I shouldn’t have stared.
I mean—Ialreadyknew what everything looked like… whathelooked like…howhefelt… but it didn’t matter.
Watching the way his soft fur trailed down his abs took my breath away every damn time, so that phenomenon wasn’t new. But then he reached into the back of the SUV, shifting his body so his chest was mere inches away from my face. Then his scent of salt, leather, and cedarwood wafted over me.
I nearly squealed as I took it in. My breathing intensified, and an aching heat drenched my pussy at the thought of that chest against mine, my legs wrapped around his waist, my fingers gripping tight around that harness—holding on for dear life while he plunged inside of me, fucking me against the seat… no… the wall… or maybe in the back of the sleigh while the elves tried to shield the reindeer’s eyes.
He fell back into his seat with a pair of leather boots, a red coat withwhite fur trim, red velvet pants, and a Santa hat with a big poofy ball clutched tightly in his grip.
“Do you see what they make me do?”
His words jolted me from the filthy thoughts. I shook my head, coughed a little, and slammed my eyes shut for a moment.
“I mean…” I carefully glanced back at him, hoping the heat from my cheeks wasn’t obvious. “You could say no. It’s just a thought.”
“—and miss out on making all the boys in town nervous?” He opened his door, stepped out, slipped his red pants on, and stuffed one foot into his boot followed by the second. “Max, please,” he said, lacing up his boot. “Making them nervous is pretty much in my job description.”
In one swift motion, he swung the coat around his back, slipped his hands into the sleeves, then donned a pair of big black leather gloves.
“You’re worried about making the boys nervous? I’d be more afraid of the line of their horny women waiting to sit on your lap and ask Santa for favors.”
He smirked, tied on a ridiculously realistic Santa beard, and cocked his head, signaling me to follow him. “Those horny women? They give the biggest tips when they’re on my lap. Even bigger if I’m a little…” He lowered his voice. “Bricked.”
“Jesus—”
He chuckled. “Like I said… the things I do for this town.”
With every step, the metal rings jangled against his skin, reminding me there was a fucking harness strapped on that body—instead of me. I was a goner—and he utilized that fact to make me weak at the knees and unable to form coherent sentences with his cocky smirks, random muscle flexing, and nonchalant penile adjustments directed my way.
Nettles was already waiting near the edge of the display, hands in his coat pockets, toothpick working steadily in the corner of his mouth. He pulled Graham aside, whispered something into his ear, then patted him on the back and returned to his car. Judging by the look on Graham’s face, it wasn’t good news.
“Hey,” I said, stepping in close as Graham sat down in the red velvet throne. “You alright?”
The smirk was gone. “Yeah, they found anotherbody.”
“Like me?” I swallowed.
He nodded and smoothed the pants over his thighs.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m going to need you to move. You’re in the shot,” said the photographer.
“Give me twenty minutes, and we’ll be out of here. Make sure you grab some pix for Derek. I know he’s sad he missed this.” Graham plastered on that classic sexy smirk, and my knees went weak again.
I stood to the side, watching as they directed him—posing him like the prop the town craved.
The shoot started as one would expect, just a regular holiday-themed session to attract the townspeople to the upcoming jamboree—Graham behaved as a Santa would, throwing gifts in the air, maybe a sexy shot or two with the busty elves—nothing too crazy.
But then, about halfway through, Graham took off his coat, then his hat… and by the end, he was wearing nothing but leather straps and a set of antlers and was eating carrots with the reindeer. His leather harness looked oddly similar to Rudolph’s—minus the pouch for his… reindeer bits. But I didn’t think anything of it until he got on all fours and an elf hooked him to the sleigh.
Oh… My… God…
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together, attempting to stifle what I thought may have been a laugh, but it could have actually been part moan. That harness looked too damn good on him, and the ridiculousness of this photoshoot got the best of me.
So, I did what any fully invested friend/lover would do. I pulled my phone out and snapped a few pics and texted them to our best friends. Now, of course, I couldn’tactuallyblackmail him… or rathershouldn’t, but a little insurance never hurt anyone.
Besides, what if these photos never made it to a calendar, or what if they were somehow destroyed? It was always a good idea to have some backup views in case they were needed for professional reenactment purposes…of course.
A devious little cackle escaped me as I filled my phone with as many shots as possible, sending a few of the best to Katie and Derek in our group chat.
