Page 61 of Thrill Seeker (Sinful in Seattle)
I steepled my fingers together. âWhat would you say if I said I have a Santa suit in the building?â
; âWould it fit me?â
I raised one brow. âWho would be your helper elf?â
âMel. Iâm sure Iâ¦â She swallowed. âI can make it work.â
âThe suit is cut to fit me.â
Her eyes widened. âWhat? Why?â
âThat is not a story weâre going to get into. Suffice it to say, I donât wear the suit for anyone.â
Her eyebrows snapped down. âNot even for those kids downstairs?â
âNot my problem.â
She stood up straight. âThatâs unconscionable.â
âI donât do Christmas, Miss Kane. Not even when you give me that look.â
âWhat do you mean you âdonât do Christmasâ?â
I stood up and circled the desk to stand in front of her. âCall me Scrooge. Iâm okay with it.â
âBut thereâs innocent children who believe in Santa. They believe that someone is out there toââ
âGive them gifts? Yeah, I know. I see the greed and the tantrums in my store. Yesterday, I watched a man punch out another man just to get the last drone in our display. Christmas spirit is everywhere.â
âWhat happened to you?â she whispered.
I tucked my thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans. âNot relevant.â
âItâs very relevant. Surely thereâs some way for us to come to a compromise.â
âYou donât have anything to offer.â
âNothing?â
The innocent hope in her expression didnât help the precarious state of my libido. I wanted to bend her over my brotherâs desk. But exceptional pussy wasnât enough to make me face all that laughter and light. My cockâs reaction to her certainly seemed to state otherwise, but I was not ruled by my dick.
Maybe if I lost myself in her sweet body for a few days Iâd even out enough to get through the holiday. But a few hours wouldnât suffice.
Not if I had to put on that damn Santa suit.
âNot sure youâre prepared to put that sort of chip on the table, Miss Kane.â My voice was husky and low to my own ears. The flush in her cheeks made my cock throb.
I watched the realization hit her.
She stumbled back a step.
I caught her before she tripped on the edge of the rug. Her sweater was soft over her narrow back. She gripped the front of my shirt.
âJust what would you do to get me to play Santa, Miss Kane?â
Would you like to read more?