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Susie
I rubmy face when I hear someone approaching. I hope Marsha didn’t come outside to check on me. I don’t really want anyone to see me like this.
I straighten, unfolding my knees from where they’re pressed against my chest. The stone fountain is cold beneath my body, and I didn’t even think to grab a jacket. But I grit my teeth against the chill, refusing to show how uncomfortable I am.
In the soft glow of the Christmas lights, I recognize Rogue approaching me. He’s still dressed in his Santa costume, but even if he weren’t, I’d know him. I’d know it from the way he stalks across the courtyard, lithe on his feet like a powerful lion.
He shoves something at me, and instinctively I reach out to take the thing. I wrap my hands around what I first think is a ball but quickly realize is his motorcycle helmet.
“You’re coming with me,” he grunts.
I think it’s the first time he’s ever spoken to me. I like the way his voice is all rumbly when he talks and the way he scowls at me with his eyebrows drawn down. I blink up at him, certain I’ve misheard him.
He finally growls, “Fuck it.”
Then without warning, he bends over so he can sling me over his shoulder. The blood rushes to my face and the world grows dim for twenty seconds.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I finally manage to squeak out as I stare at the prints he’s leaving in the snow. His feet are so big. Is he that big everywhere? The thought makes my panties damp and sends a wave of longing through me. I’ll never know for sure, but a girl can dream.
“Kidnapping you,” he answers casually, like this is a perfectly rational explanation for carrying me away from the party. I mean, we’re both off-duty. Marsha even said as much when she invited us to mingle with the guests.
This has to be a dream. That’s what this is. I’m still at home, asleep on my couch after coming home from work to find the angel he left behind. It’s clutched tightly in my hand, and Lucky is purring nearby.
Rogue sets me on my feet again in the parking lot. The world is gray for a few seconds before it rights itself again, returning to full color. I look around the well-lit parking lot that’s covered in a fine sheen of ice. My breath comes out in a little puff of air. I mentally congratulate my subconscious on making this one feel so real.
He plops the helmet on my head, pausing to adjust the straps. His fingers graze underneath my chin and warmth floods my body. I shiver at the unexpected contact. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s to prevent head injuries, but don’t worry. I won’t crash. Not with you on board,” he promises solemnly. He shrugs out of his red Santa coat and that’s when I realize he was wearing his leather jacket underneath it, probably to add bulk to his costume. He wraps his leather jacket around me, pausing to zip it up as if I’m a toddler who doesn’t know how to dress herself.
“I like this dream,” I whisper as his scent and warmth surround me.
“It’s not a dream,” he says right before he ducks his head and presses his lips against mine in a searing kiss.
He’s possessive and dominant, angling my head just the way he wants so he can plunder my mouth. His tongue strokes along mine, and I melt into the kiss, moaning back into his mouth. He swallows my noises, absorbs them with his own body.
When he finally parts from me, he leans his forehead against mine. The fluffy part of his Santa hat tickles my face. “Fuck, you taste like Christmas morning.”
5
SUSIE
I giggleat the way his hat is tickling my face. I don’t care if it’s a dream or if the eggnog was spiked. All I know is that I want these stolen moments with the gruff mountain man. “I don’t think Santa is supposed to swear.”
His fingers dig into my hips. “That’s because Santa never had an elf that looks like you.”
My face heats at his words. I think Rogue is attracted to me. After months of planning for him to talk to me, he’s actually here with me. He’s staring into my eyes and saying nice things and kidnapping me.
As if he just remembered that he’s supposed to be kidnapping me, Rogue gives me a wicked grin. “It’s time to get you back to the North Pole, my naughty little elf.”
He takes his Santa hat and tucks it into his saddlebag while shrugging back into the red coat. It looks awfully thin. “Hold on tight. Remember to lean when I lean.”
Then without waiting to see what I’m going to do, he throws one of his long legs across the motorcycle and straddles it. His thighs look so strong underneath that layer of denim that my mouth waters and my stomach flips.
I push his long sleeves back from covering my hands and try to mimic his movements. I’m not nearly as graceful, and it takes me three tries before I’m on the motorcycle.
“Are you good?” He turns his head, his breath small puffs of white in the cold night air.
