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He tightened his grip on my hip and mumbled, “When I stare at you, I get hard. And since I have children sitting on my lap, I can’t allow that to happen.”
I playfully wiggled my bottom on his solid thigh and let my leg brush over the arousal pressed against his Santa trousers. He wasn’t lying about the hard on. “What do you plan to do about that?”
He looked around the room like searching for an exit, then rubbed his hand against the crotch of his pants as he stared at me with hooded eyes.
“Obviously, Santa will need a bathroom break. Want to join him?”
“Don’t I get to tell you my wish first, Santa?”
He stilled as I wiggled my behind.
“Stop fucking doing that, or I will lose it.” Despite the warning, a slow smile built on his face. “What is it that Santa can do for you this Christmas, Ms. Young?”
I barely said anything, yet I was out of breath. But he’d had his appetizer in the sauna and I’d had mine in the attic. It was time to plan the main course. I hesitated before leaning in. I covered the side of our faces, in case someone could read lips, and whispered, “I’d like to be your personal gift this week.”
His low chuckle set off vibrations along my skin and his hot breath fanned over my neck as his grip tightened over my hip. “And what does that entail, Ms. Young? Because I don’t want, nor do I need, a hooker.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“All right. Explain. What does this personal gift entail?”
Thankfully, his normally booming voice was low enough that only I could hear. I leaned closer again, this time brushing my lips over his earlobe. “I want you to unwrap me slowly.”
A grunt rumbled through his chest, and his hand slid up my sweater to cup my breast. I don't know how he did it out of sight, but he did. And when he pinched my nipple, I nearly jumped off his lap. “Consider it done, Ms. Young.”
He released me from his hold, and I stood up, wobbling, of course, because who the fuck pinches your nipple in the middle of a family event? His gaze burned deep into my back as I walked away. I glanced over my shoulder and bit my lip as James covered his crotch with an enormous gift.
“Alright, everyone! It’s almost time for Santa to leave. Let's sing another carol!”
James clapped his hands to rally the crowd and started off with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I joined the others in song, my mind abuzz with thoughts of what had just transpired and everything I wanted to transpire, and before I knew it, I lost track of him.
The magical atmosphere that seemed to draw me closer to a man whom I’d only considered a fling was contagious. Maybe it was time to accept he could be more than a fling?
A couple of drinks later, plus a personal lap dance with Santa, and my panties were hyped up like Christmas lights.
“It’s time for Monopoly and Twister!” someone announced when we’d finished singing.
Axel stopped by with a drink and clinked his glass against mine. “Merry Christmas, Laura.”
“Merry Christmas, Axel.” I sipped. “How’s Trevor doing?”
“He’s bragging to his grandparents about skiing faster than his father.”
I chuckled softly, my laughter barely audible but crackling with warmth. It must have been the eggnog.
“There’s little fear when you’re young.” I said.
“Thank you for your help on the hills. I got an unexpected call, and the harness snapped—”
“Don’t mention it. He probably gave his mom a fright when he told her what happened.”
“Chloe’s not around anymore. She passed away a few years ago.”
I clasped my arms around my middle. “Oh, that was insensitive of me. I just assumed since twenty percent of couples are single-parent households…”
“No harm done.”
“Still, I’m sorry.”
