Father Christmas (Kringle & Co #4)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

T he snowflakes, which had been gently descending from the overcast sky all evening, began to swirl with renewed vigor, cloaking the world in a thickening veil of white. Noel squinted through the flurries, his breath misting before him as he took Mindy's hand, guiding her down the snow-coated sidewalk.

"Looks like we're in for a proper blizzard," he said, his voice warm against the cold air. "I think we should go to my place instead."

Noel knew where Mindy's apartment was. He had tried to not memorize it when he'd looked at her application, but it was still on his mind. It wasn't in a bad neighborhood, per se. Neither was it in the best neighborhood. More importantly, it wouldn't have the amenities his condo had.

"Lead the way, Santa," Mindy quipped, squeezing his hand with a trust that stirred something deep within him.

They trudged through the deepening snow, their laughter mingling with the muffled sounds of the city on pause. When they finally reached his building, Noel fumbled with his keys, his fingers numb but his heart thumping with anticipation. He ushered Mindy inside, shaking off the chill as the door closed behind them.

"Cozy," Mindy observed, her eyes darting curiously across the room. She began peeling off her crimson coat, revealing the elf costume beneath.

Noel watched, captivated by the simple act of her undressing in his domain. Each article removed—a glove, a scarf—felt like a layer of formality falling away, leaving raw, undeniable attraction in its wake. He savored the sight of her making herself at home amidst his collection of rare ornaments and framed memories.

"Need a hand with those boots?" Noel offered, a teasing glint in his blue eyes.

Mindy balanced on one leg as she kicked off her footwear with a grace that belied the treacherous weather outside. Then she padded around on bare feet. She filled his living space with her vibrancy. It was as if she belonged among the twinkling lights and evergreen scents—a bright, spirited addition to his carefully curated life.

Noel's fingers deftly struck a match, the tiny flare of light illuminating his rugged features before he touched it to the kindling. The fire caught quickly, eager flames lapping at the wood, and soon a comfortable blaze crackled in the fireplace. He glanced back at Mindy, her bright green eyes reflecting the dance of the flames, and felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low, the corners of his mouth tilting into a smile as he watched the snowflakes continue to fall outside the window.

"Much," she replied, stepping closer to the hearth. A rosy glow from the fire kissed her cheeks, giving her an ethereal quality that was impossible for Noel to ignore.

The embers popped in the fireplace, the only sound in the room aside from the shared rhythm of their breathing. This was the kind of magic that couldn't be bottled or sold, a kind of enchantment that even Santa couldn't conjure.

It was real, it was raw, and on this snowy December eve, it was theirs to explore.

He wasn't sure who reached for whom, but in the space of the fire sparking, they were flush against one another. No preamble. No pretense.

Noel wanted Mindy.

Mindy wanted him right back.

Her hands slid beneath his shirt to explore the territory beyond. Noel felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him as her palm grazed his skin, igniting a fire far more intense than the one crackling in the hearth nearby.

Her touch sparked an answering hunger within him—urgent, insistent. His own hands sought her out, slipping past the barrier of fabric to find the warmth of her skin. Her pulse thrummed beneath his fingertips, a syncopated rhythm that matched the sudden racing of his own heart.

"God, your heartbeat..." Noel's voice was low and heavy with desire as he felt the rapid drumming against his palm. It was a wild thing, untamed and honest in its tempo.

"Yours isn't exactly calm," Mindy pointed out, her breath catching as his hands moved with purposeful intent across her back, drawing her closer until there was no space left for pretense or idle flirtation.

There was no mistaking it now; the crackle of the fire paled in comparison to the blaze they were stoking between them, each touch a spark, each look a flame. And as the snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the world in silent white, inside the condo, the night promised to burn bright with passion.

The kiss fractured, leaving them gasping for air, their breaths interwoven like the Christmas garlands strung up around Noel's living room. Their eyes met and held a silent conversation in the depths of their gaze that spoke of raw desire and the promise of more to come.

"I'm taking charge now," Noel said, his voice a low growl that rumbled through the space between them.

Mindy's response was a gulp. "Okay."

With a confident tug, Noel led Mindy by the hand toward the sanctuary of his bedroom. Once inside, he eased Mindy out of the elf costume. He was almost sad to see it go, but he needed to see her in the flesh. And he'd promised an unwrapping. It wasn't just clothes they were shedding; it was reservations, uncertainties, the layers that usually kept people apart.

Noel drank in the sight of her. She was a vibrant piece of creation, all rosy cheeks and bright-eyed wonder. Mindy was a vision of passion and beauty that felt right in every conceivable way.

His fingers trembled with a singular anticipation as he reached for the clasp of Mindy's bra. The delicate sound it made as it unhooked was like a whisper of sleigh bells in the silence of the room, a promise of the joy to come. He watched, enchanted, as the straps slid down her arms, revealing skin as smooth and inviting as fresh snowfall.

"Careful, Santa," she teased, a playful spark in her eyes. "This is some delicate tinsel you're unwrapping."

Noel chuckled. She was going to be a joy to bed. He couldn't wait to make her voice sing out in passion-filled carols.

With a gentleness that belied his eagerness, he removed her bra entirely, allowing it to join the discarded skirt on the floor. Her breasts were bared to him now, and he couldn't resist bending to kiss each one, feeling her sharp intake of breath as his beard brushed against her sensitive skin.

Her panties were next, a festive red that made him think of holly berries nestled among verdant leaves. He hooked his thumbs into the sides and eased them down her legs, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Stand up for me, love," he instructed softly, and she complied, rising like a flame herself. He ensured that the last garment joined the rest on the floor before straightening to his full height, looking down at her, illuminated by the soft glow of the bedroom lamp.

"You outshine even the star atop the grandest tree, Mindy."

Another of those blushes bloomed across her cheeks, more vibrant than any ribbon or wrap. She stood there, unadorned and exquisite, a gift not just for the season but for all time.

"Come here," she whispered, reaching for him.

He obliged, climbing onto the bed with a reverence usually reserved for midnight mass. He kissed her then, starting at her forehead, then moving down to her eyelids, her nose, lingering on her lips that tasted of peppermint and promises.

Descending farther, he lavished attention on her neck, her collarbones, the valleys and peaks of her body that were his to explore. His lips continued their journey, worshiping her with every touch until he found himself at the altar of her thighs. There, he paused, breathing her in, the scent of her arousal mingling with the piney crispness still clinging to his skin.

"Tell me what you want for Christmas, Mindy."

"All I want… is you."