Page 12 of His Taste Of Christmas

“Fuck,” I mutter, looking up at the ceiling, hoping for some sort of miracle.

“I really want you to have that drink with me, Angel.” I look to the mirror in front of me to find Mr Hayes’s reflection, looking at me as if I were his next meal.

I exhale and utter, “Mr Hayes…what…” I can’t even form a sentence to ask him why he’s back here.

He approaches me slowly, like a wild beast stalking his prey. I should be telling him he’s not meant to be back here; I should be asking him nicely to get back to the bar; I should be worried that, at any minute, Mace could walk back here and demand to know what’s going on, but I can’t. I'm powerless to break free from the mesmerising effect he has whenever his eyes are on me.

Standing behind me, Mr Hayes is so close that I can feel my arse brushing against his thighs as he looms over me.

“Tilt your head backwards,” he commands, never averting his eyes from mine. I frown, but with a single raised eyebrow, he communicates a clear message: don't question me. Maybe it'sbecause he was my teacher for years, but I trust him, so I tilt my head back until I'm staring at the ceiling.

His lips ghost the shell of my ear. “Open your mouth.” I do as I’m told, but my pounding heart betrays me as my breathing becomes a lot more rapid. There is no doubt that he knows the effect he has on me. I remain silent, mouth open, chest heaving, waiting for this next move.

“I just wanted you to have a drink with me, Angel,” he softly murmurs in my ear. He moves and suddenly the glass of JD and minimal coke I prepared for him hovers above my face. He tilts it and the ice-cold liquid hits my tongue.

“Swallow.” Drinking without choking is a challenge because of the angle of my head, but I manage it. However, some of the liquid escapes my mouth and runs down my neck. The glass disappears, and then I feel him. He trails his lips and tongue along my neck. I can't help my gasp as the sensation sends a signal straight to my core. Thoughts of his mouth in other places consume me, intensifying the ache between my thighs. He brings his lips back to my ear.

“You make it taste so much better.”

Chapter ten

Carter

Throughout the day, I observed her flirting with that jerk who questioned if I was her uncle. I came to this place because of her. Seeing her was all I wanted. If I couldn't read her like a book, I might have thought she wasn't interested, but that wasn't the case. My presence makes her feel intimidated. I realised I had to be the one to make the first move, but as I approached the bar, I saw that skinny guy with her in his arms. Rage and jealousy swarmed me. It made me want to bend her over the bar and show everyone who she belongs to.

I wanted to ask her about her Christmas and what she had planned after the pub closed tonight, but seeing her withhimmade me reconsider. She could dance around with him, but she couldn't even socialise over a drink with her ex-English teacher. So here I am, making her. The taste of the JD I licked from her neck lingers on my tongue. My dick throbs from finally getting this close to her, tasting her, although it’s not really how I want to be tasting her.

“Mr Hayes,” she moans. The way she addresses me as Mr Hayes makes me intensely fucking hard. I had dreams of hermoaning ‘Mr Hayes’, but my dreams were no match to the way it sounds. I now crave hearing it over and over.

“Angel, I need you,” I whisper into her ear. I’m not holding it back anymore; she has to know how much I crave her. Spinning her around, I place the now empty glass on the table. “I need you now.” I don’t even give her a second to react. I grasp her cheeks and press my lips to hers. She responds by raking her fingers through my hair, tugging so hard that my eyes water. Our tongues intertwine as she moans and presses herself against me, causing me to grip her arse cheeks and squeeze them.

“Angel,” I growl against her lips as she continues to rub against me, making me feel like I'm about to explode.

She pulls away, looking up at me with hooded eyes that are irresistibly sexy. “Mr Hayes,” she moans.

“Where’s your room?” I refuse to wait any longer. I need Angel O’Sullivan, and I need her now. There's a moment of realisation in her expression as my words sink in.

“I—uh.” Her face and her cheeks flame red, followed by a clear look of fear dancing in her eyes.

“Angel, if you don’t want this, you just have to say,” I assure her.

“No, no. I do. I have wanted this for so long. I swear, Mr Hayes. I just need to get back to work. It’s too busy out there for me to just vanish and leave them short-staffed.” Suddenly, her face falls as if it dawned on her what she’s just said.

“Is this something you've been wanting for a long time?” I playfully tease while playing with the loose strand of hair hanging loose from her ponytail. I didn't think her cheeks could become more flushed, yet they do. She lowers her head, but I gently lift her chin with my finger, noticing her eyes are shut.

“Open your eyes, Angel.” I lower my voice and gently press my lips to her left cheek. “I thought about you more than I’d care to admit” Her body tenses and she inhales sharply. I move andpress my lips against her right cheek. “I’ve imagined you on your knees for me.” She gasps, her breaths becoming faster and more uneven. I gently kiss her on the forehead. “I daydreamed about your plump lips on my cock, as you satisfy me.”

A moan escapes her lips and I need to taste her again, so I press my mouth to hers, running my tongue along her lips coaxing her to open for me and when she does, my tongue moves against hers, intertwining as they dance around each other. I can’t get enough of her and now I have her like this, there’s no way I can let her go. Images of her flash through my mind that I conjured through my fantasies. I need her. Breaking our connection, I pull back slightly as her desire stares back at me with her blown wide eyes. “And I thought about you screaming ‘Mr Hayes’ when I bury myself deep in that tight, wet pussy. Now text Mace and tell her you’re not feeling well and have gone to lie down,” I grit out.

Angel nods eagerly and quickly retrieves her phone from her bra. “It was quietening down out there; they will be fine,” I reassure her. As she types, I observe her biting her lip and hesitating. “Where’s your room?” I ask again. When she gestures towards the door, I seize her hand and walk towards it. Without hesitation, she lets me take control and guide us. Angel moves in front of me, ascending the stairs. I observe the way her hips sway and notice the little elf dress riding up and becoming shorter. She opens the door to her flat and we go inside.

“No lock?” I question as I close the door behind me. Her response is a nod.

“We don't bother locking it when we're downstairs,” she explains, heading towards what must be her room. Walking by another door, I swiftly glance inside. Covered in baubles and lights, a colossal pink tree fills their living room. I smirk because Angel must detest it.

“Someone could sneak up here unnoticed. You should keep it locked,” I suggest. Turning towards me, her eyes widen as if she’s been reprimanded by her father, and then she acknowledges with a nod.

“Okay.” Her submission fills me with joy and makes my heart swell. I'm a fan of it. I wonder what else I could ask her to do.

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