Page 16 of Step-Santa

Her hands rest on her hips, the protrusion of her bones making me feel weak as I reach down and adjust my hard-on.

“What do you want, Santa?” She flutters her dark eyelashes around those honey-colored eyes, making me clench my fists to keep from deep-dicking her right here in the hallway where the scent of roast beef and gingerbread wafts in the air from the kitchen.

I lean down, taking her pulse with my palm, fingers slipping around that delicate neck again, letting her know I control her every breath.

“I have everything I want, but I’m going to show you what Ineedlater. But, it’s our secret, you understand that, right? No telling.”

She nods, swallowing as she fusses with her tutu, making me want to dive between her legs and feel all that tulle scratching at the sides of my face as I eat out her barely legal cunt and swallow down her sugar and spice nectar.

Her eyes darken and her body seems to shrink. “Lucy will hate me forever if she finds out.”

She offers a tight smile, but there is such sadness in her eyes. My self-hatred burns me from the inside out.

“Lala…” I use her pet name from Mama. “I know this is wrong. I’m wrong. I’m an ugly man, your grandfather. Not who you should want.” I’m twisted with unfamiliar doubt and insecurity. Things I’ve never felt before. “You are young, sweet, and more beautiful than any masterpiece or perfect rose. If I were a stronger man, I would end this now.”

“No!” She yelps, pushing onto her toes again, hands on my chest, clutching at my shirt, her sorrow echoing down the hall as I hear Mama clanking around in the kitchen. “Please, don’t even say that.”

“But you…” I brush my knuckles down her throat, her chest, and flatten my palm over her heart. Grinding my teeth, I point at myself. “And me.”

Sadness hollows her features as I note the ripples of her breastbone under her skin. I vow to let her know, for the rest of her life, she is beautiful and worthy and loved without starving herself for some dance or some standard of ballet beauty.

“Don’t do this, Papa. Don’t push me away, not now, not after what I gave you. My first kiss, my first touch, my first—”

I press my fingers to her lips. If she says more, I’ll drag her to my room and our secret will bring down our house by morning as I fuck her straight through the bed, then through the wall and into the swirling snow outside.

“I will never hurt you,” I say, knowing it could be the biggest lie of my life. “Now.” I warm her forehead with my lips, devouring her scent as my mouth waters, my longing to know the flavor of her pink petals pushing me to the edge of reason. “Go, get ready for dinner. Do not be late.”

Lucy comes turning around the corner, eyes down on a tablet as I step back, leaving Carina unsteady as she falls against the wall with a yelp.

It’s rare for Carina to be in this hallway near my ‘workshop’ as I call it. It’s my command center really, where I still pull the strings and run the many aspects of my underworld dealings in Chicago and across the country.

But she thinks it’s just my office where I focus on my investments. Clear my head. My testosterone space as she calls it.

Lucy’s eyes do not hide her surprise to find us standing here together.

“What’s going on?” Her lids fall, narrowing her gaze, inspecting us both as she shifts, still in her leotard as well, but covered with her usual gray sweatshirt and black warm-up pants.

“Nothing,” Carina answers, righting herself on a shift of her hips, darting her eyes to me, shrugging. “Maybe some Christmas surprise plans. None of your business.”

Lucy isn’t buying it, which doesn’t surprise me. She’s got my intuition; she misses very little and a blade lances my heart, knowing I will need to be more careful. Keep my feelings for Carina on ice and our new dynamic in deep-fake level cover.

“I was asking Papa about something. For you. So, yeah.” Carina cocks her hip and crosses her arms, flinging her head like she’s flipping her hair back which does nothing since it is held on top of her head in a tight bun.

She’s an exceptional dancer but a terrible actress.

“Whatever.” Lucy shakes her head, her eyes fluttering dismissively as she turns back toward the kitchen, shooting me one last glance as a growl rumbles in my chest, knowing we all have secrets from each other.

“She’ll hate us both,” Carina whispers, pulling away from my hand as I trace my fingers in apology along her collarbone.

Then she skips back down the hall, taking part of me with her.

“I will make it right,” I promise to no one.

The devil has dealt me an impossible hand.

Too bad for him, I love a challenge.

CHAPTER5

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