Page 24 of Stalked By Santa

“That you’re the ideal Mrs. Claus?” Holding me tighter, he nibbles on my earlobe. “Of course she fucking meant it. You’re practically perfect in every way.”

The layers of clothing between us do nothing to hide his arousal. Through the soft silk of my dress and the thicker material of his pants, I can feel the hard outline of him pressing up against me.

But determined not to be distracted by the promise of more sex, I shake my head. “No, the part about ‘silencing’me if Idon’tmarry you.”

“You’re fucking marrying me,” he growls. “That’s no longer up for discussion.”

Twisting around in his arms, I hold his gaze, taken aback by the vulnerability I find there. For the first time, it hits me—how much power I have over this big, strong man. It’s intoxicating, but a little scary, too. Suddenly, the existence of the Mrs. Clause makes perfect sense, especially given what Nick shared last night about what his job demands.

“Of course I’m marrying you, Santa.” I stroke the side of his face, loving the way his beard feels beneath my hand. “But I think it’s time for you to explain exactly what I’m getting myself into with this syndicate business. Do elves really murder people?”

At this, he chuckles. “Don’t worry, angel. She was just fucking with you. The syndicate only eliminates those on the naughty list.”

Before I can formulate a reply, he adjusts our positions and reaches into his pocket. The next thing I know, he’s sliding the ring back onto my finger with a satisfied smirk.

Glancing down at the ring, I can’t help but smile, too. This all still feels so surreal, but surreal in agoodway. It’s as if every fantasy I ever had has suddenly come true.

No, I still don’t know everything about how the syndicate operates, but I’m not worried—not when I have Nick by my side. Because ever since I was a little girl, there’s been one fact that I’ve always known and never once doubted: Nothing bad can happen to you when you’re sitting on Santa’s lap.

EPILOGUE

NICK

When the sleightouches down in Calgary, I reluctantly disentangle myself from my wife’s embrace. While Maddie would never complain about my job, I can sense her disappointment. The last several stops took longer than planned, meaning that it’s now technically Christmas day. Our wedding anniversary.

Because once Merryn explained the Mrs. Clause, I insisted on making it official that same day. What can I say? Given how much Christmas means to Maddie, it just seemed right.

Unfortunately, I failed to consider that it would mean that our anniversary would always fall on the one day that it’s impossible for me to take off work. As she does every year, Maddie’s making a valiant attempt at hiding her sadness, but over the last five years, the bond between us has only gotten stronger.

My angel can’t conceal anything from me.

“This is the last stop, love,” I promise, stealing one more kiss before exiting the sleigh.

And it really is the last stop—ever. I haven’t told Maddie yet. I’ve been saving the announcement for the party tonight. But I warned the board of directors eleven months ago that this would be the final time I donned the red suit.

Once the sleigh door has closed, I rap sharply on the window of the cockpit. A moment later, the glass slides down and Dasher passes me my Glock.

Before Maddie, I kept my gun rack in the rear of the sleigh. But ever since she’s started traveling with me—which has been every single Christmas Eve since that first one—I’ve stowed it in the cockpit.

Oh, my angel isn’t dumb. She’s not completely naive and is aware of some of the less savory aspects of my job. But I’ve tried to shield her from the worst of it.

Impatient to return to my wife, I carry out my final hit quickly and efficiently. It still takes longer than I’d like, however, particularly without an elf to assist with the coverup.

But even though Merryn and Maddie have become great friends, I prefer the intimacy of it being just me and my wife in the rear of the sleigh. So I convinced the board that it was more efficient to let Merryn have her own sleigh and manage a second team. But the truth is that it’s simply too damn difficult for me to keep my hands off Maddie.

When I return to the roof, I’m eager to resume where we left off. You’d think after so many years, my desire would have abated somewhat. But it’s been exactly the opposite.

I can’t get enough of my wife.

Normally, she’s as insatiable as me. But when I slip back into the sleigh, the burst of cold air as the door opens doesn’t disturb her slumber.

I frown. Yes, it’s been a long night. But it’s not like her to fall asleep when I’m still not done with her—and I fully intended for my wife to have several more orgasms before the sleigh touched down at the North Pole.

Although admittedly, workhaskept her pretty busy lately. My Maddie always had a weakness for charitable causes, but becoming Mrs. Claus seems to have amplified her selflessness. Gently, I drape a blanket over her, deciding that she’s earned her sleep.

The work she’s been doing with our foundation is truly inspiring. I wish that I could claim the children’s charity as my own idea, but it was all Maddie. She needed something to pour her energy into other than our relationship. And since we still haven’t had children…

The guilt of that weighs on me every day. Because I know how much shewantschildren, and she’ll make a damn fine mother. And it’s not like I don’t want that, too. I want nothing more than to create a family with the most amazing woman on the planet.

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