Page 161 of Daddy's Naughty List

Or where to take it.

Sure, I’d be Santa, but there was a startling number of ways that scene could develop.

He had another light bulb moment. “Oh, you’re right. That’s a very good point.”

Stirling wasn’t moving quickly to answer me, though.

I got a cute peck and another wiggly hug as he pressed against me, but he seemed to be processing the request for information at the pace of a computer from the early eighties.

Think.

Think.

Think.

When his Winnie the Pooh moment was over and the lights in his head came back on, he smiled brighter. “I would like you to be Santa and the scene starts almost like we’re at the mall. I think you’ll be able to figure out the rest based on the context clues.”

Bullshit.

“Okay, baby.” Giving him another kiss, I tried not to look like he was driving me crazy… even though he was driving me crazy. “Do you need help getting ready or do you know what you’re going to wear?”

And that got me another thinky frown… He even inched back to look down at his clothes. “No. But this will not work.”

He was sexy in his business-casual look, but most scenes didn’t start with slacks and a baby-blue polo.

“I can fix that, though. You like buying me clothes and you’re even subtle sometimes.”

Huh?

I’d done something, though I wasn’t sure what, but he seemed to think it’d be helpful, so I just stayed quiet.

“Yes. I’ll go get ready in the bedroom but where is your costume?” Frowning adorably, his brows pulled together. “The naughty room?”

He refused to call the playroom a playroom or even a dungeon, so it’d been dubbed the naughty room.

I’d gotten really good at ignoring how Little that sounded and just nodded like it was the most grown-up way ever to describe a room with sex toys and a spanking bench.

“Yes. I’ve got it hanging up in there.” I couldn’t see a traditional social event where I’d wear it out in public, so it’d gone in the sexy costume stash. “I’ll go get ready in there then.”

“Thank you.” Stirling was trying not to giggle but his attempt was failing badly. “I know you like to get me ready but I want it to be a surprise.”

“You’re sounding more and more like Conner.” I didn’t like it. My glare just got a snicker from my normally sweet boy. “If you start prancing around in high heels and wearing see-through skirts, we’re going to have a long conversation.”

With his giggles completely breaking free, he gave me a peck on the cheek and wiggled away. “I’ll keep my clothes on. Don’t worry. But everyone looks better in heels, so no promises on the shoes.”

That was another line of adorable bullshit.

He’d tried the shoes but his brain wandered a bit too much, and every time he got distracted, he almost killed himself. So we’d stuck with playful panties and things like that because they were sexy and wouldn’t give him a concussion by making him fall and hit his head against the dresser.

Shaking my head got more laughter from him as he bounced into the house and sounded like an elephant thundering up the stairs.

How someone so short could be so loud I’d never know.

“If you fall through the stairs, I will tell the ER how you got hurt.” I wasn’t going to take the blame for that either.

“I’ll be good, Santa.” His cheeky response said he wasn’t taking me seriously enough.

“Santa gives out punishments too. So remember that.” Hmm, more laughter.

---