Page 29 of His Christmas Temptation

As Abigail turned, Maddie’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my God. You look sensational.”

Unable to help herself, Abigail smiled. “This outfit’s my new favorite.” Tonight, she’d opted for steampunk, and she’d complemented her black overbust corset with a bustled purple-brocade skirt that trailed behind her. The front, however, was short, stopping at her upper thigh. It covered what it needed to, but not much more. She’d completed her look with a gadget-laden hat and Victorian style boots.

“You make me want to buy one.”

“I’ll give you the friends-and-family discount.”

They exchanged hugs before Maddie hurried off, leaving Abigail alone again.

Soon after, members began to arrive. Some were in clothing they might choose for a nice dinner, while others selected festive garb. Most, however, had opted for fetish gear.

People watching was always her favorite part of attending events at the Quarter.

From where she was positioned, she had a good view of the frosted-glass door that separated the dungeon from the reception area. For now, at least, she could see everyone, including Santa.

In shock, she blinked.

Evan Frost was playing the Jolly One?

Surely there wasn’t a worse choice. Not only was he her friend’s boss, but she heard stories at least once of week of the numerous ways he was an asshole. He was as demanding as he was uncompromising. Kaylee almost always worked twelve-hour days, including Saturdays. If she was lucky, her phone didn’t ring on Sunday with one of his summons.

They sometimes joked that he was well named. Frost wasn’t just his last name; it also described his personality. Having him play Saint Nick must have been Mistress Aviana’s idea of a hearty holiday joke.

Even though she was far from his biggest fan, Abigail had to admit to sneaking a peek at his six-pack abs. This Santa didn’t have a great big belly. Or a shirt on for that matter.

A couple of young women entered the booth, and Abigail went to help them. Before long, she was swept away, chatting, taking measurements, and helping them find the correct sizes.

Their happiness as she tied laces made her nervousness vanish.

Maybe because of the festive atmosphere and because they knew this wasn’t Abigail’s usual job, people were friendly and didn’t mind waiting for her to help them.

The first sales were tricky as she figured out how to process the transactions. But by nine o’clock, she had it down to a science.

Another couple arrived, and she smiled as she turned to help them.

“My sub has been looking for a corset, and I’d like to buy her one for Christmas.”

“Fabulous. Any idea what you’re looking for? Overbust? Under?” Abigail pointed out examples of their displayed bustiers and also showed them several waspies.

The sub looked to her Dominant for guidance.

He seemed to know exactly what he wanted. “Underbust. Elegant. Something she can wear over a dress or blouse with a pair of jeans. But when we’re in private, the piece will leave her breasts bare.”

The submissive sucked in a tiny breath.

For a moment, Abigail was lost in her own thoughts. How long had it been since she had a Dominant who shopped for her and erotically teased her?

More years than she could count.

On occasion, she scened with Dominants here at the club. Yet she would never consider playing with the same man twice, and she’d refused a couple of offers to date. She missed having an intimate connection with a Dominant but not enough to risk offering her heart and soul a second time.

Realizing the couple was looking at her, she blinked to refocus. “Black is always a good choice. Elegant, as you say. Chic. Goes with anything.”

“May I try one?”

“Absolutely.” Abigail took the woman’s measurements, then pulled out a couple of choices.

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