Page 2 of The Santa Rules
“Don’t worry, he’s not yours.”
Brian chuckles. “Clearly.” He glances around the room,almost as if he expects my kid to pop out and scare him. “Look…”
I push him back on the bed before he can shut this down. “No,youlook. I need this. I need to feel the weight of a man on my body while he plows me from behind because that’s not something I can easily recreate with my vibrator. Okay, Brady?”
“It’s Brandon.”
“I don’t care.” I work at the buttons on his jeans, pulling them open. “I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but we both know what this is. One night. I’m not asking you to be a stepdad. I just want to fuck, and I don’t want my kid to know you’re here.”
A dull pain throbs in my core, but I ignore it, grabbing his erection through his boxers. “Fuck,” he groans, his head dropping back on the bed. “I don’t have any condoms.”
Is he for real? “We met on DTF, Bradley?—”
“Brandon.”
“Whatever. The app is called Down to Fuck. How did you not come prepared?”
“Uhhh…I’m clean?” He offers the last part like it’s a question he hopes I have the answer to instead of a statement that inspires confidence.
“Cool. Need help putting this on, Brayden?” I retort, tossing a condom at him that I found in my nightstand.
“Brandon!” he says, as I reach for the waistband of his jeans. That dull throb in my core builds into something more as he continues. “You’re really hot, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m going to take a raincheck.” He hops up off the bed and refastens his pants.
“I think that’s—AHHHHH,” I groan as a sudden sharp, stabbing pain hits my abdomen and I double over.
“Uhhh, are you okay?”
“No” is all I manage to squeak out as I clutch at my side.
Spots dot my vision as I collapse on the floor. I can hearBenton talking, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. It sounds like he’s in a tin can really far away. Holy shit, am I dying?
“Uhhh, she’s like in her thirties, I think?” I hear him walk out of the room. “Let me look. I don’t remember the address.”
The next thing I know, I’m on my back with a bright light shining in my eyes.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?”
My eyes blink rapidly at a man I don’t know in my room. “Yeah,” I croak out, clutching at my side. The pain is overwhelming. Is it my appendix? A kidney stone? Fate stepping in to save me from a bad lay?
“My name is Hardy. Your husband called 911. We’re here to help.”
“Not her husband. I’m going to take off. Looks like you guys have this covered,” the coward calls as I hear him descend the stairs.
“Assho—” I start before another wave of stabbing pain sears my abdomen. “Fuck.”
“Ma’am, can you tell us what’s going on?”
“Stabbing pains. Down here.” I gesture to the area above my pubic bone.
“Does it hurt anywhere else? Any other symptoms?”
“Oh God, I’m gonna throw up,” I wail as I curl onto my side, a wave of sweat beading down my face.
A blue vomit bag is placed close to my mouth as a hand soothes circles on my back.
Please don’t let me vomit in front of a stranger.
Is this food poisoning? I wrack my brain trying to think of everything I ate today. It was mostly candy. Did I finally find the piece of candy our parents warned us about? The one laced with drugs that we were always told to check for? Is this how I’m going to die? Taken out by poisoned candy?
