Page 10 of Santa's Coming

Reaching into my bag of treats, I pull out a single-serving can of red wine and a plastic cup, pouring a couple of ounces before handing it to her.

Searching back in the Santa sack, I produce a travel-size bottle of lotion. She gives me a nervous look as I reach for her feet, placing them on my lap.

“One foot massage for Emily,” I growl, rubbing the lotion into my hands before running my thumb up her arch.

The holiday spirit is all about giving, and tonight, I aim to give her an unforgettable Christmas treat.

Chapter 13: Christmas List Delight

"Santa," I moan, tipping my head back. His strong fingers expertly massaging my right foot is heaven. I melt into the couch, releasing all the tension in my body.

“Close your eyes,” he rumbles.

Yes, sir.I laugh internally. Enjoying the pampering, I blink open one eye to confirm this is real, that I’m not dreaming. A smoldering man in a Santa suit is giving me a Christmas Eve foot rub. This is so scandalous and so hot.

“You have the cutest toes,” he says, breaking the silence.

I furrow my brows, not agreeing with him, but silently praise myself for getting a pedicure last week. Otherwise, this scene would be unsightly.

“Don’t be nervous. I want to spoil you.”

Could I record that?Can I replay his deep, sexy voice saying that over and over and again and again?

Santa. Fucking Santa.I reach for the wine and take a long sip to calm my nerves while admiring his gorgeous face. With the hat off, I recognize him from around town. I don’t know his name. I don’t know anything about him, but I have seen this sexy, bearded man before.

He moves his attention to my other foot, and damn if I am not wet right now. His attention to detail and slow strokes give me every kind of clue about what type of lover he is. A good one. Probably a great one.

Am I really going to sleep with Santa?I ponder. The satin and what’s underneath were a bold choice. Choices that say I am open to what the night has to offer, and it looks like it’s going to be Santa.

Chapter 14: Santa’s Lap

“Straddle Santa’s lap,” I command, effortlessly pulling her onto me. “You have no idea how much I craved this …”

Firmly holding her wrists, I recreate the bar pose, a smirk playing on my lips. “Your lack of hesitation back then told me you were a naughty girl.”

Emily giggles, and fuck does it confirm all my nasty thoughts. With her forearms on my shoulders, I indulge in her allure, seizing a handful of hair at her nape before capturing her in a deep, passionate kiss. Our kiss is a dance of mutual desire, stirring emotions deep within me. We kiss until her hands slide off my red coat.

“Tats!” she gasps, catching sight of my Celtic sleeve tattoo, now exposed. If she hadn’t noticed me before, this indication of the real me could shatter the fantasy.

“I didn’t know Santa was such a scofflaw,” she teases, kissing my shoulder. “Or that he was Irish.” Her fingers trail along my tattoo before she plants her lips on my neck. “And so buff.”

She giggles, and I grasp her ass firmly, sinking my fingers into the thick flesh. While I never want to let go, my hands want to continue exploring.

I steadily unbutton her red, satin top, revealing her chest. We hold a long stare before I whisper, “Black lace. Naughty.” I playfully bite her cleavage and tug at the straps with my teeth before kissing her neck. Guiding her so her back is on the couch, I lift her hips, shedding the satin shorts. Tossing them aside, I admire her beauty and this sexy fucking body.

“Did you pick this out for Santa?” I inquire, appreciating her strappy, black, lace lingerie set.

She nods.Merry Christmas to me.The desire to ravish her competes with the urge to savor every inch of her slowly.

“Emily,” I murmur. “There’s another gift in the bag. Let me get it.” Keeping an arm around her waist, I lean over to the floor to retrieve a box.

“Magnums,” she quips, seeing the box of condoms.

I give a casual shrug. “When you decide to open this present is entirely up to you.”

“Santa,” she says in a pant, “I would really like to play with my new toy.”

“You’re incredible.” Her consent propels my hands into action. “So wet for Santa,” I murmur, cupping her. “I can’t wait to taste this cookie.”

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