Ho Ho Homicidal Maniac (Murder and Mistletoe #2)

Chapter 21

Blake

I got what I wanted.

So why am I not happy?

According to Nico’s map app, we should reach Aspen after driving for about thirty hours, which is a lot, but we can’t risk taking the plane. Problem is, I don’t drive, and Nico needs to rest and sleep, which made us settle on a three-day travel plan, which will go to shit if anything goes wrong on the way. My brother’s organizing a big party for all his friends on Saturday, and since all attendees are required to wear masks, there won’t be a better chance for us to reach him.

But it’s the sexy millionaires’ kind of Christmas party, so apart from masks, we need clothes that look hot and glamorous. At least when you squint, because that’s the best we’ll probably get at Corn View Mall, Nebraska. It’s also a good place to stock up on bullets and snacks filled with high-fructose corn syrup.

Two days into our trip, the silence between me and Nico is deafening, so for once I don’t mind loud Christmas tunes and children screaming about wanting to see Santa in his grotto.

As if to signify how serious he is about our task, Nico’s dressed mostly in black, apart from his hat and jacket. Not a festive T-shirt in sight, no reindeer-patterned sweater, and no smile.

Two can play this game. So I refused to show him what clothes I chose in the only occasion wear store we found. I wasn’t being unfair about the nature of our relationship. The truth is that, unlike Nico, I am a realist, and see things for what they are. We might share some interests, and we might feel great in each other’s company in this honeymoon phase when all faults can be ignored and the sex is always great, but he and I have no future.

Carl’s betrayal broke something in me, and whenever I think about growing closer to anyone, all I see are deep shadows waiting to creep out and choke me when I least expect it. I need to learn how to live independently, but that doesn’t change the fact that I miss Nico’s dumb jokes or his touch. I know he’s withdrawn his attention to get back at me for what he surely perceives as rejection, but I’m not a child anymore and will not acknowledge how stupidly he’s behaving.

Though I am frustrated that he didn’t let me see the outfit he chose either. Because what if he picked out something garish, and we won’t be able to blend in at Carl’s party? For all I know, Nico could have bought a suit with a snowman pattern all over it, or something. Or I’m just being petty about it because I crave to see him in something hot and refined. As he pointed out, I do deceive myself sometimes, and pretending I don’t would only be another lie.

I guess I also miss how excitable he can be. If we weren’t stuck in this sour mood, I’m sure he would be chattering about the decorations in the mall, putting tinsel in my hair, making me try the local donuts with the misshapen antlers made of dough, or showing off the tie he’s bought.

And then I think of his helpless declaration of love for me in front of a man about to die, and my heart goes all mushy like a marshmallow in hot chocolate. But I wasn’t lying. We’ve known each other for two weeks. Maybe not even that long.

I’m annoyed when I find myself humming along with the melody coming from the speakers and shut myself up with the last gulp of hot chocolate, which I sip from a paper cup on a bench in front of an empty Santa’s Grotto. And right on time, because Nico is striding my way, tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome like some Hollywood A-lister. I throw my empty cup into the trash can and promise myself that I will not inquire what he has in the big paper bag he’s carrying.

I am not letting him win.

“I think we’re all set, unless you want to pick up some sugar-free snacks,” he says, standing next to me.

This is cold war on his part, because, as he pointed out, I do actually like the sugary snacks. He’s trying to force me to either admit it, or punish me by making me eat the thing I don’t want, just so I can keep up appearances. Pure psychological warfare, but what else should I expect from a sociopathic serial killer?

“I don’t think they have the stuff I want here,” I lie and turn on my heel, so he doesn’t have the opportunity to contradict me. There will be plenty of tasty treats at highway stops.

“Are you sure? I think I’ve seen some that said they’re gluten-free, sugar-free, lactose-free, high protein, and with carob nibs. You know, instead of chocolate bits.”

Oh, now this is cruel and unusual.

“See, I told you, you don’t know me all that well. I’m not gluten or lactose-free,” I tell him coldly and see his cheeks flush. I love the way he swallows, making that beautifully masculine throat move. I could lick his neck instead of any candy. But when he opens his mouth, a middle-aged woman in a glittery red sweater stops right next to us and covers her mouth with hands entwined as if she were about to pray.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but would you like to do a good deed, and earn some cash to spend on Christmas?” she asks Nico.

When he turns to her, a wide smile blooms on his lips, and it’s infuriating that she gets one and I don’t. Even though it’s fake.

“Oh, I’m not sure we have the time—”

She puts her hands up. “Just hear me out. I don’t see any kids with you so I was hoping you might be more available than some of the dads I asked. Our Santa didn’t show up for work.” She points to the grotto. “We only need a few hours of your time. And your friend could be an elf helper, if he wants.” She beams at me as if that’s a good offer. “All paid on the spot, after the job. What do you say? Will you save Christmas?” The lady laughs and pats Nico’s arms as my feet freeze to the floor. She said the magic words and I’m already cursing in my mind, because Nico has a hard-on for Christmas, and the fact that he’s even considering this is making me want to scream .

I can’t cause a scene though and tell him what I think about this. He must know we don’t have a few hours to spare, so I let him answer.

He bites his lip and pats my back. “I mean… I can’t say no to Christmas. Will you be my elf, Blake?”

I stare at him, lift my brows to remind him how much this will delay us but, in the face of no explicit protest, he offers the woman a wide grin.

“We’ll accept. Where can we prepare?”

I can’t fucking believe this shit. Not only is he delaying our plans and risking that we won’t reach Aspen on time, but also draws me into this clownery?

Unbelievable.

He must truly hate me.

The woman introduces herself as Julia and leads us through a shop with all types of Christmas crap. I have to admit it has nothing on Nico’s Winter Emporium. While this place is all plastic, glitter glue, and smells of old donut oil, Nico’s shop is the epitome of Christmas magic. All those handmade toys, the miniature train, the local sweet treats, and the scent of pine and orange encompassing it all create a place that really is beyond time and therefore can get away with being an all-year-round Christmas shop.

But I shouldn’t be thinking about how amazing his lovely shop is, and what a great atmosphere he has created when he just threw us both into the clutches of Julia’s glittery green nails. If Nico thinks I’ll be dressing up as an elf ever again, he has another thing coming.

“Thank you for doing this, guys,” Julia tells us, leading us past the man working at the pop-up Christmas store’s cash register, and into the back rooms. “You are a Godsend. The kids would be so disappointed if it wasn’t for you.”

“How long will this take?” I ask, trying not to sound overtly abrasive as she opens the door leading into a cluttered storage room with piles of boxes and rails surrounding a sparse area close to the entrance. It can’t be bigger than my bathroom back at home.

“Oh, just three hours, once you start at midday. Then, after an hour’s break, another three hours.”

That’s it, we are getting out of here as soon as she leaves.

But when Julia closes the door behind her, leaving us in the dim light of a single light bulb swinging from a cable above us, Nico starts undressing to change into the Santa outfit waiting for him on a hanger. Un-fucking-believable.

I swear he’s doing this on purpose, because my mouth goes dry at the sight of his chest, and I’m struggling to spit out all the venom on my tongue.

“Why are we going to Aspen if you hate me this much?” comes out of my mouth the moment she’s out.

“What? I’m doing what you asked me to, since you claim I can’t love you unless I kill him.” Nico squints at me and his nostrils flare at a deep inhale.

My face twists. “Yes, and to do that, we need to be in Aspen tomorrow, and not dead-tired. Why would you agree to this job?” I ask, gesturing at the open red jacket he already put over his bare chest, about to hide all that tempting body hair.

To make things worse, we’re forced to stand so close in this damn storage room I can smell his cologne, and it’s confusing my body when I should be thinking with my brain only. It’s like being on a diet and walking past a bakery .

Nico frowns. “It’s the right thing to do. Did you see all those kids out there? They’ll be disappointed. I can’t not save Christmas.”

He really believes this shit. That he’s a decent human being, not a killer on the way to commit more murder.

“What about saving my Christmas? Since I actually know what kind of person you are? No need for a fake beard and costumes.”

“And what kind of person am I, huh?” Nico asks without a hint of a smile left. Instead, his eyes are ice cold. Which doesn’t make him any less handsome, but he doesn’t need to know that.

I swallow, feeling a bit faint, because I’m sharing a small space with a predator. “Why are you pretending to be Mr. Nice Guy, when we both know you enjoy killing and torture?” I ask, lowering my voice.

He hums, taking his time to think through my question as if it were a tricky one. All I want is to force him out of this room so we can get back on the road. It’s really not that complicated.

“I am nice. Maybe I want to remind you of that.” Nico swallows. “I could be your Mr. Nice Guy. I guess the surprise in the cave was a bit of a misfire on my part. You don’t need to see any of that if you don’t want to, and we can date in normal ways.”

What is he even talking about? There will be no normalcy between me and him. He’s a criminal I’m unhealthily fascinated by, and there’s no pushing the truth back into the closet after I’ve seen what he is.

I rub my face, because I can’t think straight when he’s in front of me, half-naked. I’ve been spending hours in his company, constantly breathing in his scent yet denied touch. At this point, I would lie, steal, and cheat for a taste of him. But he deserves the truth, or we’ll never be past this. “Nico, I can’t date you. You’re a serial killer.”

My stomach clenches when a darkness settles in his blue eyes. I don’t know if it’s a trick of light because the bulb above us gives such stark illumination, or just because he’s lowered his eyelids, but it feels unnatural. His jaw tightens, and he inhales deeply, which only makes me avoid staring at his pecs, because they’re all too close and all too tempting.

“You can’t date me, but you can fuck me? Fuck a serial killer?” his voice is like a boulder weighing on my heart, and I take a step back, a mouse fallen into a lion’s cage.

He can’t be so deeply in denial. I’m a normal person, who wants to live a fun, carefree life. I don’t want to have to watch my back, or worry for him, or fear what he might do when one day he loses interest in me.

He’s a serial killer. What else can I expect?

“That’s different.”

He stares me down. “I think I get it. You love the danger. You like the Christmas Killer, but not me .”

It feels like a slap, and I shake my head, because that’s not true at all. “What are you talking about? I do like you!”

Nico cracks his neck with a sneer. “ Like me? How can you like me? You don’t even like Christmas!”

I have never heard anything less reasonable in my life! What a wild logical jump to make.

“ You are not Christmas!”

“But I am the Christmas Killer, and that is something you secretly love.” Nico steps closer, until our boots touch, as if he’s daring me to back away. But I can’t move. Blood has drained out of my head, and all I can sense is his cologne, all I can see is his handsome face above, and his hairy chest. Even his voice, dangerous and raspy, is keeping me still like an invisible chain .

After having sex at least twice a day since I lost my virginity, the dry spell of the last two days has been a shock to the system, and I can’t think straight when he’s so close, so authoritative.

“It’s… complicated.”

Nico shakes his head, and places his hand on my neck, his fingers keeping my jaw still as if he’s assessing a turkey to kill for his feast. “It’s not, really. You can’t date me, but you can fuck me. You hate Christmas, but you have use for the Christmas Killer. You need me to kill your brother, and I want your sweet, tight body as my pay. I think we understand each other now.”

I hate the coldness in his voice, because it doesn’t suit him at all, but I can’t help what his words are doing to me. They’re coming straight from my most secret fantasies, and I can’t look away even though we’re heading straight for a painful crash. “You want me to pay?” I ask, breathless, because saying that out loud sends my flesh into a lusty frenzy. He’s so strong, so dangerous, and I’m eating it up.

“Yes,” he rasps and just as I’m about to answer, he turns me around so I’m facing a stack of boxes. He’s often tender with me, so it always shocks me that he can manhandle me with such ease.

I whimper and grab the edge of the box on top, pushing back against him, because finally he’s touching me again. Maybe this uneasy situation can be solved through pleasure, and after the past two weeks, my body learned to crave him with an almost unnatural thirst. I widen my stance and roll my hips in a circular motion, struggling to keep still.

His big warm hands slide under my hoodie, straight for my pecs. He squeezes them hard and pushes against me, already growing hard. I should tell him to wait until we’re in a motel, or at least in the car in the middle of nowhere, that the door to this room doesn’t even have a lock, but it only excites me more that his lust is so urgent.

I don’t understand what’s between us now, but responding to his touch is instinctual and doesn’t require much thought. Nico’s shameless in how he rubs his crotch against my ass, as if this is all I am for him now. I’m not sure how to feel about it, yet it doesn’t make me any less aroused.

“W-what if she comes back?” I try, but all and any reasons to protest die in my mind when Nico covers the lower half of my face with his hand, wordlessly telling me to be quiet. And oh, how I long to fulfill all his wishes.

“Then she’s gonna find me railing you and either kick us out or call the cops.” There’s a fresh pack of cleaning sponges resting nearby, and I watch him grab one. Before I can ask him what he wants with it, he unceremoniously stuffs it in my mouth. Leaning over me, he whispers in my ear. “So let’s not attract attention with your moaning.”

The foam tastes of nothing, but the sound of his voice, so low and commanding, makes me bite into it as he kneads my flesh, already hard against my ass. I look back, only for him to take a handful of my hair and press my face against the cardboard. I can’t help myself, and I’m once again overcome by a perverted desire that penetrates every bit of flesh. My body already knows what it wants, and my mind isn’t far behind.

In some ways, this is so much easier than the hard conversations we’ve been having, dealing with who he is, or that I’m intending to kill my brother. With Nico, all sense of past or future disappears, leaving only the here and now, where loneliness doesn’t exist.

But lust sure does, along with that pinch of fear that makes my dick hard .

I don’t know if this is punishment or if he misses me and doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. Either way, when he unzips my pants then pulls them down, exposing me in a room where someone could walk in on us any minute, thinking becomes impossible.

I’m not even sure if we’ve arranged that I’m his until he kills Carl, or if I’m supposed to fulfill his needs after we’re done too. Or if it’s a valid arrangement at all.

Nico pinches my nipple, and his cock settles between my ass cheeks as he enjoys kneading my flesh. He shamelessly squeezes my cock too, once more pressing my face down when I try to look back.

I want to remind him we have little time, that we should hurry, but the sponge in my mouth keeps me silent, so I express the urgency I’m feeling by rubbing myself against him with a soft moan. His shaft is such a beautiful fit in my crack, and I twist my hips to kiss it with my hole.

“So eager, huh? Starving for a violent criminal’s dick?” he asks in an unforgiving voice.

I hate how true his words are. I can’t divorce my lust from who he is, and how I criticized him for it. My body doesn’t care about laws, and I get goosebumps of anticipation when he backs off a little, because I’ve no doubt he’s getting lube. I’ve barely started having sex, but I love it so much. I love his dick inside me and how long he can go on for, how strong he is, how confident.

I love it when he puts his weight on top of me and shows me how much in control of me he really is. Deep down, I trust him not to hurt me, but knowing how dangerous he is, how unhinged, makes me harder than anything else. I crave to have him hold me down and fuck me hard on the floor of the cell where he put me that night he abducted me. I want him to scare me until I believe that the upcoming orgasm might be my very last .

Maybe I even want to see him kill bad people who would never answer for their crimes otherwise.

I moan into my makeshift gag and spread my thighs wider, hungry for him.

He doesn’t waste any more time and spits on my exposed hole despite also following that up with a drizzle of lube. My balls tighten from arousal, and then he’s aligning himself with my anus. It’s like having warmth explode deep inside me, and I long for him to reach where the sensation originates.

“Come on, relax and open up to me. Give me what I’m owed,” Nico whispers, and then his weight is on me again. I want to take him. Fast. Now. But his cock is thick, and I’ve only taken it a few times. I’m not that used to his girth yet. Still, the raw need wins out, and I twist my body as I push out, relaxing my muscles. It feels almost like my hole is welcoming him with a kiss, and I sob into the sponge, so very desperate to offer him the best I have.

As soon as his cockhead is in, Nico grabs my arms and pulls them back. “I guess this is all you want to be for me…” he mutters before a harsh thrust that leaves me whimpering and shifting my weight helplessly.

Not that I want to escape. My dick is hard, my hole stretched for him, and until he gets his fill, I’m not going anywhere. I missed being under him. He won’t leave me behind for as long as he’s inside me. I’m so sorry about upsetting him, but we can discuss that later. Right now, our tempers need to mellow out, and as he sinks in balls-deep, spearing my body with his hard shaft, I tremble like a newborn calf.

“Mm… mhm,” I hum to let him know how much I love to have him inside me, how deliciously his fingers dig into the flesh of my arms. He has me pinned to the boxes, and I want him to fuck me until he’s spent. Once, twice, however many times he wants.

He buries his face against my nape, and his needy grunts turn me on even more as he starts fucking me as if his life depends on the orgasm he’s chasing. Fast, animalistic, eager to come. I keep my legs spread wide to accommodate him, and when he bites my neck, all I can do is whimper into my gag. My hole is on fire, but I want his satisfaction. I want him to come inside me and tell me I’m a good boy even though I know I’ve been a menace.

But am I not being good to him now? Pliant. Open. Once again, I try to look back only to have my face pressed to the box, and saliva dribbles down my chin as he jabs into me harder than before. So far, his thrusts have been controlled and slow, but this was a warning, and I whimper like a lost dog begging for the attention of his master. My skin feels as if it’s about to go up in flames. My hole aches in the best way possible. And I want his cum so fucking much.

Nico settles with his lips against my nape, strong grip on my wrists, his hips working like a machine. There’s a comfort in knowing he wants me this much despite the turmoil I’ve been causing.

“Oh, fuck yes…” he mumbles, fucking me with abandon, skin slapping against skin.

He lets go of one of my arms, and when he reaches between my legs to squeeze my painfully hard dick, I’m not sure if he wants to jerk me off or just fondle me for his own pleasure. It doesn’t matter. His touch is like oil thrown into fire, and I climb to my toes, presenting my ass to him as he pounds me, filling the small, cluttered space with the sounds of our sweaty bodies.

He’s still holding one of my hands back, twisting it almost too firmly, but I love the symbolism of it and moan because each of his thrusts is like a hot wave. His touch makes me feel so damn special, so close to him, so safe from all the evil in the world.

It’s as though his dangerous aura is a shield, and as long as I’m within it, serving him with my body, I can’t be harmed. I can’t deny it. I like it. No. I love it. I love when he’s inside me, so intense, so needy. Love being the only one who can give him what he wants.

I know he’s a cruel monster, yet the strokes of his hand on my cock become fast and insistent. Whether to please me, or to feel my muscles tightening on his cock doesn’t matter, because it feels so damn good to be jerked off as he fucks me with that thick tool.

My mind fizzles, and I can almost sense bubbles at the base of my skull as he enters me hard and fast while his hand works my cock at the same speed. I’m overflowing with need. On fire. And if it wasn’t for the sponge in my mouth, I would have screamed, begging him to fuck me harder.

Cum shoots out of me almost too fast, and I stiffen, tightening my thighs as he continues sawing into me without mercy.

The little grunt he makes against my skin makes me shoot even harder the second time, even though I already thought I was at my limit. My whole body trembles, throbs with heat as if I’m about to melt, fall apart, and he’s the only one who can put me back together.

“That’s it…” A few hard jabs later, Nico stiffens on top of me, rocking his hips a little, as if he wants to make sure he’s spilled all his cum inside me. I love how his heart pounds against my back. Maybe if we fuck enough times, the frost in mine will melt?

I’m afraid of what might happen if I get swept away by the tide of his madness, but I can’t resist his warmth and pull his arm around me as our bodies rest. It’s only then that I shove the sponge out of my mouth and breathe freely. “Wow, that was… unexpected.”

But he doesn’t give me much of a cuddle and pulls back after the briefest moment. “Was it though? You know how much I want you.”

I finally get to look back at him and notice he’s tying up a condom and throwing it behind a box. I don’t know if I should feel complimented or slighted. Because on one hand, it makes sense that he used one in a public space, for convenience, maybe even out of care for me, so I don’t have to worry about his cum leaking out of me. But on the other hand, it feels like he wanted a barrier between us.

Still, there will be many other times when I can let him breed me without worry, so I step closer and slide my hand over his side. “Well… I didn’t expect us to do it where we could be caught. It was kind of hot.”

He scowls at me. “‘Kind of’?”

My face falls. “Very,” I say in a voice so embarrassingly small I can barely hear it myself.

Nico nods as he takes off the red jacket and puts it back on the rack. It reminds me to pull up my own pants, so I do that after a quick clean up with the damn gag-sponge.

There’s a sense of unease inside my chest, and I attempt to extinguish it by resting my face on Nico’s bare arm. “Maybe we could… rest?”

Nico looks anywhere but at me. “Nah, you were right, we should go. There’s no time for stupid shit.” He points to the Santa costume and grabs his sweater, once more standing beyond my grasp.

I can’t help the sense of disappointment squeezing my chest, but we are in a public space, and he is right, we’ve already wasted too much time. I shouldn’t be getting upset just because he didn’t give me a single kiss. I don’t want things to get too serious anyway.

We’re having sex again, I said my piece, and there will be no ‘saving Christmas’ by Nico.

But if I got what I wanted, then why do I feel so bad?