Chris gave a growl. His arched his hips roughly off the bed, and he drove himself into me with force.
With a self-satisfied smile at his reaction, I leaned over him. While my hips rocked against his, I drew his lip between my teeth and gently bit down.
Suddenly, his mouth was battling with mine, his tongue demanding access. We kissed each other with desperation, our bodies slamming together with each shift of hips, each movement.
Chris’ hands came from behind his head to grasp my hips. He pulled me forcefully down onto his cock, a rugged groan escaping him. “Fuck me, Cara,” he demanded. “Fuck me hard.”
Once again, I obeyed his command. My hips rocked so hard and fast against his, that I feared I might break him. I’d never felt anything so desperate, so intense. When I came, it was with a blinding ecstasy.
Chris shouted his completion. Scrambling to a sitting position, he pressed his palm against my back and held me against him as he emptied himself into the condom. His lips were still on mine, feathering me with light kisses while we both rode out our orgasms.
I shifted on his lap so I could wrap my legs around his waist. My arms slipped around his back, and my chest pressed to his. With ragged breaths forcing their way from my lungs, I let my lips brush against his. Each rise of my chest had us grazing against one another, our lips barely touching in a non-kiss that was unbelievably erotic.
As Chris fell back against my pillow with a tired groan, pulling me down with him, I realized I’d just had the most amazing sex of my life – with Santa Claus.
Chapter Four
I awoke naked under a crimson down comforter with little green holly leaves stitched into the square patches. I was alone. There were no signs of Chris to be found, but my clothing was littered across the room. I caught sight of my panties hanging haphazardly from the tall, oak dresser and gave a groan. I’d slept with Santa Claus. Crap.
Of all the nightmarish hookups a girl could have, Chris Kringle had to be right up there near the top. He was conceited and vain. He was rude. But damn he was sexy. I couldn’t be blamed for falling victim to that devilish grin.
Sighing, I decided there was no sense stalling. I would need to face Chris sooner or later. We were both grown adults. We could transition into a pleasant friendship without things being weird. Right?
I was just climbing out of bed when the door opened and Emma walked in. With a yelp, I lunged back under the blankets, frantically making sure my breasts were covered.
My sudden movements caught her attention. Her expression became one of shock as she took in my disheveled appearance. “You didn’t!” Dropping the tray of pancakes in her hands to the floor, she raced over and hopped up onto the bed, bouncing eagerly on her knees. “You slept with Santa! How wonderful!”
I cringed, angling away from her as she practically yanked the blanket off of me with her bouncing. “I guess.”
“You guess?” she squeaked in delight. “Sexual intercourse with Santa Claus in his home during the Christmas season is a binding agreement. You’ve taken the first step in becoming Mrs. Claus! It must have been so magical.”
“I’ll admit it was nice, but…” I trailed off in horror as her words sunk in. “Wait! What? It’s what?”
“A binding agreement,” Emma repeated. “Santa is to be abstinent during the Christmas season unless he’s chosen a Mrs. Claus, especially in this house. There’s Christmas magic in the air.” With a beaming smile on her face, she asked, “How does it feel to be immortal?”
“Immortal?” I yelped in astonishment. I was still caught up on the whole ‘binding agreement’ thing. I was in no way prepared to even broach the subject of immortality. Neither one was something a girl did on a whim.
“Isn’t it great?” Emma asked with glee.
“I need to talk to Chris.” Suddenly not caring about my state of undress, I jumped out of bed and grabbed my luggage. Tossing it onto the bed, I yanked the zipper open and began choosing things to wear at random.
I tugged up a pair of bright red panties with a Santa hat across the butt. Not even caring that it clashed, I shrugged into an electric blue bra. I then threw on a plain white t-shirt and hopped into a pair of tiny, plaid shorts. Forgoing socks, I pulled on a pair of snow boots.
I was marching toward the door when Emma called out, “Maybe you should brush your hair?”
I glanced at my disheveled appearance in the mirror on the wall as I pushed out into the hallway. “No time.”
* * *
There you are,” I accused, pushing my way into the elf workshop.
Chris was bent over the broken button machine, a wrench in hand. He straightened, wiped the greasy wrench on a rag that sat on top of the machine, and then turned to face me. “Did you need something?” His calm, neutral tone only managed to rile me up more.
“How about let’s start with an apology?”
“An apology?” he asked, blond brows knitting together in confusion.
“You knew what the consequences of last night were!” Marching forward, I slapped his arm a few times in frustration. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” he admitted guiltily.
“Damn right you weren’t!” I started on a rant over how irresponsibly he’d behaved but realized after a minute that he was no longer paying attention to what I was saying. “Hello!”
His gaze lifted from my breasts where the blue bra was showing plainly through my top. “Sorry. That’s…quite an outfit.”
“Forget about my outfit!” I shot him a glare that would have had the Grinch cringing.
My dirty look only brought a sparkle to his eyes. “Sorry,” he said again, not sounding as if he really meant it. He let his gaze sweep along my breasts a second time before returning his attention to the button machine. “Listen, it’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it. You’re temporarily immortal. Go nuts. Participate in dangerous sports, go skiing down a tree-covered slope, whatever tickles your fancy. Once you leave here, the effects will fade, and you can happily return to your mundane life. You’d only become truly immortal if we finished the entire ritual.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “Oh.” It took me a moment to realize he’d insulted my normal, elfless life back home, and I frowned. “Mundane?”
He ignored my question and continued with his explanation. “Unless we’re married by Christmas Eve, you turn back into a pumpkin, princess.” He gave me an almost dismissive wave of his hand. “We did a reckless thing last night, but no harm was really done. We had a good time,” he said simply. “There’s no need to make it any more dramatic than that.”
I faltered at his casual demeanor. “Oh,” I repeated at a loss for words. I don’t know what I’d expected of him, but this almost indifferent attitude hadn’t been it. Just to make sure I had things perfectly clear, I asked, “So last night was just a fun time? Nothing more?”
“Nope,” he agreed with distraction as he tightened a bolt on the machine in front of him. “Nothing more.”
“You’re not trying to trick me into becoming Mrs. Claus against my will?” I pressed.
Chris let his gaze flick over me for a moment before he snickered and returned to the machine. “Definitely not. I already told you I don’t want to get married.”
“Good,” I said with forced feeling. I was too confused over his snicker to really have much punch behind my words. Was my outfit that terrible? “I don’t want to get married either,” I reminded him.
“Perfect.”
His preoccupied tone caused my frown to deepen. He was barely paying attention to me! The least he could do was listen while I let him off the hook for seducing me and making me immortal against my wishes. “What are you doing?” I asked shortly, frustration plainly showing through.
Chris moved to crouch next to the access panel on the side of the machine. “I’m fixing the button machine.” His green eyes lifted to mine. “You broke it, remember?”
“Of course I remember,” I snapped in irr
itation. “It only happened yesterday. I’m just asking why you are messing with it. Don’t you have elves that do all the work for you?”
Chris snorted. “Not exactly.” He returned his attention to the machine, his hand fiddling with a few wires. “I know this will shock you, but if a machine goes down, I’m the one who has to fix it.” At my surprise, he added, “I have a master’s degree in mechanical engineering. Elves believe toys should be made with love and a little bit of elf magic. They don’t go to college.”
“You went to college?”
“University of Phoenix,” he confirmed.
I blinked in disbelief. “You lived in Phoenix?” A bark of laughter bubbled up from my throat. “But it’s so hot there.”
“You think I don’t like warm weather?” He shook his head in amusement. “After suffering through winters here, I always make sure I vacation somewhere hot. I intend to spend this summer in Mexico, lying on the beach until I’m good and burnt.”
“Santa with a tan,” I giggled, thinking how ridiculous that sounded. My laughter died in my throat though as I began picturing him in a pair of loose-fitting swimming trunks, ocean water glistening on his bare chest.
Chris finally looked up from the button machine. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I squeaked. “Just fine.” I began inching out of the room. I did not want him to know just how appealing the mental image of him splashing around in the surf was to me. “I should really let you get back to fixing that. I’ve been told buttons are very important.”
“They are,” Chris admitted with a crooked grin. “You’re learning.” He hit the power button, and the machine whirred to life. His smile widened at this victory, his dimples showing more prominently, before his gaze returned to me. “By the way, Mrs. Claus would never be caught dead in an outfit like that,” he teased, motioning with the wrench toward my shorts and snow boots.
When I stuck my tongue out at him, he laughed and asked, “I’ll see you at dinner?”
I nodded. “Dinner.”
* * *
The next morning, I woke to Emma’s small body hopping up onto my bed and looking down at me expectantly. “Again?” she asked with a pleased grin.
I closed my eyes and groaned as visions of the night before flashed in front of my eyes.
Dinner had started out like any normal dinner might. Chris and I had eaten in easy silence. Somehow during the course of the meal, we ended up on the table, kissing and groping like a couple of teenagers. We’d wound up in my bed. Again.
What was it about Chris Kringle that I just couldn’t resist? My mind wandered to a certain talent he had between the sheets, and I flinched. Oh yeah. That was one of the many things I couldn’t seem to say no to. “Again,” I confirmed for Emma. Opening my eyes, I looked beseechingly at the little elf. “I’m in trouble.”
“What did you break this time?” she asked worriedly.
“I didn’t break anything,” I said with an insulted look. “How did I get the reputation for being the girl who breaks thing?”
“By breaking the button machine,” Emma offered.
“I didn’t break anything,” I cried in my defense. “That was one time, and it wasn’t my fault. That army man tripped me.” Realizing that the button machine was the least of my worries, I let out a little sigh. “I’m in trouble because…” I trailed off and bit my lip. I wasn’t sure I could even admit it out loud.
“Because?” Emma prodded.
She looked so angelic with her halo of blonde curls and pointed ears that I relented. “I’m in love with Santa Claus!” The cheer she gave at my news had me laughing despite my efforts to stay gloomy. “There’s nothing to get all excited about,” I warned her, whacking her playfully with my pillow. “He doesn’t like me like that, and even if he did, I didn’t say I wanted to marry the guy. I just…”
Hugging my pillow to my chest, I gave her an accusing look. “Why didn’t you tell me how charming he was? Or how smart? You let me go on believing he was this monster who made elves do all the work for him while he sat back and ate cookies.”
“Would you have believed me if I told you otherwise?” Emma asked.
“Well…”
“Of course you wouldn’t have! You were so set on thinking the worst about him.” She sat cross-legged in front of me, her large eyes expressive. “All of the elves adore Chris. He brings a joy to this place that is indescribable.”
“I’m starting to see that,” I admitted softly, knowing all those elves couldn’t love him the way they did if Chris was a bad guy. Twirling a lock of my dark hair around a finger, I let out a little sigh. “This whole Mrs. Claus thing isn’t fair. It’s just too much pressure. Why can’t I just date the man like a normal couple would do? What’s wrong with dinner and a movie?”
“You know things can’t be that simple for Chris,” Emma said softly. She reached a hand out to gently pat my arm. “His life is complicated, and any woman willing to love him needs to be able to handle that.”
I nodded slowly. “I know. I’m just…not sure if I can.”
Climbing to her knees, Emma covered one of my hands with hers. “Chris needs you.” She took a deep breath and said in a solemn voice, “Santa needs you. The entire Christmas spirit needs you.”
Her tiny hand wrapped tightly around mine. “He’s been closing himself off. He draws further and further into himself. Sure, he still smiles and goes about his business, but he isn’t happy alone. Chris needs a soul mate, someone he can share his life with. Only he’s too stubborn to admit that.”
A tear welled in the corner of the elf’s eye. “Save Santa,” she begged. “Save him from himself. Don’t let him be lonely. He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve that.”
Maybe it was her moving words or maybe it was the tear that trailed down her child-sized cheek, but I found myself nodding. “Okay.” I nodded again. “I’ll save him.”
Chapter Five
I’d spent the past two and a half weeks trying to get Chris Kringle to fall in love with me. I’d quickly learned that sharing a bed with a man did not mean love. He seemed to care about me, that much I knew by the way he whispered in my ear at night or by the tender kisses he showered me with when in the throes of passion. He cared, but he wasn’t quite to love yet…a bothersome thing since it was now Christmas Eve.
We’d found ourselves in a pattern. Every morning we woke up in his bed or mine. He would give me a tender kiss, then be on his way. He would go about his business. I would go about mine, which more or less came down to sightseeing.
The two of us always met for lunch. The conversation was sociable and relaxed, but it was never anything more. There was no hint that he might like to pursue a real relationship with me.
Every day after lunch, we went our separate ways until dinner. At dinner, we would share an enjoyable meal. Then Chris would usually take me to see some new, beautiful piece of his life that had yet to be unveiled. We visited the family library where he playfully sat me on his lap as Santa would a child and read me an old Christmas tale. That evening had ended with us making love on the rug in front of his fireplace. Another night, he took me outside to show me the hundred foot Christmas tree the elves decorated with bright, sparkly lights each year. That evening, he just held me in his arms while we stared up at the remarkably illuminated tree.
Every day he showed me something new, showed me things that seemed more intimate than the last. Only he never gave any indication that he wanted me to stay past the holiday season. While he seemed to be merely enjoying my company, I was falling more in love with Chris than I cared to admit.
He wasn’t at all what I’d first pegged him as. Chris Kringle was an intelligent, caring man. He treated his elves with respect and dignity. He never spoke down to them as if they were inferior. He carried his own weight in the workshop, and he never lost his temper when things didn’t go as planned. He was a good man.
I was smitten with him, and now I would have to go home, leaving my heart at
the North Pole. “I don’t know what to do, Emma,” I whined to the elf who was sitting on the edge of my bed with concern in her big blue eyes. “He’s just going to let me walk away after tomorrow.”
Pacing the floor, I nervously chewed on a fingernail. Tonight was it. He would deliver his toys, and then the magical bond between us would disappear. Within a few days, we’d go our separate ways, and that would be it. I’d never been after the marriage proposal Emma desperately wished for, but I did want him to want me to stay or even to ask if he could visit me in Detroit on his way down to Mexico. I wanted something.
These past few weeks had been more than just amazing sex. They’d been…magical. We’d shared a connection. All I had to do to confirm that was close my eyes and remember his voice as he whispered to me in the dark last night about the origins of the first Santa Claus. This wasn’t just a fling!
Emma never got to respond to my desperation because the door of my room burst open, and Bernie rushed in. His face was flushed, and he was waving his hands in the air while his mouth gaped open like a fish.
Emma hopped off the bed and was at his side in an instant. “Bernie, what’s wrong?” She put a hand to his forearm and peered up at him with concern. “What’s happened?”
“The…” He broke off, shook his head, and gasped for air.
I was so stunned to hear the deep, melodious sound of his voice. In all the weeks I’d been here, I’d never once heard Bernie speak. The most I’d ever seen from him was the hint of a smile once when Emma was bustling about making sure the packaging of toys was on schedule. For Bernie to be talking, there had to be something seriously wrong.
“One of the reindeer…”
He didn’t need to say anything more. I might be new to Christmas town, but even I understood that if something happened with one of the reindeer on Christmas Eve, it could throw a wrench into the whole operation. “Show me,” I demanded.
Saving Santa (Romance on the Go) Page 3