Dirty Claus

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Dirty Claus Page 1

by M. K. Moore




  Dirty Claus

  M.K. Moore

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other books by MK Moore

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Dirty Claus (Forever Safe Christmas II, Book 25) By M.K. Moore

  © M.K. Moore 2020 Flirty Filth Publishing.

  All Rights Reserved

  By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.

  Cover created by KL Fast © 2020

  Created with Vellum

  Dedicated to those who read holiday books year round. This one’s for you!

  Blurb

  Santa aka Nick needs his mate but doesn't know where to begin to look for her.

  Aenwyn thinks she's being punished but really it's for the best.

  When these two fated mates get together all bets are off. There are no rules.

  Dirty Claus is gonna get his maiden.

  This is the last book in the Forever Safe Christmas II series.

  Songs that inspired Dirty Claus

  “Dirrty” by Christina Aguilera ft. Redman

  "God, Your Mama, and Me" by Florida Georgia Line ft. Backstreet Boys

  Chapter 1

  Nick

  December 15th, 2020

  I can’t believe the month is half over already. It feels like just yesterday was New Year’s Eve, but I guess time flies when you’re busy as hell. People need Christmas more than ever this year.

  “Hello?” I ask as I answer my ringing desk phone. With all the magic floating around this place you’d think a cell phone would work in here, but the workshop is a top-secret facility. No mobile devices at all.

  “Son?” I hear my mother’s voice for the first time in a week.

  “Ma?” She sounds like she’s a tunnel.

  “Your father and I will be home on the twenty-sixth. Your grandparents and the greats are expected on the twenty-ninth.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Frostine will be home tomorrow. She’s going to help Finaelah and Ceallenda around the castle, you know getting things ready.”

  “Of course. I look forward to it. Where are you?”

  “Key West. About to go on a glass-bottom boat tour. It’s windy on the dock.”

  “Sounds fun. I’ll let you go then.” They love going on little adventures together, so I am not surprised about this.

  “Goodbye, darling. We love you, see you soon,” she says

  “Love you too,” I reply before hanging up.

  My parents were the first generation of Clauses that had more than one child and the first to have a daughter. Frosty is fourteen years younger than me and travels the world under the guise of being a fashion photographer, looking for her mate. She still hasn’t found what she’s looking for.

  “Naughty. Naughty. Nice. Naughty. Nice. Nice. Nice. Naughty,” I say out loud as I check names off of my list. I finally made it through the Z’s for the second time. Every year I take January off, but I start the damn list in February. It takes me about eleven months to get through the list. Every year it gets smaller and smaller as children stop believing in me, their names disappear. Occasionally, I’ll get a teenager still believing but the list magically cuts off at fifteen so I never know if a true believer is still out there until I meet them.

  I have been “Active Santa” for three years now. My parents, Nick F. and Alice, have retired to Florida. Through my father’s blood magic, my human mother’s life span has been altered to match his and they are living the high life on the beach while I freeze my ass off at home. At ninety-seven, I thought I had at least a few more years before this became my whole life. I don’t exactly resent it, but being who I am and doing what I do it’s impossible to meet a woman.

  Honestly, that’s the worst thing about being Santa Claus is having to be jolly all the time. Being "on" is hard as hell when you're lonely. I don't know where the hell I'm expected to meet my Mrs. Claus, only that I'm expected to. What I do know is that my fated mate isn't here at the North Pole but I also don't know where she is. Settling down and having children is all I have thought about for years now. At least the last twenty or so, but I had other things to occupy my mind. Sitting in the hot seat really changed my perspective.

  "You should really take your own advice, boss," Jensynn, my right-hand man, best friend, and head elf says jarring me from my thoughts. I didn’t realize he’d come into my office.

  "And what advice would that be?" I ask wryly.

  "Get out there and go find her."

  “And where should I go?”

  “Throw a dart at a map or something,” he says, shrugging as he leaves my office. He recently returned from a much-needed vacation in Indiana where his fated mate lived. I imagine it’s hard to be immortal without the love of a good woman, but my

  Throw a dart? How the hell can I throw a dart to determine my fate like that? Why can I help others but not myself? It used to bother me a lot, but given that I can’t change anything it doesn’t do anything to stress about something like that.

  “Aelrie,” I call for my assistant. She’s the oldest elf at the workshop. At four hundred and sixty-two, she doesn’t look a day over twenty. Her mate, Marikoth, is only slightly younger than her, at four hundred fifty-six. They have been mated for over three hundred years. I want that. I need that. My great times six grandpa, Nick A, is still kicking it down in Argentina with my human Gma, so I know that it’s technically possible, I just need to find her.

  “Yes, boss?” she asks, coming in through the open door.

  “Here is the rest of the list. Get this to processing,” I tell her. She takes the offered papers from my hand and pauses.

  “Milk?” she asks like a traditional assistant might ask if I want coffee.

  “Always,” I say. So the storytellers got it right, I love milk, sue me.

  “Coming right up. If I may say so, you are looking tired. You should rest up for the big day.”

  “Gee thanks,” I say sourly.

  “I am sorry if I overstepped, sir, I felt that it needed to be said.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Aelrie. You're not the first person to say that to me today.”

  “Again, I am sorry. I’ll get these over to processing right away and have Aenwyn bring in your milk. Will there be anything else right now?”

  “That will be all. Thank you. Wait who is Aenwyn?” I ask, the name both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. My tongue tingled when I said it.

  “New maiden. Arrived from Reykjavík two weeks ago.”
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  “Very well,” I reply, pushing the new maiden from my mind. She’s got to be the worst assistant in the world if she’s been here for two weeks and I’ve yet to meet her.

  I spend the rest of the day dealing with little stuff as it crosses my desk. Then I stare at the map, nothing jumping out at me like it did Jensynn. I pretty much knew things wouldn’t be that easy for me, but I had to try. Every so often I stare at the map and again, nothing.

  At the end of the day, I throw the damn dart.

  Guess where it fucking lands? Here. The North damn pole. Not for the first time, I wonder if I am going to be alone forever.

  Fuck this shit.

  Chapter 2

  Aenwyn

  “Master Claus will take his milk now,” Aelrie says startling me after coming into her own damn office. The same small office where I’ve set up camp until my desk is located. It was taken from my nice office the second day I was here. Hazing is alive and well up here. Mentally, I shake my head. One of the very first things I was told was how the master takes his milk. Like that’s even important or what I’m here for. They found a niche in this winter wonderland. I haven’t even met the man yet but I can tell you anything you want to know about him. Such as his idea of a fun Friday night consists of a fire and a puzzle. He does sudoku for fun and loves children, obviously.

  “Of course,” I reply, jumping up from my chair. I have no idea what to call her. As my boss, it should be Aelrie but as an unmarried maiden it’s not respectful to call her anything other than “ma’am” which she hates, so I usually don’t call her anything.

  I get up and head to the break room. The fresh ice-cold milk is ready to be poured into his preferred frozen beer mug that I pull from the freezer. I pour the milk and place it on the steel tray, to keep my hot hands off it. I have exactly three minutes to get it to his hands because he likes it cold, cold. Like negative fifteen degrees, Iceland kind of cold.

  I hope he’s not as intimidating as he seems. I don’t understand why I was transferred here from Iceland. There I was in receiving and I never, ever dealt with people. I’m forty years old and haven’t dealt with people in many, many years. The head office usually forgets about us, but for some reason, I got a transfer that I didn’t request. I thought I was being punished for some unknown offense. Instead of questioning it, I packed up my sad life there and started a sad life here. The tiny apartments could have been right next to each other instead of 5018 km a part.

  My parents had already moved here last year but I couldn’t live with them again. They are the best parents a girl could ask for, but I am my own person and they are in the empty nest stage of their lives. I can’t unhear something like that so I am not putting myself in a situation together. They have been mated for so long I am not sure they could be two separate beings anymore.

  Walking toward his office, my nerves start to get the better of me. I raise my to knock but before I can the door opens.

  He’s not looking at me, but I do manage to move out of his way thus saving the damn milk.

  “Aelrie!” he bellows, sending a shiver down my spine. He doesn’t look anything like I expected. His long, silvery white hair is pulled back from his face. His skin tight jeans look like they were made specifically for him and please, please can we talk about the ripped Foreigner concert tee he’s wearing? I have no doubt he was actually at the show in question Rock Cirkus II in Alberta, Canada. He looks every bit the king of the castle. We are still a few feet apart but I want to step closer to him.

  “Master?” I breathe. Why do I sound like a girl from an adult film? Get a hold of yourself, I mentally chastise myself. I do that a lot really. I should work on that.

  “You’re not Aelrie,” he says turning a megawatt smile on me. Oh no. Why is that working on me? This smile would start a war at any royal court in the world.

  “I am not.”

  “Are you the maiden?”

  “Ugh,” I groan. “I suppose I am. Your afternoon milk.”

  “Aenwyn, right?”

  “Aye,” I say, holding the tray out to him.

  He takes the glass and downs it quickly. I watch as his throat works as he gulps it down. Damn. When he’s done, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after setting his glass back down on the counter. Why is that so fucking hot?

  “How do you like working on the pole?” he asks. I pause for a moment and then burst out laughing. He leans back a little, crosses his arms over his chest and chuckles. His chuckle goes all through me in a rather delicious way. He’s tall, looks about seven feet to my pixie size of 5’6. I have to crane my neck to look at his face. His Christmas green eyes are whimsical.

  “Come in. Let’s chat,” he says standing aside to let me in.

  “I really should get back to work,” I say, not really thinking that it would matter. He’s the boss and what he says goes. I shiver. Why does even the thought of doing whatever he says make me feel like this. I may have never experienced it first hand before, but I know what desire should feel like and this is it.

  As I walk past him, I breathe in and I know it hits me as to why I am responding to him so strongly. I hear him suck in his own breath sharply, as I walk past him. I can feel his exhale on my neck. I feel like everything is moving in slow motion.

  He is my mate.

  The Santa Claus with his climbable as fuck body and the green eyes to die for is my mate.

  I thought I’d be a maiden forever, but this changes everything. Forty years and I hadn’t found him yet. Guess I was on the wrong continent, but now the doubts are setting in. I hate that I doubt myself so much.

  What if he doesn’t want me as I want him? He can still decide he doesn’t want me even though I can feel the magic beginning to course through my veins.

  He’s also a powerful holder of ancient magic, surely he’s above the will of the universe. If he is, what happens to me?

  Chapter 3

  Nick

  It’s her. She’s mine. My inner voice chants that as I try to make small talk with the most beautiful maiden I’ve ever seen. Her long dark hair is slightly curled at the ends and looks like silk. Her eyes are golden and mesmerizing. Her curves are mouthwatering. Magic is sizzling all over the room. As she brushes past me, I grab her arm and turn her to face me. Where my fingers are wrapped around her arm, magic pools. It’s palpable. It’s like there is a direct line of fire between us. She drops the tray at our feet, but I kick it out of the way and pull her close to me. Her palms flatten on my pecs and she lets out a little gasp that makes my dick sit up and take even more notice of her. It’s straining to get out of my pants and into her. My hand leaves her arm and fists into her hair. Suddenly my lips are on hers and I am lost. Her body molds to mine. Logically, I know she was made for me but feeling it, seeing it, living it is an entirely different thing.

  Kicking the door closed behind me, locking it for the first time ever.

  “Master?” she asks, looking up at me through her dark lashes. I clasp both of her hands in mine.

  “You are her,” I say, beginning the words that will bind us together forever.

  “I am she,” she replies. “You are him.”

  “I am he,” I reply.

  “We are it,” we say in unison, completing the ritual. She is mine forever now. Nothing and no one can take her from me.

  Literally, nothing else needs to be said. She is my other half and we have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.

  “Master?” she asks again.

  “Call me Nick,” I reply.

  “Okay, Nick. What do we do now?”

  “Whatever we want, wife. Whatever we want,” I answer, my voice deep. She smirks at me. God’s blood, that smirk could start wars.

  Leaning down, I kiss her. She moans, opening to me. I take that opportunity to deepen the kiss, our tongues dueling for control. I win that fight. Her grey and green uniform is tight, too tight. I grip the top of the shirt and rip it down the middle, sending buttons flying in
all directions. She gasps and tries to cover her breasts. They are spilling out of a red bra with lace accents. I move her hands to her side.

  “Keep them there,” I demand. She obeys and my cock gets even harder. I remove her tiny skirt next and then she’s standing in front of me in a jaunty santa hat, a red lace bra and panty set. For the first time, I notice that she’s barefoot.

  “I forgot to put them back on when I was told to bring your milk,” she says sheepishly.

  “Fucking adorable,” I say as I reach behind her and open her

  bra. I pull the straps down her arms leaving goosebumps in my wake.

  “Nick,” she breathes. “I’ve never done this before.” I know that some elves try to find comfort while they wait for their mates, but one look at her and I knew that she wasn’t one of them. Just as I could have, I didn’t. One wife in my book means one pussy for the rest of my life. I couldn’t have been like this with anyone else.

  “Me either, wife. Me either.” It’s crazy fast, but this is how it was always meant to happen. She pulls her panties down her legs and steps out of them. I sweep everything off of the back edge of my desk and lift her onto my desk. Her tanned skin is soft and glowing a bit.

  “This is quite unfair,” she says crossing her arms over her chest, making her breasts look even bigger. My mouth is actually watering right now. I kick off my big black boots and strip faster than anyone ever has. Her mouth drops open. “What are you going to do with that massive thing?” she asks, gesturing toward my rock hard cock. I grip it and pump it up and down a few times.

 

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