Page 47 of Ho Ho Oh No

Nah. We’re not plotting to overthrow our Doms. We love them. This isn’t a mutiny. It’s good-natured fun.Girl bonding. Or so I assume.

Besides, I’d bet money they trade secrets about us. I’ve been in male-dominated spaces long enough to know that they talk as much shit about relationships as women do. Sometimes more. It’s just differently coded and often padded with wishful thinking and sexism.

Fuck it.

I’ll stay in the Brat Pack.

Even if that means wearing this atrocious outfit to the party.Ugh.

Chapter 13

She's an angry elf

SAWYER

My love for my wife cannot be quantified. Here she is, nine months pregnant with our twins and still indulging me by wearing a couple’s costume.

Sammy is the Jovie to my Elf. And she’s absolutely adorable,ginormousbelly and all.

She swirls her hips, making the pink skirt with the white fuzzy trim swish around her thighs. Naturally, she’s wearing the matching hat and red tights since we don’t do anything half-assed. I had to help her put the tights on. Had I not already donned my own pair of yellow ones for my Buddy the Elf costume, I’d have had no clue what I was doing. It would have still been fun, though.

“Welp,mostof the costume still fits. Miraculously.” Balling up the red belt she was supposed to wear, Sammy tosses it at me. “This is a lost cause, though.”

I catch it, thus saving the buckle from damaging my handsome face. “I have an idea for that.”

She waves me off, waddling toward the door. “Nah, it’s fine. Let’s go. I want cookies. Lots of them. And pie. Cake. Fudge. I didn’t eat lunch, remember?”

I’d like a moment of appreciation for not pointing out how I made lunch for her, but she didn’t eat it. Applause is also warranted.

“Hold on, princess. It’ll only take a second.” I dart to the corner of our bunk room, digging quickly through the remnants of our wrapping supplies. I emerge with the half-used roll of ribbon. “This should do the trick. Where are the scissors?”

“I honestly don’t care whether I have a belt or not.”

I move the tape and bows aside, searching for the scissors. “No offense, princess. Without something to break up the dress, you look like pink cotton candy. And this isn’t a circus-themed party.”

“Then why are you such a clown?”

“I deserved that,” I mumble as my eyes land on the scissors. “Jackpot!”

When I approach her, she grins like she has a secret. “What, princess?”

“You look simultaneously ridiculous and sexy.”

I glance down at my costume and adjust the belt buckle. “Only a real man can wear tights and make them look this good.”

She lets her gaze trail down my body, one side of her mouth quirked. “The cup is a nice touch.”

“Well, I needed something to hide my junk. If the other guys saw what I’m packing, they’d all have inferiority complexes.”

Without warning, she knocks her knuckles gently over my plastic-covered package. The package between my legs, not the gifts in my sack.

The red plush Santa’s sack, you pervert. Get your mind out of the gutter.

I lurch back a step, removing the family jewels from her reach. “Easy, woman. Don’t you want more kids one day?”

“Let’s see how the next week goes first.” Her laugh rings like a bell around the small space. She lifts her chin, smacking duck lips at me. “Kiss me, stud.”

“With pleasure. Just keep your hands where I can see them.”

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