Page 13 of The Elf’s Naughty Toy

“She was his prisoner?” I ask. That definitely was a detail my parents left out of their epic love story.

“According to your mother, yes. But that’s all I will say on the matter. If you want to know more, Brawn, you’ll have to ask them. It’s not my place to share. Now, as far as you are concerned, my boy, I will not let you kidnap the girl, nor will I let you both live miserably broken lives. Which means it’s time for me to pay her a visit.”

Hope takes root inside my chest. If anyone can fix what I’ve done, it’s Santa.

12

Millie

Iquietly shut the front door and rush to my car, throwing my bags into the trunk before I climb in. I can’t do it. I can’t wake up tomorrow morning and pretend that it’s all okay. Pretend that my father didn’t destroy our family. Pretend that Brawn didn’t break my heart. I know Laney is going to be upset, but I hope she’ll be so wrapped up in her presents that she’ll forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye.

“Hello, Millie.”

I nearly launch myself out of my seat at the sound of the deep voice. I look over, and sitting in my passenger seat is an old man dressed like Santa Claus. Great, so now I’m going to be robbed on Christmas Eve. Wow. This holiday couldn’t get any worse. Next year, I’m going to be joining my mom on the cruise and pretending like it’s the Fourth of July on some Caribbean Island.

I reach for my door handle but the lock clicks, sending me into a full-blown panic attack. I’m not even sure I’m going to be alive next Christmas.

“It’s okay, Millie. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you about Brawn.”

What? My vision slowly begins to focus on the man beside me, studying him closer. The gray hair. The long, silky white beard. The creases around his eyes. His big round belly which definitely looks like it’s seen a cookie or two in its lifetime. He looks just like the Santa depicted in all the books.

“He told me that you learned the truth about what he did. He said you told him to never come back.”

My pulse starts to race. I think I’m having a conversation with the real Santa Claus.

“I want to tell you a story, Millie. About the elf who has the most genuine heart. The boy who believed he was doing the right thing, not understanding that human life isn’t so simple. He thought that by revealing the truth all those years ago, he’d be giving you your dad back. He had no idea he’d be taking your mom away from you in the process. He didn’t know the reason why your father had been lying.”

It sounds like Santa is here pleading Brawn’s case, but why couldn’t Brawn come and do that himself? Why is apologizing so difficult for the people in my life? They never fight for me. They never say the hard words. It’s five simple letters, S-O-R-R-Y, but it has the power to heal a broken heart. Yet, no one realizes that.

“But I need to tell you, Millie. If Brawn hadn’t acted impulsively, the fate of your family would’ve been far worse. I can’t tell you any more than that, and I’m not saying that excuses him for his actions, but I wanted you to know the truth.”

Great, so one way or another, my life would’ve sucked. “I guess that means I owe the guy a thank you.” I can’t even help the anger in my voice. This entire situation is totally absurd. Here I am having a conversation withthejolly old Saint Nick, and instead of him asking me what I want for Christmas, he’strying to convince me that his elf is a decent guy. But a decent guy would have stood before me and begged me to forgive him.

“I didn’t say that,” Santa states, narrowing his eyes, not sounding very jolly at all. “But I do think you owe the boy a chance.”

I shake my head. Brawn had a chance. He had a chance to beg, grovel, and show how terribly sorry he was, but he left. And now, he sent in the big guy here to do the hard work.

“Thank you, Santa. But I just want to be left alone. Now, do you mind?”

His head rears back like I just slapped him across the face. “Yes, I mind. No wonder you were always on the naughty list. You have no respect or appreciation for the good things. Here I am making a special stop on Christmas Eve when I have millions of boys and girls to visit, and your stubborn ass can’t even appreciate the gesture. Well, I tell you what, maybe after you spend some time up at the North Pole and see what some children are truly enduring, you’ll be singing a different tune. He suddenly waves his hand and then I’m no longer inside my car. I’m standing in what looks to be a cottage, staring at a shirtless Brawn. Noting all the ripples of muscles running along his broad shoulders and down his strong back.

“Keep her locked in here until I return, Brawn. The girl needs to be taught a lesson on how to be nice.” Santa’s gone within a flash, and now I’m alone with Brawn in this very confined little space.

“Millie?” He turns to face me. His eyes darkening on the spot. Shoulders tensing as he takes me in. A slow and steady perusal, head to toe, eyes lingering on my cleavage. His chest rising and falling faster and faster.

His body is incredible. Every inch of his strong chest is detailed with lines of rigid strength. Every black tattoo makes him look dangerous and sexy. My eyes drop lower, followingthe trail of little course black hairs leading its way down to one incredibly thick cock which has risen in my honor. There’s no denying that he is one sexy-as-hell elf.

“You see something you want, little dove?” His voice is about as rough as my ragged breathing. That uncanny force is drawing me in. My lower belly is tingling to life, and that magical feeling that I can’t describe is now coursing through my veins. He takes a step toward me, and a tremor of desire runs up my spine. There’s a force much stronger at play here because every thought that had just been racing through my mind has vanished. There’s only one thought plaguing me now, causing a rampant ache between my legs.

He takes another step forward, and my knees grow weak. “Looks like you’re a very naughty girl indeed.” His eyes have turned to cinder, his body loaded with tension. The sweet elf I’ve come to love has disappeared and left in his place is someone dark. Someone dominant. Someone who looks to be caught under the same spell.

“Santa shouldn’t have brought you here. My control is weaker up here.” Another three feet of space is removed between us and I’m not only running out of a safety zone, I’m also running out of air. “I need to make you mine, Millie. I have to claim you.” He takes the final step in front me, and my knees give out.

His arm wraps around my back, catching me before I touch the ground, pulling me snug against his chest. He lifts me in the air, taking me to his bed. “I’m going to make it better, little dove. I’m going to give you what you need.”

I don’t understand it. It’s almost like I’ve been taken to another planet, and sex is what I need to survive. It’s all I can think about. My back hits the mattress and in one fast shrug he rids me of my pants, collapsing onto his knees as his eyes land between my legs. “It’s pink and swollen.” His head dropsforward and his nose nuzzles against my folds, breathing me in deep, sending a blast of that all-consuming heat through my pussy. “And wetter than she was last night.”

“Brawn.” I nearly buck off the bed as his tongue comes out and licks my juices up slowly. His moan rumbling against my sensitive skin. I grip onto his head, holding on for what feels like dear life as he dives back in for more. Ravenously licking up every drop.

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