Christmas With Kris Kringle

Chapter 10

Entering a code into the elevator keypad, the doors closed and we ascended to the top floor. I glanced at Belen whose eyes grew wider the higher the floor numbers climbed until it stopped at floor P, which opened directly into my apartment.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” My stomach was clenched in knots. I didn’t invite many women to my place, mainly to avoid the very look written all over her face. Her mouth agape, eyes full, trying to process the scene.

“Lucy, you’ve got some ‘splaining to do,” she half joked.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I love that show. My dad loved Lucille Ball. I think it reminded him of his mother who introduced him to the show and he in turn introduced the show to his kids.”

“You can’t go wrong with I Love Lucy . She was comedic gold.” Belen untied her scarf, pulling it from her neck. “But seriously, what … and I can’t emphasize this enough … the fuck?”

“It really looks bigger than it is.” It was technically a penthouse suite, but that was only because it was on the top floor with a wrap around balcony.

“Okay, that could be true if it was just this.” She waved to the main living quarters. “But then there’s that.” Belen pointed to a huge hole in the wall partially covered by thick clear plastic that looked into the apartment next door.

“That’s just some renovations.”

“So what, you just cosplay as a mall Santa in your free time, but live in a place that could be featured in architectural weekly?”

“No, I work as a mall Santa.”

Belen gasped. I don’t think her jaw had rehinged since we entered. “You clearly don’t need the income.”

“I’m not doing it for the money.”

“Right … you’re in the midst of a micro retirement. Taking time to experience life.” She picked up a picture of me and tech billionaire Miles Graves. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re a prince from a wealthy country who’s come to the states looking for a bride?”

“Umm … if you replace a wealthy prince with an app developer and a bride with a potential girlfriend, then maybe.” I took the opportunity to lighten the mood singing “She’s Your Queen to Be” from Coming To America and just like the actor, my tone was off-key and pitchy.

“You might want to add singing lessons to your micro retirement bucket list.”

“Noted.”

“So you’re a tech mogul who got tired of hanging out with the rich and famous and decided to slum it as a regular person? Although for the record, this house doesn’t give regular person vibes.

“I’m not a tech mogul. I’m an app developer who sold a word puzzle game for a few bucks. I’m not filthy rich.”

She thrust her gaze around the apartment, her internal bullshit meter analyzing my claims.

Removing my beanie, I said, “We should eat. I had the chef?—”

“You have a chef?” From her tone, you would think I’d told her I enjoyed kicking kittens for fun.

“I don’t have a chef. I hired someone to cook tonight because I suck at it and I really want you to enjoy yourself, and giving you the bubble guts would not make for a good first date.”

Belen surrendered her arms in the air. “Kris this is a lot. You don’t think this is a lot? You present yourself as this every day man but come to find out you’re a fucking one percenter.”

“I’m a regular guy.”

“I could fit my apartment into your living room.” She spun in a small circle.

“No you could not. I’ve seen your place.”

“Yeah, and it’s minuscule in comparison.”

“Don’t do this.”

“What?”

“Your body language changed the minute you walked through the door.”

“Elevator.”

“What?”

“It was an elevator because you live in the penthouse suite.”

My shoulders slumped in defeat. “Do you wanna leave?”

Her arms were firmly planted across her chest. She still wore her coat, never bothering to take it off and settle in. Of course she wanted to leave. Maybe she felt lied to, but who brings up net worth before the first date and why does it even matter? Money or the lack of money didn’t change who I was. I was the same guy who allowed kids to hustle me for gifts at the mall.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just head straight. It’s the second door on the left in the hall.”

“If I get lost I’ll just call your cell,” she shouted over her shoulder.

“Ah, very funny,” I said, as she disappeared down the hall.

You’d think a penthouse would be a positive thing, but the opposite tended to be true. Because I didn’t drive a Porsche or rock a diamond studded watch, when my wealth, and I use that word loosely, was revealed, people had a hard time wrapping their heads around it. I’d been fortunate to sell a few apps for a nice bit of cash, but it wasn’t like I never had to work again. Then there was the flipside, women who found out I had some money and then all of a sudden, I’m no longer some corny dude and they find me extremely attractive. My life was the definition of a double-edged sword.

Belen returned and she stole a quick glance before positioning herself closer to the exit. “Look Kris, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not interested in being a checkmark on your bucket list.”

“Do you actually think I sat down and created a list that included sleep with an event coordinator? Bonus points if she works at the third largest mall in Minnesota?”

Belen pulled her face in a way that let me know I was about to get cussed out. “We are the second largest mall in Minnesota. And you sir, aren’t exactly a prize. You’re underemployed?—”

“Wow.”

“You’re obnoxiously tall. I’ve had a crook in my neck since meeting you. And your ho, ho, ho could use work.”

My chest puffed as I slurped in air. “Take that back.”

“Nope.”

Inching closer, I planted my feet. “Your Christmas wonderland looks like Santa ate bad fish and defecated rainbows and ribbons all over everything.”

She pinched her fingers together, pointing them dangerously close to my face. “You also have really bad taste.”

This woman was beautiful when she was angry. Her nostrils flared and her eyes appeared backlit with fire. The tenor of her voice which was normally light, as if it floated on air was suddenly intense and raspy.

“Can I kiss you now?” I asked.

“Please.”

I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck pulling her closer to me. When her warm lips pressed against mine, it was like beast mode was activated. All the thoughts I’d been keeping at bay the entire night flooding to the surface like I was a passenger on a sinking ship.

Belen’s arms draped over my shoulders, her hands rubbing and scratching my head. You know that satisfying sensation that travels through your entire body as hands other than your own massage your scalp. Their nails hitting the right spot with each pass. Belen was doing that to me right now, but she was also swirling her tongue in my mouth which took everything to a whole other level.

My hands fumbled with the zipper of her coat, anxious to free her of the puffy cream jacket so I could press her body closer to mine. With her coat on the floor, I pushed her hips into my body, sliding my hand to her ass. Still too many clothes. Belen helped me remove her boots and jeans.

Pushing her onto the extra wide windowsill, I used my knee to part her legs. Sliding my tongue back into her mouth, I pressed her against the glass pane. I’d wanted to kiss her the moment I stepped off the elevator and saw her waiting for me. But I knew if I’d done that we would’ve never left the building. Not that jumping to the sex is ever a bad thing, but I wasn’t just here for the sex. I was here for this woman who was eagerly devouring my lips.

Running my hand down the side of her bare thigh, Belen’s breathing hitched. I kneaded her inner thigh, my hand slowly traveling upward until I found her center. Pressing my fingers to the front of her panties, an electric jolt surged through my veins when I found them wet to the touch. Belen responded softly seeping in her air and mine as her lips hovered over my mouth. I hooked my fingers in the side of her thong and on cue, she lifted her hips so they slid over her thick ass and thighs with ease.

My fingers moved over her slick and plump center once again. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, bewitched with thoughts of all the things I wanted to do to her. I traced my wet thumb over her opening, Belen’s fingernails burrowed into my arm with just enough pressure to make my dick come alive.

I gently guided my middle finger inside, never taking my eyes off her face. The best part of sex was always the reaction. And seeing her eyes flutter shut as her head lulled back was the perfect visual satisfaction. Her legs were acrobatic, contorted and sprawled wide so I had full access to every silky crease and fold. Curling the tip of my finger while using my thumb to hit her clit, Belen cupped my face with her hands plunging her tongue into my mouth. I returned her kisses, twirling my tongue in and out of her mouth, wanting to fuck ever orifice.

Inserting another finger, I felt the weight of her body shiver against mine. Her hips starting to work over my fingers, chasing a release. With my lips against the side of her face, I whispered. “You are so fucking sexy.”

Belen’s eyes were clouded and distant, and all she could offer in response was a breathy gasp. As she got closer to orgasm, Belen proceeded to say the freak nastiest shit anyone has ever said to me. Including declarations that the pussy was mine and claiming I was the best Santa ever. At one point I had to sing “Feliz Navidad” in my head so I wouldn’t come in my jeans.

I could tell she was close because she was only speaking incoherent sentences. “Fuck … yes … like that … all of that.”

With each finger twist, slide, and flick, I did my best to give her the focused, deliberate, and intense attention her body was craving. Sliding my free hand under her T-shirt, I fondled her perky C cups through her bra, pinching her rock-hard nipples. I pressed my face against hers, listening to her erratic breathing and airy voice saying my name so soft I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t so close.

“Right there, please just like that,” she begged.

I gave her what she asked for, rhythmically hitting her clit with my sticky thumb while rocking my fingers in and out until her whole body shook and shuddered uncontrollably.

Belen melted, she literally slid from the windowsill, coming to rest on the cold cement floor. Her body occasionally stirring like she was experiencing aftershocks.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute.” She smiled up at me.

Heading to the kitchen, I washed my hands before pouring a glass of water, returning to her side, I handed it to her. She eagerly drank big gulps, spilling some down her oversized mint colored T-shirt. I kneeled next to her like an attentive servant, just waiting for the chance to kiss her again.

Belen let out a long, satisfied sigh. “I’m starving. Can you fix that?”

I immediately tugged at my belt buckle, ready to fill her up. “Yes, I can handle that.”

She raised a hand, stopping me. “I meant food. If I’m gonna make it through this night, I need food.”

“Oh, yeah sure … food. I can also handle that.” Embarrassment burned up my neck.

“Who doesn’t love a multi-talented brother?”

With a deep breath, I savored her words. Grabbing hold of her hand, I helped Belen to her feet. “You’re gonna love dinner. It’s Italian. I flew the chef in from Italy,” I joked.

“See, I can’t tell if you’re joking or serious and I don’t like that.”

“I’ll never tell.” I kissed her forehead before leading her to the kitchen.