa (Romance on the Go) Page 2