Page 11 of Santa's Pretty Helper

“Will do.”

She blows me a kiss and then pulls my door closed behind her, leaving me alone in our apartment. I flip open my laptop, deciding to start my quiet night with some mindless internet time. I browse through my usual favorite sites—celebrity gossip, horoscopes, fashion—before scrolling through Reddit. As I scroll, I notice an ad for a site called OnlySantas, featuring a sexy shirtless man in a Santa hat. It’s clearly a play on OnlyFans, but, you know. Festive.

I can’t help but giggle at the silly concept. Leave it to the internet to find a way to make the most wholesome things raunchy. But…okay, fine, I’m curious now, so I click on the link. I can think of worse things to look at than sexy Santas.

The homepage loads and I’m greeted by rows of thumbnails of men and women in Christmas-themed wear, all in sexy poses and various states of undress. Some are posing seductively, while others have video previews playing where they’re stripping out of their costumes or suggestively licking candy canes.

I blink, taking it all in. Sure, it’s silly, but it’s also kind of fun. Could I get off to Santa?

Only one way to find out.

I scroll through the different male profiles, giggling at their cheeky bios, my cheeks heating at some of the explicit photos. One Santa is naked on all fours with a thick, plastic candy cane sticking out of his muscular ass.

Goodness.

I scroll past the candy cane Santa, eyes dancing across the thumbnails filling the screen. This is totally silly, but also kindof fun, and looking at all of these pictures has me getting kind of tingly between my legs.

Looks like Icanget off to Santa.

I keep scrolling, but then quickly go back up when a familiar face catches my eye. I blink slowly, disbelieving as I lean in closer to my laptop screen.

“It can’t be,” I whisper. I blink again, but I can’t deny what I’m seeing.

It’s Gabe. His piercing blue eyes stare back at me, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s listed as a featured newcomer, with a red and white Santa hat perched on his head, this thick hair peeking out from beneath it.

My heart hammers in my chest as I click on his profile. I can’t believe that Gabe’s on here. His profile name is Nicholas Saint, and beneath his very brief bio are links to other sites where people can pay to watch him.

I sit back, letting the knowledge that this isn’t a new thing he’s doing in the wake of being unemployed sink in.

Gabe does cam shows. Gabe posts clips on porn sites. Gabe has an OnlyFans.

Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.

I scroll through the photos he’s posted. I’ve never seen Gabe shirtless before, and he’s every bit as perfect as I imagined he’d be. Thick pecs, arms carved out of marble, abs I want to lick. In one photo, he’s wearing a Santa hat and Santa pants, holding a wrapped present suggestively in his lap. In another, he’s in nothing but a pair of red and white striped boxers, a playful grin on his face.

I hover over the button to preview his welcome video. My heart races, and my entire body feels too warm. It’s probably wrong of me to even think about watching his content, but I can’t stop myself. I click the button, my breath caught in my throat as the video begins to play. Gabe’s face fills the screen, his blue eyessparkling. “Hey there,” he says, his deep voice making me shiver. “Want to join my naughty list?”

I stare at the screen, my heart pounding so hard that it feels like a massive drum, the echoes of it reverberating through my blood. I blink and then I notice the little red light flashing in the corner of his profile.

He’s doing a live show.

Right now.

I hesitate, my cursor hovering over the “Join Live Show” button.

I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. I should close the laptop, walk away, and pretend I never saw this. He’s Eric’s best friend. Just because I have this ridiculous crush on him doesn’t mean I have the right to…to watch. Fantasizing is one thing, but watching his show is…I don’t know. Like an invasion of his privacy or something.

But wrong or not, I can’t stop myself from clicking the button.

The feed takes a minute to load, cartoon candy canes and Christmas trees dancing across the screen as the video buffers. And then he’s there, on my screen, shirtless. He’s wearing a Santa hat and smirking at the camera in a way that has my nipples going tight and achy. It looks like he’s in his bedroom, bathed in soft, warm lighting.

A little jolt goes through me as I drink in the details of Gabe’s bedroom. The king-sized bed he’s lounging on, the grayish-blue walls, the brown and white blankets on the bed.

Gabe’s talking in a low, sexy voice, but I barely register what he’s saying because I’m too enraptured at the sight of him. I can’t stop staring at the way his muscles move beneath his smooth skin, the way his eyes seem to glitter in the soft lighting. For a moment, it’s easy to imagine that he’s looking at me that way and not a camera, and I have to remember to breathe.

This is better than any Christmas present I’ve ever received.

He shifts on the bed, abs bunching and flexing as he moves. Heat pools low in my stomach, and I lick my lips. I can’t look away. I’m drawn like a moth to a flame. He’s so confident, so charming, so utterly captivating that I know this is only going to deepen my obsession with him.

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