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It's both killing me and sustaining me to be in her presence. I can't stop myself from looking at her out of the corner of my eye, drinking in her essence, everything that is her. Yet, I'm trying my best not to look at her directly or have much contact with her. She's a rich girl, and I'm a felon, so there's no use in encouraging anything between us. Once she finds out what I really am, she'll run the other way so fast. And I couldn't blame her. No matter that I really am innocent of the crime I was charged with. I accepted the guilty verdict, and I did the time. I'm branded what I am.
There's no changing any of that.
But fucking hell does she look amazing. Every time she comes over to me, leading a child to me by the hand, I get a whiff of her scent. She smells warm and inviting like cinnamon and applies.
She smells fucking delectable, good enough to eat. And it's all I can do to keep from throwing her over my shoulder caveman style and marching her straight back to my apartment where I can spread her out and feast on her the way I want to. I want her legs on either side of my head while I'm nose deep in her pussy.
Fuck me.
I force those thoughts away, very aware of where we are and the children who've come to see Santa. I can't ruin their dreams with my frustrated attitude.
And fuck am I frustrated. I haven't been with a woman since before I went to prison. My hand has always been good enough for me. I can't remember the last time my body was teeming for a certain female.
Actually, yes, I can.
Never.
I've never needed a woman as badly as I need Jenny.
I don't know how I get through the day, but somehow I do. Again, there's a hoard of disappointed children and mothers who didn’t get a chance for their picture with Santa, so I'm halfway optimistic that our gig will be extended another day.
Will Jenny do it again? It's torture thinking of spending another day in such close proximity to her, but it's also torture thinking of never seeing her again.
"I said 'no,' you creeps," Jenny's irritated voice floats over to me, and I swiftly turn to her once I register what she said.
The scene before me makes my vision go red. There are two young guys standing in front of her, lasciviously eyeing her in her little elf costume. "Aw, come on, baby. We've got a couple of toys you can play with," one says while elbowing his friend in the ribs.
The other one reaches out a hand to touch her, and that's when I surge forward like a bull after a red flag, grabbing his hand harshly and stopping its travel midway before he can touch her.
"Ow, what the fuck, Santa?" the little jerk whines up at me.
"Don’t fucking touch her," my voice is deadly calm, but the little pricks must hear the clear warning in it because their eyes go wide before they wisely take a step back, holding up their hands. "Hey, we were just having some fun, man."
The insinuation that these little two idiots think it's fun to accost women only angers me again, and I take another step toward them, fulling intending to pummel them into the ground, but then I feel a tiny hand on my arm.
I still. It's the first time she's touched me, and even though we have layers of clothing between us, I feel that touch on my skin like a brand. Every cell in my body suddenly surges to life, and my blood begins pumping rapidly throughout my veins.
That touch detonates something inside me.
"Come on," I order her, my voice coming out more gruffly than I intend it to as I close my hand around hers, the sensation of her skin meeting mine through our palms sending a jolt through me. I begin leading her to Dave's office.
She hurries to keep up with me as I pull her along. "Nick, what the fuck?" she whispers to me as I continue to pull her to my destination.
"Don't swear," I admonish her. She's too perfect to be swearing. She's an angel, and she shouldn't be tainted by anything—even foul language.
I'm relieved to find Dave's office empty, though it wouldn’t have really mattered if it hadn't been. I'd have ordered the fucker out anyway, but this saves me time from pissing the old man off.
I yank Jenny inside and slam the door behind her, swiftly turning the lock to it.
"Nick, what the—?"
I don't even give her time to swear again.
In less that a second, I have her pressed up against the door, my body flush against hers. Sweet Jesus, does her body mold perfectly into mine.
I yank the fucking Santa cap and beard from my head, and then my lips are crashing down onto hers.
I was wrong. She doesn’t taste like cherries. She tastes even better.
