Page 5 of Stalker Santa

Even with the white Santa beard on, it's obvious he's attractive underneath it.

I continue fidgeting on the bench in anticipation of seeing him without the costume on. I laugh to myself. I never would have thought I'd be attracted to a man in a Santa costume, but here we are.

I make myself not look at him anymore as my heart flutters away and I count down the minutes until his shift is over.

Before I know it, I feel his presence towering over me, and I'm looking up at him. Those blue eyes take my breath away again, but this time, I take in the rest of him.

His hair is dark and waves back from his face. His jaw line is strong and lined with stubble without the Santa beard. He's ditched the red Santa costume and is wearing a black long-sleeved shirt. It's simple, but it clings to every ridge of muscle in his chest and arms, tapering down to a pair of low-slung jeans, and my God. The man ishuge.

I mean I already knew he was huge from sitting on his knee. I can still remember his thighs that felt like granite underneath my butt, and I blush again when I remember the feeling of his large erection pressed against the side of my calf.

My eyes flick to the bulge in his pants now, and I quickly look away, my cheeks flaming. Oh god, he looks hugetheretoo. His cock has got to be bigger than my forearm.

This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. The biggest guy I could have found is the one I choose to go on a coffee date with without knowing anything about him.

“I’m Alex.” His deep voice melts over me like warm chocolate as he introduces himself.

I stand, and my head doesn't even come midway up to his chest. I tilt my head and look up at him as he towers over me.

He doesn't even blink as I tell him my name. Instead, he just absorbs it in like he's taking in the rest of me. His eyes are studying me as if I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

I don't know how old he is, but I would place him in his mid-twenties. He's definitely older than me.

“You wanted me to wait for you,” I say awkwardly as if to explain my presence here. Damn it, he has me all tied up in knots.

He nods at me and gives a half smile. “And you did.” There’s a note of wonder in his voice as if I've just made his entire day.

I nod back at him and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, a nervous habit that I have.

His eyes home in on the motion and soften before he reaches out and tucks it back himself once it springs back out.

My breath catches at the feeling of his finger skating over the sensitive lobe of my ear. As he pulls his hand away, he lets histhumb trail over my jawline, his eyes never leaving mine as he does so. “So beautiful,” he murmurs.

I flush with pleasure at his praise. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I say breathlessly.

He gives me a crooked smile, and my heart does a somersault. I love that crooked smile.

“What do you say we get a cup of coffee to go and just go for a walk or something?” he suggests.

I nod dazedly and place my hands in his outstretched one.

Maybe it's foolish, but I know I would follow this man anywhere he leads.

I’m completely enchanted by him.

Four

Alex

Zoe is drinkingsome sort of gingerbread latte, and while I'm usually a dark Americano man, I'll do anything to feel closer to her, so I get the same. This sugary shit is normally way too sweet for my taste buds, but everything about Zoe is sweet, so I'm developing quite the sweet tooth.

We're walking hand in hand, and the feeling of her tiny palm clasps in mine has my heart pounding in my chest like a timid schoolboy. Her sweet cherry cola scent mixed with the cinnamon of the latte envelops me, and I know that this will always be my favorite scent until the end of time. I have a new affinity for cinnamon and cherry cola just because of her.

I'm asking her questions that I already know the answer to, but they’re ones I know are expected when you first meet someone.

I'm relieved when she relaxes in my presence and chatters away happily, telling me about her major, her best friend, herlife growing up. Most of this I already know, but it's entirely different hearing it come from her own lips.

She asks a few questions about me, and I answer them as quickly as possible before turning the conversation back to her. I'm not important. What I care about is her. I could listen to her talk all day.

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