Mountain Man Santa (Naughty and Spice)

Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

JERRY

“ C an I talk to you alone in your office for a moment?” Stacey asks.

My breath catches in my throat. This is it. I nod as my mind races over a thousand possible outcomes, and my mutinous heart settles on the most dangerous one of them all…that Stacey will love and accept me despite everything.

She leads the way, and I follow frowning, though still managing to savor her curves from behind. The elf costume does nothing to conceal them, which leaves me stuck between appreciation and raging jealousy at the thought of any other man’s eyes on her. Even worse, she’s got a sunshiny, bubbly personality utterly oblivious to her own sex appeal.

Everything about Stacey perfectly positions her to put my heart through an emotional meat grinder. But I’d risk that and much more for one chance at happiness with her. And I would make certain she never lived to regret it.

Once we stand in my office with the door shut, I fight hard not to grab and hold her. The weird emotional and physical distance between us continues to bother me, making me desperate for her affection. But I can’t be needy like this. Instead, I say in my best grumpy voice, “Yeah, yeah. Get your laughs in while you can. This costume’s way too damn small for me.”

Tugging at the red outfit with white fur trim, I lament the discomfort of wearing something two inches too small in every place you can imagine. Besides enduring the ultimate wedgie, the fucking white beard feels like unwashed wool. I pull it down for the umpteenth time, making feral sounds as I claw at my bearded cheeks and neck like a bear against a tree.

Stacey’s eyes dilate, her nostrils flare, and her pink bow of a mouth displays the kind of pout I’d give my right arm to kiss away. If she’ll ever let me near her again.

“About that…” She worries her bottom lip, and all I can think about is how much I want to suck it.

Clearing my throat and trying to get my mind under control, I urge, “Go on…”

“Your outfit…”

“Is there a problem?”

She shakes her head emphatically. “How do I put this?”

“Out with it,” I order.

“Umm…well…”

I raise my eyebrows.

In a hissing whisper, she says, “Jerry, it’s downright indecent. You need to put on an apron or something before you go out to greet the kids.”

I rest my face in my hand, letting out a long sigh. What a fucking day! I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed or turned on by Stacey’s observation. In my defense, I’ve worked pretty damn hard not to get more than semi-aroused around her tonight. But apparently, my hometown advantage is still apparent. “I told you it’s too damn small?—”

“No, it’s not!” she interrupts, her eyes rounding.

“Pull yourself together, Stacey. I’m talking about the costume.”

“Oh,” she replies, making her mouth the perfect kind of round for my cock. Dammit, I need to get out of this costume, and I need to get out of this office before I burn alive.

Stacey’s cheeks glow redder than my suit, and I half expect her to go up in flames.

The New Yorker in me wants to ask my employee if country girls like big cocks. But I don’t need or want the answer to that question.

Instead, I settle on a much safer topic. “Santa in an apron?” I ask, throwing up my hands. “Seriously?”

She deftly removes her burgundy half apron, tossing it in my direction. The warmth still clinging to it from her body isn’t lost on me, and I exhale deeply, trying to make the noise more grumbly than breathless.

She says, “Either that or you let me wear the costume. I’m afraid when you sit down, the seams will bust open or something, and you’ll end up making the spirit bright in jail for indecent exposure.”

“Wouldn’t be my first Christmas in prison,” I observe, catching her eye, both wanting and dreading the conversation we need to have, thanks to her brothers. She nods but says nothing…

As for the seam of this costume, the thought’s crossed my mind, too, but I don’t need her putting torn pants into the ether. Tying the apron around my waist so I look like a damn idiot, I chide, “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with one of my employees. You know, you’re on the clock right now, and sexual harassment goes both ways, Stace. You’re making me feel like a piece of meat right now.”

She bursts into giggles, and when I look up, she’s appraising me. Her laughter fills my heart with a hope I can’t contain, and I smile despite myself. “What?”

“You’re the love child of Rocky Balboa, an elf on the shelf, and Gordon Ramsey. I’m not convinced we should even let you out in public.”

A deep rumble shakes my chest. The ridiculousness of this situation finally hits me. Watching Stacey’s sexy frame tremble with humor, I’d give just about anything on this Earth to make her mine.

Glancing at my watch, I ask, “Well, what are we gonna do? The ho-ho-ho show starts in five minutes?—”

“Just keep that apron on, and good luck sitting down… If you feel anything tear or give way, stay seated, I guess.”

I frown deeply to stop another round of laughter. The question on my mind is heartfelt: What would I do without you? And it’s the last thing I need to think about right now because the kids waiting in the dining room need a depressed Santa about as much as they need one with ripped pants.

Instead, I bark. “Last time I checked, you’re on the clock, and I’m not paying you to objectify me any further.”

“Sorry, but it was the elephant in the room…” Smashing her hand over her mouth, she stares unblinkingly. Clearly, she hasn’t learned to think before she speaks.

“Really? That was the best metaphor you could come up with? I feel downright violated. Take your naughty mouth and your sassy tongue outta my office this instant…before I…”

Her eyebrows shoot up questioningly.

“Spank you. Okay. There you got me to say it, you dirty little elf. I may look like a pervert right now, but you’re the one whose mind is in the gutter.”

Her eyes hold my gaze, and her lips turn up with a seductive smile that makes my blood boil. Hot damn, it’s going to be a long night. And if she keeps this up, there won’t be an apron in the world that can conceal how I feel about her.

A shit-eating grin captures my face as she walks away, giving me a few delectable moments to fantasize about throwing her over my lap and smacking that pretty, round ass of hers.