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Twelve Quickies Of Christmas Book 10: Hot For Santa
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HOT FOR SANTA!
An Ellora's Cave Publication, DECEMBER 2003
Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
PO Box 787
Hudson, OH 44236-0787
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-694-1
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
HOT FOR SANTA © 2003 LACEY ALEXANDER
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited by Heather Osborn
Cover art by Darrell King.
Hot for Santa!
Lacey Alexander
DEDICATION
To my editor, Heather Osborn, who totally rocks!
“Would you like to sit on Santa’s lap, little girl?”
Would I ever! thought Amy Finnegan.
But, of course, he wasn’t talking to her. Forcing a smile, she reached up to straighten her green elf hat, then took the hand of the child in question. Leading the little blonde girl to Santa’s throne-like chair, situated in the middle of the mall, she watched the child climb onto one red-clad thigh.
Oh, to be able to lower her ass onto that sexy thigh. She wanted to moan at the mere thought. Her breasts tingled against her elf costume just imagining that the man with the fake white beard had summoned her.
She bit her lip, envisioning what it would be like if the two of them were alone here, if her sexy Santa invited her to sit on his lap, and if she chose to straddle him in his big red chair instead. Her pussy went damp when she pictured him running his hands up under her little green dress, all the way to her hips to discover she hadn’t worn any panties.
Of course, she had worn panties, every single day they’d worked together, but since everything else about the vision was pure fantasy, why not go all the way?
When Santa lifted her dress in front, spying her bare slit, all open and ready for him, he’d immediately reach into those fur-trimmed pants of his, pull out his hard cock, and watch as she lowered her hungry little cunt down on it, taking it deep inside.
“You know what?” Santa’s deep voice boomed.
Amy flinched as she was yanked from her fantasy, only to find he was still addressing the little girl.
“You’re the very last child to tell me what she wants for Christmas this year before I hop in my sleigh tonight and start delivering toys.”
The tow-headed girl looked uncertain. “Will you have time to make mine?”
Santa smiled. “Of course I will, with the help of my trusty elf, Amy.” He pointed in her direction. “She’s my favorite little helper.” He sent her a quick wink, and dear God, even that made her pussy pulse.
After convincing the little girl she’d get everything on her list, he lowered her to the floor, told her to be good, and—flashing a grin that looked sexy as hell even behind his snowy beard—told her not to forget the cookies, since he’d need a snack by the time he got to her house.
As the child ran off to her waiting mother, Amy saw him glance to the large, ornate clock suspended from the mall’s ceiling. Pushing to his booted feet, he took a few steps toward her. When he spoke, it came out a little less hale and hearty than his Santa voice, but the warm tenor of his tone still heated her up inside. “Well, that’s the last one. Looks like I can hang up my beard for good.”
She tried to sound just as cheerful. “And I can take off my pointy elf shoes for the last time.”
She knew she should be happy about that, but she wasn’t. She’d never dreamed she could lust so hard for a man in a Santa suit, but now that it was Christmas Eve and their charity work was drawing to a close, a heavy shroud of disappointment settled over her. She’d looked forward to seeing him every day after work for the few hours they did the Santa gig together in the evening. And during the last month, Saturdays and Sundays had become her very favorite days of the week, even if it meant elf detail from ten to ten. Now, as the final last-minute shoppers dashed past and storekeepers began to lower their steel link doors, she couldn’t help thinking how boring her nights would seem from this point on, without even the hope he would make a move on her. It was going to be a long, cold winter.
“Have I ever mentioned you make a cute elf?”
Amy’s heartbeat tripled as she raised her gaze to his. Cole Bradshaw had been her friend for years and the object of her intense desire for a month, and no matter how many signals she’d tried to send out, this was the first time he’d ever said anything even remotely flirtatious. Well, other than the night a year or so ago when they’d been drinking together at a happy hour and he’d started a surprisingly naughty conversation, wondering what sorts of things she’d be willing to do if a guy asked her to. But she’d quickly figured out he was thinking of her as Everywoman on that particular evening, mining her for information about the tastes of the average girl on the street. It clearly hadn’t been personal.
Now she smiled and hoped the warmth she felt on her cheeks didn’t equate to a blush. Reaching up, she pulled down his beard to take a look at that gorgeous, masculine face of his—all brown eyes and olive complexion, a dark, sexy, two-day stubble on his chin. “You’re a pretty hot Santa yourself.”
His grin melted through her like warm syrup. “Listen, are you busy tonight?”
What? Had that last signal actually worked? It was Christmas Eve, so most people had plans, but given that Amy and Cole were both from out of town and neither had flown home to see their families this year, the question was logical—and oh-so-welcome to her ears. “Um, I’m having dinner with a friend and her husband, but after that…”
He looked utterly enticing when he raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t you stop by my place on the way home? I don’t have anything happening, and I hate to spend Christmas Eve alone. If nothing else, I’m sure we can at least find Miracle on 34th Street somewhere on cable.” In a teasing, singsong voice, he added, “I’ve got eggnog,” as if that would be the factor to push her over the edge.
“Sure. Sounds nice. About…ten-ish?”
He nodded. “See you then.” As he began to stride away, he stopped and looked back at her with another alluring wink. “As often as you’ve seen me in this Santa suit lately, I hope you’ll still be able to recognize me without it.”
* * * * *
In preparation for Amy’s arrival, Cole had plugged in the Christmas tree lights, lit a few candles, and built a blazing fire in the hearth. He’d arranged the special gifts he’d bought for her under the tree, and he’d put his Santa hat back on one last time—minus the rest of the outfit.
Now, as he sat waiting for her, glancing down at his raging hard-on, he hoped like hell he hadn’t gone too far, been too bold.
But from the moment he’d understood that Amy had a crush on him, he’d wanted her. He’d wanted her in a way that had nearly consumed him. And sure, they could go the usual route, take the path that began with handholding and gentle first kisses—but somehow, with Amy, he’d wanted more than that, from the start. She was sweet as hell, but he couldn’t help wondering if…even hoping…that something darker and more feral might lurk inside her, as it did him. And if Amy didn’t possess a hot, adventurous side, well, maybe if he was lucky, she would before the night came to a close.
Either way, he longed to arouse her in a way she’d never been aroused before. Already, he wanted to be different to her—better than any lover she’d
ever had. He’d always felt close to her, always wondered if maybe something beyond friendship could grow between them, and now that he was finally going to pursue it, he’d decided to go no holds barred.
He only hoped she’d be as turned on by his game of seduction as he was.
* * * * *
“What did you bring?” asked Amy’s best friend, Kelly, over the cell phone wedged tightly against Amy’s ear.
“Cookies.”
Amy sat outside Cole’s townhouse in her car glancing down at the cookie tin on the passenger seat. She’d been nervous, so she’d called Kelly to shore up her confidence.
“Cookies are good. Now, more importantly, what did you wear?”
“Black jeans, red Christmas sweater.”
“No, silly. Underneath.”
“Oh.” Amy let out a sigh. “Well, I wore…plain white underwear and a white bra.”
Kelly’s voice brimmed with her usual dry sarcasm. “That’ll really turn him on.”
“Look, through my entire elf career, I wore a sexy bra and panty set under my elf suit every single day, just in case he ever started reading my signals and made a move on me.”
“And…?”
“And, well, after twenty-eight days of lacy lingerie, I guess I’m officially giving up.”
Even if he had told her she was cute today.
Even if he had invited her over here tonight.
They were friends, after all, so such gestures meant nothing. And although she’d entertained the idea of wearing a sexy teddy beneath her clothes, just in case she was wrong, she’d stopped herself. She couldn’t survive feeling the silk and lace rub sensually against her skin all night if nothing was going to happen.
“Giving up?” Kelly spouted. “Now? Why would you give up now?”
Amy sighed. “Eggnog and an old Christmas movie don’t exactly spell seduction, so even if I felt hopeful when he first invited me, I’ve now drawn the conclusion that it’s only a simple act of friendship.”
Yep, she was finally getting it through her thick head that nothing—sexual, romantic, or otherwise—was going to ensue between them. It didn’t matter whether it was because Cole was on the rebound from a recent breakup with a long-time girlfriend or because maybe he just wasn’t attracted to Amy. What mattered was that she’d spent over a month in unrequited lust already, and she wasn’t the type of girl who liked to waste a lot of time on the chase. Playing hard-to-get had never been a game she enjoyed, either on the giving end or the receiving—she liked to get to the action as soon as possible. So she’d told herself tonight would not be about signals or chemistry or those incredibly sexy grins of his; she was simply spending a holiday with a friend. That way she wouldn’t have to be disappointed in the end.
“Okay, listen to me,” Kelly said. “How long have you known the guy?”
“Four years.” She’d met Cole on the job. She’d been new to both Chicago and the investment firm where they worked. Although in different departments, the two of them had interacted enough that they’d become fast friends and stayed that way.
“And how long have you been wanting to get horizontal with him?”
“Well, I suppose I’ve been attracted to him since the beginning, but it’s only been the last month that’s felt like pure torture. And for your information, it doesn’t have to be horizontal. It could be vertical, at a perpendicular angle, or upside down for all I care.”
Only when he’d told her about his breakup just before Thanksgiving had Amy truly admitted to herself she thought of him as more than a friend. And when he’d invited her to be his elf, explaining the money from the Santa photos would go to a local charity, her eager acceptance had only proven to her how much she wanted him. Green was hardly her best color, yet she’d jumped at the chance to be his elfin assistant.
“But it’s not going to happen,” she added, reminding herself as much as Kelly. “And in fact, my Christmas gift to myself is going to be getting over him, and my New Year’s resolution is going to be moving on and setting my sights on someone else.”
If she could. The truth she didn’t tell Kelly was that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d had the hots for someone this bad. It was worse when the guy was already a friend, because that instantly turned attraction into something that was about more than just sex. She really cared for Cole.
And if she sat here thinking sappy thoughts like this for even a minute longer, spending the whole evening with him would be pure torture, so before Kelly could come up with a snappy reply, she hurried the conversation to a close. “I have to go.”
“Just one question first.”
“What?”
“If you’ve known the guy for four years and been flirting with him for a month, and this is the first time he’s ever suggested a private evening for the two of you, don’t you think assuming nothing will happen is…a little hasty?”
Maybe Kelly made sense, but Amy couldn’t get her hopes up now that she’d found the strength to make the decision to move on. She answered succinctly. “No.”
“Well, then, one more question. If you’re so determined nothing’s going to happen tonight, why were you nervous enough to call me?”
Good question. Too good. She answered with a small growl of frustration, speaking through clenched teeth. “I said I have to go. I’ll talk to you after Christmas.”
With that, she disconnected the call, shoved the phone in her purse, and got out of the car. Despite Kelly’s arguments, she was still determined to put the last few wasted weeks of lust behind her, and with that thought firmly in mind, she tucked her cookie tin under one arm and rang Cole’s doorbell.
“It’s open. Come on in.”
Amy sighed. He couldn’t even be bothered to answer the door? It solidified her theory that he saw her only as a friend—a very casual, mi casa es su casa kind of friend.
Reaching for the knob, she eased the door inward, surprised to find the lighting so dim when she stepped inside.
The first thing she spotted was the fire blazing in the small hearth in his living room—a toasty welcome from the typical Chicago winter dropping snow on the suburbs outside.
The second thing she noticed was Cole sprawling comfortably in an easy chair. Wearing nothing but his Santa hat.
Amy sucked in her breath, felt dizzy. What the hell…?
His cock was even more majestic than she’d fantasized, jutting like a stone column up past his navel and onto his washboard stomach. He absently stroked it with one hand, like he might casually pet a cat at his side, and his eyes twinkled brighter than the lights on his Christmas tree when he gazed up at her.
She could only imagine the look of utter shock on her face. Forcing her opened mouth shut, and shoving her cookie tin onto the nearest table before she dropped it, she simply stood and stared.
“Would you like to sit on Santa’s lap, little girl?”
Her heartbeat dropped to her cunt, seeming to pound, pound, pound against the crotch of her jeans. Part of her wanted to ask him if she was dreaming. And part of her wanted to make sure he hadn’t started on the eggnog without her and forgotten who he’d invited over tonight. But the biggest part of her knew not to look a gift Santa in the cock, so without saying a word, she crossed the floor toward him.
The fire warmed the room, but Amy knew the heat invading her senses came directly from him, emitted from the sexual glimmer in his gaze, the lazy confidence of his pose, the unspoken power radiating from his tremendous hard-on.
Easing down onto his bare thigh was, surprisingly, just as intimidating as it was arousing. Even as a wave of pleasure echoed outward through her pussy and ass, turning her nipples to solid pebbles against her bra, being so close to him and the magnificent erection between his legs felt like cuddling up to a sleeping lion that might awaken and overpower her at any moment. She hoped he couldn’t feel her tremble as his arm slid around her waist, as she draped her own around his broad shoulders.
He looked up into her eyes.
“What do you want for Christmas, Amy?”
She couldn’t resist meeting his gaze, licking her upper lip, and glancing down at his cock. “That.”
His seductive smile sent another surge of wetness through her cunt. “Well, Santa would love to let you have it, hard and deep, but first you have to answer a very important question. Have you been naughty or nice?”
The question made her flush with fresh warmth as she let out a giggle and cast him her best playful look. “Well, I’m afraid I’ve been a very bad little girl lately.”
His gaze never wavered. “What have you done that’s so bad?”
“For the past month I’ve been lusting for you, and wearing lace panties underneath my elf dress just hoping you’d peel them off, and thinking incredibly dirty thoughts about you day and night.”
His grin managed to stay unerringly sexy even as it turned a little sheepish. “Santa’s sorry it took him so long to figure that out.”
“And exactly what tipped Santa off?”
“A little birdie named Lisa told me.” The woman, also from their office, took the Santa photographs at the mall. Amy had confided in her one day over lunch, and she was suddenly very glad Lisa couldn’t keep a secret.
“Unfortunately, though,” he went on, his grin fading, “naughty little girls have to be punished before they get what they want for Christmas.”
Amy bit her lip. “Punished how?”
A wicked grin took over his expression as he shifted his gaze to the Christmas tree next to the chair. “Santa has some presents for you to open.”
Glancing beneath the tree, she saw four gifts, wrapped in elegant red and gold foil. The sight made her suck in a deep breath. It meant this wasn’t an impulsive act on his part—he’d been planning it. She looked back to him. “I hate to break it to you, Santa, but gifts don’t sound much like punishment.”
“You haven’t seen the gifts yet.”
A thrilling dart of uncertainty shot from her chest down to her womb. She studied his eyes, which were slowly turning from playful to something more serious and forbidding. When next he spoke, his voice was deeper, commanding. “Sit down on the floor, near the gifts.”