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CHAPTER3
Jenny
Ididn't sleep well last night. Eyes like napalm pools, wavy hair that I itch to run my fingers through, and a sexy dark brown beard invade my dreams.
Nick.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. My cheeks feel all hot, and there's a pulsing between my legs that won't go away. I keep clenching my legs together to try to ease the ache, but it won't stop.
When I wake up from yet another tormented dream of the man who's way too sexy to be playing a Santa Claus, my pussy feels wet and swollen. I let out a frustrated huff and let my hand trail down to the throbbing flesh between my legs.
I know women masturbate, but I've never been able to get myself off. It's embarrassing at my age, but I've never had an orgasm. I don't really know how to do it. I know you're supposed to pet your clit, and I've tried before, but I've just never been able to achieve that monumental rush of release that women talk about.
It's the same now. It feels good when I find that little bundle of nerves and press and rub on it, and I feel myself getting wetter, especially when I think about Nick. I feel a pressure building up inside of me, but I can't seem to get it to pop. It just builds and builds and then it recedes.
I let out a frustrated groan and fling my arm over my eyes before I finally give up and get up to take a shower.
It's still early, but I go ahead and get ready for the day ahead, taking even more care with my appearance than usual.
I'm never to anything early, but I'm actually on time for my "job" that day.
My breath hitches in my throat when I walk into the mall and am hit with all his big gloriousness all over again.
He's already suited up in the red Santa pants, though he's only wearing a white shirt and not the coat yet. His wavy brown hair is stylishly disheveled, and his beard is just oh my god. He looks like such a man.
My stomach falls when I approach him and he turns those blue eyes to me, sweeping me quickly in his gaze before he turns away from me, obviously dismissing me.
My cheeks burn as I feel thoroughly rejected.
And that feeling only makes me want to lash out in anger.
"Nicholas," I greet him with a snooty tone to my voice. I almost wince. God, I sound like my mother.
"Jennifer," he nods back at me formally before he turns away from me again.
I'm suddenly seething. "It's Jenny," I remind him from behind clenched teeth.
He doesn’t say anything. He ignores me completely, and I'm baffled. I'm not used to being ignored, and I don't know what's changed. I saw the way he was looking at me yesterday. I know I didn't imagine the appreciation in his eyes or the way he flirted with me.
So, what's different today?
Just then Dave shows up to put us out of our misery and break the awkward silence that's settled between us. If our "boss" notices the thick tension between us, he doesn't comment on it. He just reminds us to be ready to go in five, and then he's off.
I watch Nick out of the corner of my eyes as he shrugs on the Santa coat and then fits the fake white beard and hat onto his head.
Apparently, I must turn toward him and am watching him full on because when he looks up, our eyes meet.
I see his eyes flare with heat. He stares at me, his blues shining brightly, and my breath hitches in my throat. The intensity in his gaze is like nothing I've ever seen before. I could bask in it forever.
But then he turns away from me again, and I feel bereft, like a cloud has just rolled over the sun.
Our booth opens, and the children—and swooning mothers—begin rolling in. I smile at the children and try not to glare at the tittering women.
Something tells me today isn't going to be as fun as yesterday was.
* * *
Nick
