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“Wait, do you actually need a job?” I growl, unable to keep my voice civil. It’s like the beast inside is trying to erupt out of me, forcing me to grab her and maul right now.
Naughty or nice, I don’t give a damn. I’ll make her mine either way.
“I wouldn’t turn down work.”
A note of shame pricks at her. I read it, clear and sharp. She must really need the money.
“Christmas elf,” I tell her. “I’ll clear it with Rex for you to get a day’s pay. How does that sound?”
She skips around the picket fence, causing her breasts to bounce alluringly. It takes everything I possess not to charge across and bend her over, spank that round ass and grind the heel of my hand between her legs, pushing against her sex through her pants.
Instead, I swallow, forcing down the desire.
“Are you serious?” She wrings her hands together. “Today?”
“Today,” I tell her. “Wait here.”
I stand, hoping she doesn’t look down and see how stiff she’s made me before I have a chance to rearrange myself. Fire pulses through me as I turn away from Santa’s Wonderland, striding toward the food court and the manager’s office.
And I know, without a single glint of doubt, I’ve found the best Christmas gift I ever could’ve asked for.
Chapter Two
Natalie
My cheeks burn red hot as I walk out onto Santa’s Wonderland in my elf costume, silky green and way tighter than anything I’d normally wear. I feel like I’ve been stuffed into it like a sausage and I’m about to explode out of it at any second, but apparently, it was the biggest one they had.
As the lights glare down at me, making my blush even hotter and deeper, Santa watches me. He sits in his chair, his fist clenched, causing confusing feelings to flutter inside my stomach.
I never thought I’d want Santa, never thought my whole body would beat and pulse with desire at the sight of Santa. And yet I can’t deny that’s exactly what’s happening as my eyes roam over him.
He’s tall and strong. Even in the costume, I can see the muscles in his arms, his broad shoulders, his sturdy body.
But mostly it’s his eyes, ice-blue, the way they stare from above the fake beard like he’s mentally tearing this silly outfit away and getting ready to make it a Christmas to remember.
“So what do I do?” I ask, looking around the mall.
Maybe it’s because it’s easier to look around the mall than directly at Santa, or maybe it’s because I keep expecting to see him again.
But then I wonder if I’m getting ahead of myself… letting my thoughts about the past get the better of me.
No.
I need to focus on Santa, on this job. I really do need the money.
No more daydreaming.
“And what’s your actual name?” I murmur. “I can’t keep calling you Santa.”
“My name is Nick.” His voice is gruff, making me shiver when I imagine how warm his breath would feel over my skin. “And yours?”
“Nick?”
“Yes.” The beard shifts as his lips twitch into a smirk. “I take it you’ve got something to say about that.”
“It’s just… Nick? As in Saint Nick?”
There’s that twitching lip again, his ice-blue eyes twinkling. “As in the name I was given when I was born, a name which I just so happen to share with Santa. Yes. Now be a good girl and tell me your name.”
“Natalie.”
My lips are suddenly dry, my mind spiraling at the phrase good girl into all the other ways I could be a good girl for him.
“Natalie the Christmas elf.”
He smirks widely now, and my silly thoughts drop. Is he teasing me?
“Exactly.” I force out a giggle, turning away. “That’s always been my dream in life. And now I can make it come true.”
Chuckling, he nods. “Yeah, me too. Ever since I was a little kid I wanted to work in a mall pretending to be happy. What a coincidence.”
“Jeez, Grinch.” I glance over at him, at the cold fire in his eyes. “Way to kill my Christmas spirit.”
“Sorry.”
“Why don’t I believe that apology?”
“Maybe because I didn’t mean it.”
I laugh again. “Are you always so grumpy, Saint Nick?”
“Are you always so chirpy, Elf Natalie?”
“I try to be.” A quiver of seriousness enters my voice. “The best that I can, yeah. I try not to let myself get too upset, or take things too seriously. I find things never end well that way…”
I trail off, realizing I’m sharing way too much. Santa wants my Christmas list, not my life story.
“Anyway, what do I do?”
He shrugs, laughing harshly. It’s like the laughter comes from some dead place deep inside of him. The thought strikes me as unfairly sad with all the bright lights glittering around us, the sparkling tree behind him, and the glow coming in through the domed ceiling.
