Page 5 of Stalked By Santa

The question was directed at Barry, but it’s the first elf who answers. “Oh, he’s no Santa, darling. But don’t worry, you’re still in the running with the Man in Red—andhedoesn’t screw his elves.”

Withthatbizarre comment, she follows the blonde into the hall, the door slamming closed behind her. I’m on the verge of running after her and demanding an explanation when Barry brings me back to Earth—reminding me that I have bigger problems than crazy sluts in elf costumes.

“Jesus, Mads, couldn’t you have waited five more minutes before pulling your usual needy shit?”

I turn back to Barry, relieved to find that he’s put his boxers back on. “Umm, excuse me? I catch you cheating andI’mthe bad guy?”

Shaking his head, he grabs his pants. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you’re really going to try to take the moral high ground. You’re the last person who should kink shame.”

It’s clear by his smug expression that he expects this to end the conversation, but it’s more confusing than anything. He has no way of knowing what my kinks are. The only conversations we’ve had about sex were always about me wanting to wait…

I frown. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

“Drop the innocent good girl act, Mads,” he says, sneering as he pulls on the baggy red pants. “I’ve seen the depraved shit you write toSanta.”

TWO

NICK

Merryn taps a lacquerednail against the video feed. “See? I knew we shouldn’t interfere. Not that it's a huge loss. She wasn’t syndicate material, anyway.”

Ignoring the elf’s thinly veiled “I told you so,” I stare at the static-filled screen, willing it to come into sharper focus. But the flickering surveillance square refuses to remain stable—proving how badly I’ve fucked this up. This isn’t a run-of-the-mill glitch. The squares only become this unstable when we're about to lose a believer.

“Bloody hell.” I slam my fist down onto the open tray table. The tablet displaying the surveillance feeds jumps.

Misinterpreting my anger, my assistant continues. “Stop torturing yourself. What's done is done. In any event, she was unlikely to hang on much longer. We're still well within our quota of believers.”

“I don’t give a fuck about our goddamn believer quota!”

“Respectfully,sir, that’s the entire fucking problem,” Merryn retorts, voice acerbic. “You’ve had extra surveillance on this girl for the better part of three years. It’s a misuse of resources.”

I wince at the elf’s criticism, but I don’t contradict her. In truth, “surveillance” is too mild of a word for my behavior. My observations of Madelyn Marsden crossed the line into stalking a long time ago.

It’s sick, but I can’t help it. I’m obsessed with her. And I have been for three long years—ever since I read those goddamn letters…

Well, she’s consumed me. I’ve tracked her every move. I know when she's sleeping, and I know when she's awake. I don't have to check when she's been bad or good because my Maddie isalwaysgood.

Well, almost always. Because my little girl has a secret: her fantasies are utterly filthy. And not just filthy, but kinky as fuck, going by her letters. Such a strange mixture of naughty and nice. How could I resist discovering every last thing about her?

The sick truth is that I haven’t. When it comes to Madelyn Marsden, I’ve exhibited an appalling lack of restraint. Her surveillance feed is always open on at least one of my devices. I can't help it. She's my addiction.

It’s rare that I allow more than a few hours to pass where I'm not watching over her. So of course I knew when she was about to make a huge fucking mistake and give her innocence to a man who isn't worthy to lick her shoes.

Well, I simply couldn’t let that happen. Allowing them to get any closer would have ruined her life—hence Operation Honeypot. Everything in his file suggested that my plan would succeed at splitting them up. And technically, it did.

But the cost—Maddie's very belief in fucking Christmas—is unacceptable. And not just because her losing her belief is a goddamn crime. If she falls off the grid of believers, my access to her will be cut off.

That can't happen. So far, I’ve kept my distance, only watching my sexy girl from afar, honoring the letter of the Christmas Contract if not the spirit. But the thought of losing access entirely, of not knowing if she's in danger…

Sure, I could stalk her by more conventional means. But those don’t go far enough, don’t allow enough access. Already, I've saved her more times than she can ever know. And now my ability to continue to do so, to watch over her, to protect her, to keep her fuckingsafe, is in jeopardy.

I turn on the elf. “This is all your fault.”

Merryn raises an eyebrow. “Myfault? I was followingyourorders.”

“I told you to have Chrissy split them up, to lure him away, not to peg him in the ass in front of her!”

“Unlike you, I don’t micromanage my subordinates. Not that I can fault Chrissy for her efficiency.” She shrugs. “The operation was demanding too many man hours during our most critical quarter, and like me, she has other tasks on her plate. More important tasks, mind you, than catering to that little creep’s fetishes.”

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