Page 6 of Santa's Pretty Helper

I shake my head, my stomach bottoming out at the thought. “No. If he felt the same about me, he would’ve done something about it by now. I can’t handle embarrassing myself like that. I’d never be able to talk to him again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure he doesn’t feel the same way. You should’ve seen the way he was watching you eat tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

Madison leans on the counter, eyes glittering. “He had this hungry look on his face, like he wished it was something other than food going into your mouth.”

I blush furiously and Madison laughs again. “I don’t think so.”

“I know so. I was there. I might as well have been wallpaper for all the attention he paid to me at our table. And you said that he almost kissed you the night of your nineteenth birthday party.”

I sigh. “But he didn’t, and that was over a year ago, and nothing like that has happened since.”

“Maybe he’s holding back because of your brother, or the age difference, or both.” She pauses, a thoughtful look on her face. “Would it change things for you? If you knew without a doubt that he wanted you as much as you want him?”

I let out a weak laugh. I can’t imagine Gabe wanting me even a fraction as much as I want him. “I mean, sure. I guess. But we’re talking about fairy tales here.”

She shrugs. “I’m not so sure about that. I think he’s into you and holding back because he doesn’t want Eric to murder him.”

I giggle. “Yeah, Eric probably would.” Despite the ten years between us, Eric and I have always been close. I remember him playing Barbies with me as a kid, teaching me to ride a bike, helping me with homework. He’s always been protective, and I can easily imagine him giving any boyfriend of mine a hard time. I guess it’s good that I’ve never had one, then. “But still, I don’t think Gabe’s into me that way.”

Madison blinks slowly and sighs. “If you say so.”

“I’m gonna go study for a bit before bed. See you in the morning?”

She grins at me. “Yeah. Thanks for dinner. It was great.”

I smile back and head to my room. My bedroom’s off of the living room, while Madison’s is off of the kitchen. As soon asthe door closes behind me, my mind’s back on my nineteenth birthday party. I press my back against my door and close my eyes, imagining it’s Gabe pinning me in place.

I imagine his hands on my hips, lifting me onto the counter and stepping between my legs. In my fantasy, his hands slide up my legs, under my dress. He’d kiss me until I couldn’t breathe, until I was drunk on his mouth, and then trail kisses up and down my neck, his hands inching higher.

I huff out a breath, replaying seeing him earlier tonight. He always looks so sexy in his chef’s uniform, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair perfectly tousled, the white material hugging his wide shoulders.

Was he really watching me eat like he was thinking of something other than food? A shiver races down my spine at the thought, and I’m suddenly too worked up to even think about studying.

I lock my bedroom door, kick off my pants, grab my laptop and then settle into my bed. I open up my browser and quickly navigate to one of the many sites I have bookmarked. See, while I’m a completely inexperienced virgin, I’m also a bit of a porn aficionado. Connoisseur? I’m not sure what the right word is, but I like porn. A lot. And I go to different sites to scratch different itches. Sometimes I want a video with a specific scenario—sweet and tender, or lots of oral, or getting tied up. Sometimes I want an off-the-charts hot audio, where a man with a sexy as hell voice describes all the dirty things he wants to do to me while calling me his good girl. Sometimes I read my porn, like a lady.

And sometimes I want a dirty cam show. There’s something about knowing that it’s live, about interacting with them, that excites me. It’s safe and harmless, but also filthy and sexy and real.

And almost always, I’m imagining it’s me and Gabe or just Gabe in whatever I’m watching. Nothing gets me off faster than imagining it’s Gabe’s mouth on my pussy, that it’s Gabe’s big fist working his cock, that it’s Gabe coming all over my face.

If I was lucky enough to be his, I’d be such a good girl for him. I’d do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. I know, from all the porn I’ve watched, all the smut I’ve read, that I have a submissive streak a mile wide. The idea of giving myself over to a man I trust lights me up.

The idea of giving myself over toGabeincinerates me.

I arrange my laptop on a pillow in front of me and then reach into my bedside table, pulling out my favorite little toy. It’s bright pink and shaped like a rose, and feels like absolute heaven on my clit. I slip the toy under the covers and then start typing. I know exactly what I’m in the mood for tonight. I navigate to one of my favorite sites, the one with high quality amateur videos. I love how raw and real these ones are. No one covered in baby oil, no one with enormous fake tits, no faceless man with a big dick. These are real couples with real bodies having real sex.

The idea of having sex on camera sends a little thrill through me. Am I an exhibitionist as well as a submissive? Maybe. Probably.

I scroll through the site until I see a thumbnail that catches my eye. The image is dark and moody with a petite woman on her knees in front of a man, his face hidden in shadows. I love clips with lighting like this because it’s easy to imagine it’s me and Gabe.

I hit play, adjusting the volume so that it’s low enough that Madison can’t hear. The woman in the clip is gorgeous, with long dark hair and porcelain skin. Her lips are full and pouty, her eyes wide and eager. The man is tall and built, tattoos snaking down his arms. I don’t think Gabe has any tattoos, but it doesn’t matter. In my mind, this man is Gabe. His body is strong andlean, and he’s tall. It’s close enough that my imagination can fill in the rest. I shiver when I think about Gabe’s blue eyes on me as I sink to my knees in front of him.

I slip my hand under the sheets and grab my rose. I turn it on and then slide it beneath my panties, gasping slightly as it comes into contact with my sensitive clit. On the screen, the woman strokes her man’s cock, then takes it into her mouth, sucking him deep and slow.

God, what I wouldn’t give to do that to Gabe. To taste him, feel the weight of him on my tongue, hear the sounds he’d make for me.

The man in the video weaves his hand into the woman’s hair. “Your mouth feels so good, darling,” he purrs, and I imagine it’s Gabe saying those words to me. That it’s Gabe’s hands in my hair. I’m obsessed with his hands. I mean, I’m obsessed with all things Gabe, but his hands are a work of art. Strong and masculine, rough and scarred from years spent in kitchens.

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