Page 7 of Ms. Claus's List

When he finished, the elves cheered, whether in appreciation of his skills or just the fact he’d finished the corny song. Pleased with himself, the redheaded lute singer who yearned to plow my gateway stepped back.

Donna cleared her throat, after shooting me an apologetic look. She knew I hated singers and obviously hadn’t realized Sir Griffon would turn out to be a yodeling canary.

“Sir Erik,” Donna announced. “Please step forward and share your tokens of esteem.”

This tall, olive-skinned elf had poison green eyes, which sparkled like gemstones from the deepest treasure vaults of Hnitbjörg. I recognized him as the Dark Elf who had handed Nick the reins of the sleigh earlier. His smooth body did not have a hair in sight, other than the midnight black waves of the mane brushing his shoulders. I wondered if he had any body hair at all and my nipples tightened at the prospect of finding out. I glanced at my clipboard.

His cum tasted like chocolate.

Wasn’t that every girl’s favorite?

Damn, I loved being me.

“My Lady and Mistress,” Erik began. “May I approach?”

I gestured him forward. “By all means.”

“I have but one gift to offer and that is me,” he whispered in my ear, his voice sensual like vodka-spiked hot chocolate. I shivered from the heat of his breath on my neck and before I realized what had happened, he kissed me.

And not just any kiss. Erik tasted and explored my mouth, suckling on my lips and leaving me weak. Someone let out a few wolf whistles but Erik’s scent and taste intoxicated me. For a second, I swore maybe Ihadreached Valhalla.

He retreated, breaking the kiss but not moving far away. We still shared the same breath. I practically had to cross my eyes to look down at the glorious mouth that had just made love to mine.

“Well,” I said in a breathless pant, licking my lips. I blinked a few times and he straightened. Before I could focus my vision again, the smug bastard had already walked away, grinning at his success.

I couldn’t wait to wipe that smirk off his face. I had more than one use for a mouth like his. I’d bet Pip did, too. Blood still thundered in my ears in rhythm with some Christmas carol I couldn’t recognize—didn’t they all sound the same after a while?

Erik and Pip would be it. Why the hell did I even go through the motions, allowing Donna to announce the next contestant on my game ofThe Penis Is Right? I’d made my choices. And if Bachelor Number Four with his lame-ass poetry and Number Five with his bizarre and somewhat creepy sideshow contortion act were any indication, this thing needed to wrap up, and quickly.

Just when I was about to say, “I’m done, let’s commence with the fucking,” Donna nudged me in the side.

“What?” I hissed rather belligerently. My clock was ticking, and I had an itch that needed to be scratched.

Donna gave me a disapproving look and jerked her head to the man in front of me. The tall Ljósálfr regarded me with mild amusement, his eyes reflecting the gold highlights in those tresses. He’d tied back his long, watery-caramel-colored hair with a leather thong. He wore only dark blue silk pants, flowing loose and easy, revealing the bumpy presence of the sizable endowment in the front.

Hmmm, Daddy always did say patience was a virtue.

“What do we have here?” I drawled.

“A trick to entertain the Lady,” Hot Pants told me.

He proceeded to stick a shot glass in my cleavage—after asking permission, of course. I watched on as he filled it with a sweet, dark liqueur and a cherry. Smiling a saucy grin, he leaned closer, his hazel eyes never leaving mine, and his red lips opened. I held my breath as he reached the shot glass, his mouth wrapping around the rim expertly, damp lips skimming my décolletage. Grasping the rim with his lips, he threw his head back, downing the drink, not a dribble on his chin.

He removed the glass and chewed languidly, far longer than I thought he had to. Not that I was complaining or anything. He made chewing sexy. Next, he slowly stuck out his long pink Gene Simmons tongue to reveal the stem tied into a knot.

“Damn, I heard he was good with his tongue,” Donna whispered in my ear. “But...damn.”

My throat had gone dry, and I couldn’t speak.

The applause snapped me back. The Ljósálfr returned to the line of candidates, before I’d even gotten a chance to catch his name.

The last contestant would be Pip. Exceedingly curious what he would do, my heart raced. I hoped the kid didn’t disappoint.

“May I approach, Mistress?” he asked.

I vaguely nodded my approval. Wouldn’t do to let anyone know I’d already chosen him.

He leaned in close to my ear to whisper, “You should pick me because I will get Erik and him—” he flipped a thumb at the man in blue pants “—to do things that will blow your mind.”

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