 
Santa Baby,

I Want A Bad Boy For Christmas

Justine Elvira

Written by Justine Elvira

Edited by Eileen Proksch

Published by Justine Elvira

Smashwords Edition

©2015 Justine Elvira

justinethedream@gmail.com
All rights reserved. This book contains material under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any Unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author's imagination and are used fictitiously.

Cover image used under license from shutterstock.com
Table of Contents

Listen on Spotify

Note to my Readers

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Justine's Books

Noah

About the Author
Listen on Spotify

I've made a playlist to go alongside this book. If you're interested in hearing the Christmas music mentioned in this book you can click on the link below and it will bring you to the music.

I hope you enjoy Santa Baby, I Want a Bad Boy for Christmas.

Santa Baby Spotify Playlist

Note to my Readers

There really isn't much I can say that would truly express how grateful I am for all of you. I wouldn't be able to do what I love if you weren't out there reading the stories I've created. To express my thanks I've written this story for you. It's not a full-length novel, just a Christmas novelette to bring you some joy and happiness in the only way I know how–a steamy romance.

May all of you have a wonderful holiday with the people you love and cherish most in the world.

Love,

Justine Elvira

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Chapter One

My life sucks right now.

I live a pathetic, miserable existence and the next few days are only going to serve as a reminder of just how much I'll be missing because I don't have a boyfriend and I won't be back home for Christmas. While couples are out holding hands and finishing last minute shopping, I'm alone in my cold, empty bed, dreading having to go to work at the bar tonight.

There are four more days until Christmas, a time when families get together, express their love with gifts and food, and celebrate the birth of Baby Jesus. My family lives across the country and will be celebrating the holly jolly holiday without me. I can't afford a plane ticket and they can't afford to buy me one.

This blows!

My parents and brothers will be together. My mom will be making her honey-glazed ham with all the side dishes I love. They'll spend the evening around the warm fire with my extended family singing carols, sipping eggnog, and opening gifts. My oldest brother will be playing the guitar, while my grandmother is passed out drunk in the recliner.

I'm going to miss them like crazy.

I'll be here in New Jersey with my three roommates and best friends. We'll probably get drunk on green and red Jell-O shots, skip dinner and dig right into the pumpkin and apple pie, as we watch a marathon of Christmas movies on television. On any other night of the year this would sound appealing to me, but not at Christmas.

Christmas should be spent with the people you love and adore, but can only handle on certain holidays. Christmas should be spent with family.

The worn and cracked door to my small bedroom bursts open. I grab my thick down comforter and throw it over my head mumbling, "I'm not getting up yet. Go away."

"Morgan, get off your lazy bum and get up. We have to be over at Shooters in an hour and the snow's coming down hard outside," Chloe says annoyed, as she plops down on my bed and manages to pull the comforter away from my head. My face is covered in my long, tangled blond hair. I puff a breath out to blow the strands away from my mouth and then drag my hands through my messy mane so I can see her clearer as I sit up in bed.

Chloe's short, purple pixie cut is just inches from my face and I pull back to look at the new color. "I thought you were going with red because of the holiday," I comment, admiring her purple tresses.

"I was going to, but the purple called out to me when I was in the store. You know me and my hair. I'm a sucker for a bright color."

"Ugh," I groan out as I collapse back down on my back. "I really don't want to go into work tonight. Can you tell Vinnie I'm sick or something?"

"Oh no, you don't. You're going in if I have to dress you myself and pull you in there by your gorgeous blond hair. I mean, seriously. Your hair is to die for. If I had hair like yours I wouldn't be experimenting on my head so much with funky colors."

"How did we get from me not going to work to my hair? Focus on the subject at hand, Chlo. I'm not going into work tonight."

"Oh yes, you are," she replies, standing up from my bed and pulling me up with her. "I know you broke up with Vinnie's son but you need to go in there with your head held high and work. You need the money for rent next month and you did nothing wrong breaking up with Frankie. He's such a douche. I just wonder why you didn't break up with him sooner."

"I wonder that, too."

Frankie was the latest in my string of horrible boyfriend choices. He was a gentleman in some ways. He'd open doors for me and pull out my chair, but he was also a wimp, which is shocking when you look at him. He's got such huge, beefy muscles on the outside, but inside he's a scrawny, eighty-pound boy. He never stood up for me with his father, he'd cower at confrontation, and he wouldn't know how to pleasure a woman even if he had a step-by-step guide in front of him.

He was no different than the two boyfriends I had before him. For some reason I attract weak, little men who can't handle anything on their own. Frankie took the break-up hard but I was glad for it to be over. I couldn't pretend that I was attracted to him anymore. The only thing I regret about breaking up with him is that I'm single for Christmas. It would have been nice to have someone comfort me in that way.

But I needed to change things up. I want to date a man like one of the alphas in the romance books I read. I want a man who takes charge, knows what he wants and goes out to get it. I want a man who can tell me what to do in a way that's not demeaning and gets me hot. Who holds open doors for me one minute and then claims me in a room full of strangers the next.

I want a man who knows where my g-spot is!

The problem is I'm pretty sure a man like that doesn't exist. I'm scarred for life by the characters my favorite authors have created. It's why I like to live vicariously through the heroines in my favorite novels. They've got their shit together. They know what they're doing and they are all dating my ideal man.

My black apron lands on top of my head and I'm brought out of my thoughts as I look over at Chloe. My eyes drift down her body and I realize she's already dressed for work.

"Morgan, you need to wash your face, get dressed, and put some make-up on. You'll feel better at the end of the night when your apron is full of cash from the tips our drunken customers have lavished on you."

She's right. The week before Christmas I always get the best tips.

"All right, all right." I cave at the thought of all the money I'll make.

Slipping my satin red nighty off my body I quickly get dressed in jeans and my black fitted t-shirt with Santa's Ultimate Drink List written on the back. Our boss thought these would be great to wear the entire month of December and surprisingly, he's right. Every night I have customers reading the back of my shirt and picking their next drink off of it.

"Your body is perfect. What I wouldn't give for your tits and flat stomach," Chloe says from right inside the doorway. I'm startled that she's still inside my bedroom.

I turn and glare at her. "Was it really necessary to watch me get ready?"

"Yes. I had to make sure you wouldn't climb back in bed as soon as I left...and stop being a prude. I've seen all your goodies before, and I'm the perfect best friend by telling you how envious of your body I am. You should be thanking me."

"Thanks, Chlo. And you have nothing to be envious of. You've got a badass body and you know it. You're thicker, in a good way, and guys like a little meat on a girl. Plus, you're covered in tats and men are attracted to that. They find you mysterious. When they look at me they just see a dumb blonde."

Once my gym shoes are on, I pull a brush through my golden locks, pleased that my curls from last night have somehow managed to stay in my hair. I still have loose, beautiful curls.

Grabbing my purse and make-up bag, I shut my light off and follow Chloe out of the room so we can head out. Our other roommates, Lauren and Hannah, are sitting on the couch that we picked off the street over the summer. They're in sweats watching The Real Housewives. While Chloe works with me at the bar, Lauren and Hannah have more respected jobs; they just don't make any more money than we do. Lauren's a secretary for some contracting company and Hannah works part-time at a florist, while commuting into New York City for school.

"You girls heading out?" Lauren asks as she looks up from the TV.

Hannah's too captivated by the fighting housewives to look up, or even hear that a conversation is going on, so I grab the remote and toss it at her as Chloe responds, "Yep. We're closing down the bar tonight so we won't get in until after three."

Hannah's finally realized we're in the room after the remote I threw hit her in the thigh. "Be careful," she says. "The roads are slick and I don't think the salt trucks have been out yet."

"We will be, thanks. Have a good night in." I smile back at her.

As we climb into Chloe's car after scraping off her windows, I blast the heat on high.

"You know, you're not some dumb blonde. I hope you realize that, Morgan."

I shrug my shoulders and look out the window as Chloe pulls out of the lot across from our brick apartment building. Okay, so maybe I'm not dumb but I'd be stupid not to know what men think of me. I know what others see when they see me.

I lucked out in the looks department and with my long blond hair that I curl into loose waves just right, my fit body that I work hard on, and my soft sought-after lips coated in cherry red lipstick, I'm something to be desired. When men see me, and then see me working in a bar, two things cross their mind: dumb and easy.

"I'm twenty-five with a high school education and no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life. I think that sums up how smart I am."

"Stop it. If that makes you dumb then I'm dumb, too, because my life pretty much mirrors yours. You're just down right now because you're single and you can't go home for Christmas. You need to snap the fuck out of it. I need my partner in crime back."

"I never left. I'm right here, Chlo."

"So that means you're going to take shots with me behind the bar when no one is looking, flirt with the dirty old men to get bigger tips, and bust out in drunken karaoke with me right before the bar closes?"

I may be a little down and depressed right now, but her plan for how we'll spend our shift does sound like exactly what I need. "Can we dance on top of the bar like they do in Coyote Ugly? I've always wanted to do that."

"We can do whatever your cold, black heart wants," she replies, winking at me and we laugh the rest of the way to work.
Chapter Two

The bar we work at is located right next to an outdoor mall filled with last minute shoppers, so Chloe has a hard time finding a parking space. Thankfully, the roads weren't as bad as we expected so we pull in twenty minutes before our shift begins. When she finally finds a spot after cutting off some guy in a green minivan, we start walking towards work.

"Hey, we have some time to kill. We should look around the mall a little."

"Chlo, we have no money. It would be torture to look at things I can't buy."

"Oh, come on. Seriously, Morgan, you need to get out of this cranky bitch mood. It's Christmas, for God's sake! Everyone's cheerful except for you."

"Actually, this time of year is when the suicide rate spikes."

Chloe's mouth drops open, unprepared for my response. "That's it, Scrooge, you need an attitude adjustment and I know just the thing that will do it."

She grabs my hand and starts running so I'm forced to run on the slick ground, with the snow falling down on us at a rapid pace. We pass several shops before we reach the end of the walkway and take a sharp left. Suddenly, the snow stops falling and I'm standing on a red carpet instead of a cement walkway.

I look up to see we're under some type of large white event tent, and sitting in a royal chair thirty feet in front of me is Santa. Well, not "Santa" but a man dressed as Jolly Old Saint Nick. There's a little boy, maybe two or three, with chubby cheeks and a sticky face sitting on his lap. I'm surprised to see only a few children in line waiting to be next. When I was a kid I had to wait hours in line to meet him. The short line must have something to do with the weather.

The speakers in the tent are blasting _Santa Claus is Comin' to Town_ and the kids in line dance and sing along.

"What are we doing in here, Chlo?"

"We're going to sit on Santa's lap and tell him what we want for Christmas."

Rolling my eyes I look over at her condescendingly. "I think it's time we had a talk, Chloe. I'm shocked your parents haven't told you, or any of your classmates when you went to school, but Santa isn't real. And while we're at it, Cupid, Leprechauns, the Easter Bunny, and any other person that could also be a stuffed animal, aren't real either. You were deceived. They're all just playing dress up."

She lets out a fake gasp. "What about the Tooth Fairy? The Tooth Fairy is a girl so she has to be real."

I chuckle at our silly discussion and realize it's the first time I've laughed in days. "Nope, the Tooth Fairy isn't real either. Your parents were the ones taking your teeth and leaving you money."

We both burst out laughing and it's not until I hear the sound of screaming and crying that I turn around and see what I've done. A little girl around the age of six is standing right behind me and she heard everything. She's crying into her mom's neck as her mom holds her, glaring at us with disgust.

"I am so sorry," I blurt out immediately. I feel sick for just crushing a little girl's fantasy. I really am a buzz kill.

I step hesitantly towards them, smiling at the mother as I tap the little girl on the shoulder. She sniffles a few times before looking up at me. Her cheeks are blotchy red and her big green eyes are filled with tears.

I'm a horrible person.

"Hi, honey. My friend and I were just goofing around, but I can tell you that Santa is very much real. That's why we're here in this tent with you. We were just about to get in line to meet him."

Her eyes grow bigger as she looks at me shocked. "But only little kids go to meet Santa."

She's very observant and absolutely right. No sane adult gets in line at a mall to meet Santa if they don't have a kid with them, but now, because of my big mouth, I have to lie and tell her I'm going to meet that fat man in a red suit.

"That's true, it is mostly little kids who want presents from Santa, but sometimes adults need presents, too."

She wipes her eyes and then her mother steps in line as Chloe and I stay off to the side. "Aren't you getting in line, too?" the little girl asks.

"Umm..." What do I do? I wasn't planning on getting in line. I just said what I said to calm the little girl down. "I don't think I should get in line anymore. My friend and I upset you so I think we're on the naughty list now."

The little girl giggles and my cold black heart warms a little knowing I didn't completely ruin her night. "I'll tell him you should be on the nice list. Then you can go up after me."

Man, this little kid thinks of everything. I'm about to turn her down again when her mom sends me a menacing look and my legs move forward to stand behind them in line.

The line moves fast and soon we're next in line as we watch the little girl sit on Santa's lap and list all the things she wants for Christmas.

"I know this is silly but I'm so glad we're doing this," Chloe says as she gets the camera on her phone ready.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a picture of you on Santa's lap. What else would I be doing?"

"You are not taking a picture of this."

"Try and stop me."

I go to take the phone out of her hand when the elf to my right yells, "Next!"

Arching my back so I can walk tall and confident, I walk over to where the mall Santa is sitting on his red thrown. I can hear Chloe snickering from behind me, but I ignore her and sit down on the man's left leg.

"Hello there, sweetie. What would you like for Christmas?"

"I'm not here to tell you what I want," I reply as I smile in Chloe's direction and she takes a picture.

He lets out a rehearsed belly laugh. "If you come up here to see Santa then you need to tell Santa what you want. That's how this works."

Closing my eyes in frustration, I turn towards him. My face is a few inches from his and I can distinctly smell Jack Daniels on his breath. When I look into his alcohol-dilated eyes I recognize the man underneath the fake white beard. It's one of our regulars at the bar.

"Really, Carl? You couldn't sober up before granting little boys and girls their wishes?"

"I am sober," he replies defensively. "Now tell Santa what you want so I can make sure to get it for you, and so that the next little girl can come up."

This is just great. Santa is Carl from the bar, he's drunk, and he won't let me leave until I tell him what I want for Christmas.

I turn into Carl a little more so he can see my serious expression. "You want to know what I want for Christmas? I want a bad boy for Christmas, Santa. I want a strong man with chiseled arms. I want dark, smoldering eyes and a panty-melting smile. I want the illusion of him being dangerous. I want a man who takes charge. A man who knows what he wants and gets it. I want a man that grabs me by the hair, pulls me in close, and takes my mouth with his. He should open doors for me and pull out my chair, but after dinner I want him to lay me on the table and ravish me with his tongue. I want to submit to his needs because he wants me to. I want his first instinct to be to keep me safe. And for God's sake, I want him to know where to find my g-spot," I rant out.

Carl's warm breath assaults my face and I instantly stand up, ready to leave this faux Santa behind.

"Morgan," Carl calls out from behind me as I switch spots with Chloe so she can sit on Santa's lap.

"Yes, Santa?"

"You want a bad boy for Christmas?" he slurs.

"Yes, Santa. I want a bad boy for Christmas. That's all I want." Is he really so drunk he can't remember what I said to him two minutes ago? How has no one else noticed he's on the sauce?

Chloe sits on his lap and smiles in my direction as I snap a picture of her. She looks absolutely ridiculous with her purple hair next to that white beard, but I love it.

"Consider your wish granted," Carl slurs.

Shaking my head at his promise to me, I reply, "Yeah, okay, Carl...I mean, Santa."

"I'll make it happen, Morgan. You just wait."

Chloe's still on Santa's lap and she recites her Christmas list to Carl. When she's finally done rattling off things she'll never receive like a new Chi blow-dryer and scratch-off lottery tickets, we leave and let the next child come up. We have to run all the way into work now, since our trip to see Santa has made us late for our shift.
Chapter Three

The next few days go by in a blur of work and hanging out with my best friends. My mood has shifted somewhat since I sat on Santa's lap. What we did was crazy and childish, but it was just what I needed to start laughing again and remember all the blessings I do have in life. Like having great friends who want to celebrate the holiday with me. I'm lucky.

After tonight's shift I'll have the next two nights off. I'm excited to just chill in the apartment with Chloe, Hannah, and Lauren, and veg out. I've worked every night this week and tonight is going to be the longest shift yet.

It's Christmas Eve.

The bar is filled with patrons who either have no family, or want to ignore their family. The drinks are pouring and I've already made enough money in tips for a C-note.

Tonight we're playing only Christmas music through the speakers to get our customers in the holiday spirit, but it's making me slightly depressed again. Every song is talking about family and lovers, and I don't have either. The only song that cheers me up is Grandma Got Run Over by A Reindeer. But every time I smile hearing it, I feel bad afterwards because I love my grandma and I miss her.

It's well past closing hour for the mall next door so Carl is sitting at the bar in his red generic Santa costume, his fake beard tucked under his chin with drops of Jack Daniels splattered on the white hair. I smile over at him and pour him another glass. On any other night I'd monitor his alcohol consumption, but it's Christmas Eve and I know from the years he's been coming in here that he has no family to go home to. He lost his wife and kids tragically and if he wants to drink the pain away to get through the holidays, then I'm going to let him.

Chloe slides up next to me and bumps my hip with hers. "Hey, lady. I'm killing it in tips tonight. How about you?"

"Same. I think I might walk out of here with two hundred, which will be nice since rent is due in a week." The song switches over to _All I Want for Christmas is You_ by Mariah Carey and I sigh, understanding exactly what Mariah is singing about. Screw jewelry, perfume, and robes. Mariah wants what all women want for Christmas, including me. She wants a man.

"Woohoo! I'll drink to our rent getting paid on time," Chloe shouts. She looks around the bar to make sure Vinnie is nowhere in sight and then fills two shot glasses with Vodka. She hands me one and we clink our glasses together before tossing the cool liquid back. The clear drink burns as it goes down and my eyes water. I squeeze them shut to shake off the taste and then open my eyelids back up.

I don't believe what I see.

At the entrance of the bar, just inside the door, stands the most ruggedly handsome man I've ever seen. My eyes start at his steel toe boots and trail up his dark denim jeans to the hem of his navy shirt. The shirt hangs loosely so I can't tell what he has going for him underneath, but his arms are mostly bare and chiseled with muscles. The white logo on his t-shirt reads Steel Carpentry. His firm jaw is covered in dark brown scruff and as I'm silently thanking God for bringing him into the bar tonight, his burning dark eyes meet mine. I inhale deeply and exhale at the thrilling way he's looking at me.

He can't be real. I just know I must be hallucinating. I want to walk over to him and rub the top of his short hair, wishing him into reality.

As the chorus of Mariah Carey's _All I Want for Christmas is You_ repeats through the speakers, my eyes part from his as I take the bottle of vodka and pour myself another shot, tossing it back quickly. Then I look back over to the doorway to see if he's still there.

He's not, and with his absence the song ends, too.

It must have been a Mariah Carey induced hallucination. I mean, anything is possible.

Chloe's still next to me and I bump hips with her to get her attention while I look down at the vodka bottle, pondering how much I can drink without risking getting my stomach pumped on Christmas Eve. "You're not going to believe what I thought I just saw."

While I'm waiting for a witty response from my best friend, I don't get one. She's gone completely silent and when I look over at her she's staring off in front of me. I turn my head to see what she's looking at and gasp in shock. Seated on the bar stool directly in front of me is the hottie from the entrance.

I didn't dream him up.

His hands are clasped together on the bar and I can see his rough, calloused hands. They're large and sexy, and I'm imagining all the things those hands could do to me if I let them.

"Excuse me, darling," he says in a deep, gruff voice.

Oh my, that voice.

I blink, moving my eyes away from his hands so I can look at him. His bold dark eyes captivate me as I reply, "What can I get you?"

"I'll have a whiskey straight." I'm too focused on his lips when he speaks to hear his order.

I need to get my shit together.

Shaking my head I say, "Sorry, I missed that. What would you like?"

"A whiskey, darling, to match the color of your beautiful eyes. Preferably Jim Beam."

My heart lightly flutters at his compliment and my cheeks flush a soft pink. "Coming right up."

My hands shake as I pour him his glass and set it in front of him. Before I can let go of his drink, his fingers graze mine and warm tingles spread up my arm, igniting fireworks throughout my body.

What is this feeling? I've never felt it before.

Closing my eyes, I let go of the glass and turn, leaving the bar to attend to the few high top tables I have. I need to keep myself distracted so I'm not tempted to stare at him.

As I'm leaving a table with two off-duty cops sharing a drink after their shift, Chloe grabs my hand and pulls me into the back room behind the bar.

"Jeez, Morgan. Do I need to wipe your chin for you or will you take care of the drool dripping down the side of your mouth?"

"Did you see him?" I ask, looking up at her with large excited eyes.

"Did I see the guy you're drooling all over? Yeah, Morgan, I saw him. He's a hottie, for sure, but you should control your reaction to him. You're gazing at him with puppy dog eyes."

Is Chloe right? Am I making my attraction to him too obvious?

It's amazing how I'm so enamored by him after only seeing him for two minutes. I know absolutely nothing about him. I've basically said only two words to him, yet I know he's exactly what I've been looking for.

He's my alpha male. He's my bad boy.

His clothes may not scream badass or dominant alpha male, but they definitely don't imply he's some uppity douchebag. There's something in his dark, coal-colored eyes that tell me he'll take care of me...in the exact way I need him to.

What the hell am I saying? This is crazy.

"Here," Chloe says, handing me a ten dollar bill. "Carl got up from his stool and left. He asked me to give you this tip. He also told me to tell you, you're welcome."

"You're welcome?" I ask. "I don't get it."

"Neither do I, but he was staring at your hottie when he said it to me and then glanced my way and winked. It was major creepy, but he definitely wanted me to tell you, you're welcome."

"But I never thanked him for anything."

"I don't know, Morgan. He's a drunk. Take it for what it's worth."

That's just it, I couldn't. It was like I instinctively knew there was more meaning to those two words, but what? He told Chloe to tell me, you're welcome, all while staring at my bad boy siting at the bar.

Wait a minute.

Oh, wow. That's it.

He was responding to my bad boy. He thinks he brought me my bad boy.

This is hilarious.

Giggling under my breath I move to walk back out on the floor when Chloe stops me. "What's so funny?" she asks with her hands on her hips, looking slightly perturbed.

I smile over at her and respond, "You know the other night when you made us go see Santa?"

"Yeah...it was epic. You made a little girl cry and I got a pic of you sitting on some old perv's lap."

"That old pervert was Carl."

"No way!"

"Yes way. He wanted me to tell him what I wanted for Christmas and I wouldn't play along. Finally, I just told him I wanted a bad boy for Christmas and listed all the qualities my bad boy had to have. I said it to get him off my back so that I could get off his lap, but as I was walking away he basically told me he'd get me what I asked for. He must have seen our new customer and assumed he had something to do with it."

Chloe's quiet for a moment before she replies, "Wow."

"I know. He's so drunk all the time that a part of me thinks that he really believes he's Santa Claus."

"No, I mean, wow. You asked for a bad boy and a tough, sexy-as-fuck man is sitting at the bar because the universe delivered. That's pretty crazy. Hey, can you ask the universe for some money next time because it would be nice to know I have a secure place to live."

"I didn't ask the universe for anything. I asked a fake Santa, and fake Santa had nothing to do with that hunk out there showing up. We have no idea if he's even the bad boy I wanted. I had a lot of mandatory qualities on my list. He probably doesn't have them all."

He better have the g-spot quality.

"I know how you could find out."

"Find out what?"

"I know how you could find out if he meets all your qualities."

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

Her palms grab my shoulders and she turns me around so I'm facing away from her and looking directly at the wooden swinging door that leads back out to the bar. "You go and talk to him."

The last word crosses her lips and she pushes me forward. My body collides with the swinging door as I fumble through to the other side. The music is loud and playing my favorite version of _Baby, it's Cold Outside_ , and when I look up the bar is almost empty.

Except...it's not.

My eyes land on the perfect face of my bad boy and I swallow hard, gulping back all of my fear.

It's now or never.
Chapter Four

I make my way behind the bar, collecting the empty glasses that litter the counter and stalling what I want to go do. When the bar is practically sparkling from the polish I gave it there is nothing left to clean up. Taking a deep breath, I walk over to him. When I get close he looks up from his empty glass and grins at me.

I swear my heart melts a little more inside.

"I've been waiting for a refill, darling." His husky voice is just as sexy as it was before, which adds to his perfect bad boy persona.

He hands me the glass and I pour him another whiskey, making sure to smile at him when I hand him back his drink. His fingers linger on mine before letting go and I feel the electricity between us.

"So what brings you in here?" This seems like a logical question since I've never seen him in Shooters.

He takes a sip of his whiskey and when I watch the glass touch his bottom lip I can't help but release a faint sigh, wondering what his lips would feel like on mine. "Had a rough day finishing up a job and needed to go somewhere to get away from it all."

"What do you do for work?"

"I'd rather not talk about work, darling. I just want to sit here, enjoy my whiskey, and watch a beautiful woman work."

The way he calls me beautiful isn't off-putting like it is when regulars at the bar say it to me. It's sweet and endearing. Something about him makes me confident that he's not just saying it to say it. He really thinks I'm beautiful.

Placing my elbows down on the bar, I lean in, my blond curls brushing over my shoulders as I move in close. "What would you like to talk about?"

I can't believe I'm being this forward with him. This isn't like me at all. While I'm no prude, I usually let the guy do the chasing. When he's done enough to earn a response from me, that's when I turn it up. Now I'm the one making the first move, leaning in and fluttering my long eyelashes up at him.

One of his large hands moves up to my hair as he takes a curl between two of his fingers and pulls gently. "Let's talk about you, darling. Why are you working on Christmas Eve? Shouldn't you be somewhere with your family, while your cookie-cutter boyfriend tries to impress them?"

I flinch at his assumption and pull away slightly before responding. "My family lives across the country and I don't have a boyfriend, and if I did he wouldn't be a cookie-cutter boyfriend." The last few words I say with air quotes because he couldn't be more wrong. Yes, I've dated douche-bags but they weren't pristine, perfect boyfriends. They were more your typical Jersey, tanned and waxed muscle heads.

"I didn't mean to offend you, darling. I just assumed you had some snooty, perfect-looking boyfriend lying around somewhere, creaming his pants over your gorgeous blond curls, pouty red lips, and small manicured hands he likes wrapped around his cock."

I look down at my French manicure and briefly realize the money I spend on getting my nails done every week might be why I'm broke all the time.

"Well, sorry to disappoint."

His eyes narrow, accentuating the crows feet around his eyes, and his pupils dilate as he huskily whispers, "You being single is not a disappointment. It's confirmation I'm meant to take you home with me tonight."

The blush from earlier comes back, covering my cheeks and revealing to him how flattered I am by his words. Why is his cockiness not pissing me off? I guess he's not actually being cocky. He's just being assertive and taking charge. Isn't this exactly what I wished for? Isn't this the perfect alpha?

"What's your name, darling?"

"Morgan."

"Morgan..." He lets my name linger on his tongue. "I like it. Well, Morgan, I'm Gunnar. Gunnar Steel."

His hand comes out to meet mine and I shake it, prepared for that delicious feeling to take over my body as my mind wanders over his name. Gunnar Steel–I love everything about it. I can just imagine myself calling out his first name as I scream in ecstasy. And Steel? It might as well have been destined for him to go along with the body of steel he's obviously packing under those clothes of his.

He should be banned from wearing clothes and just walk around naked.

And let's not even talk about the firm grip he has on my hand. This one touch makes me feel safe and protected, along with filling my body with longing.

We talk all night. I wait on the few customers I have and clean up the bar in between standing over by him and learning more about him. Gunnar owns his own carpentry business. He lives on the other side of the George Washington Bridge in New York but was out here finishing up a job that needed to be done for tomorrow. He was born and raised on the East Coast and never went to college. He realized he was good at carpentry after taking shop class in high school and helping a buddy of his out with a job at his apartment.

I'm intrigued by everything he tells me about himself, but I'm also captivated by his rugged good looks. His skin still has a small gleam of a tan to it from working outside this summer. The fine lines and wrinkles in his skin show wisdom instead of age, since he couldn't be older than thirty. His hands are rough and calloused, and I can imagine them gripping my soft skin.

Chills go up the center of my back just thinking about it.

I tell him a little about me, too. How I live with my best friends, never went to college, and have worked here for a few years. He asks why I'm not with my family on the other side of the country this Christmas and I explain how I couldn't afford it. His eyes wander over my appearance and he gives me a crooked smirk, as if to let me know he thinks differently based on my appearance.

And the hours seem to fly by.

Chloe comes up behind me as I'm handing Gunnar a Coke. He switched from whiskey to soda two hours ago. When I asked him why, he winked at me and took a sip of his soda.

"We're closing, girly. I think you need to tell the hunky piece of man-meat that he needs to go so we can close up and get out of here."

Vinnie, our boss, comes out from the back and confirms how late it is. How can it be two in the morning already? I feel like I just got here.

Turning towards Gunnar I smile apologetically. "I think you better get out of here so we can close up."

I don't want him to leave. God, I never want him to leave. I can't explain how, but I somehow know we were meant to meet. It's got to be more than a coincidence that he comes into my bar just a few days after I asked Santa for a bad boy for Christmas.

He stands up from his bar stool and pulls out a wallet from his back pocket. After sliding out several bills he tucks his wallet back in his pocket and walks behind the bar until he's standing right in front of me. We no longer have a barrier between us.

I know I need to say something. Only employees are allowed behind the bar and if Vinnie sees him right now he'll get crazy mad and probably fire me for letting him back here.

Looking up into Gunnar's smoldering dark eyes I open my mouth to protest him being back here, but nothing falls passed my lips. Instead, his arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me to him. His hand falls on my backside, but then I realize he's slipping the cash that was in his hand into my back pocket.

He's nearly a foot taller than my small, petite frame and our height difference immediately makes me feel safe. Even though he's basically a stranger, came behind the bar without permission, and could easily take advantage of this situation, I know I can trust him.

His head lowers as his mouth hovers over my ear and he whispers, "I think I'll stick around until you're done closing up, darling."

My body's stiff and I don't respond as his arm loosens its hold and his body disconnects from mine. He walks back over to his seat and sits down, finishing his coke as I finish closing up the bar with Chloe.

I'm trying to calm my body down from being so close to him. The way just his touch ignites every cell within me isn't natural.

Vinnie comes out to check on us a little while later. When he sees Gunnar still sitting at the bar I can tell he wants to say something, but one more look at the bad boy bar patron and he shuts his mouth and goes back into the back office.

Jeez, Vinnie. Good to know you would keep us safe if Gunnar were actually a threat.

When I finish up all my side work and the bar is sparkly clean, I head to the back to grab my things with Chloe.

"Why is bar hottie still here?" she asks me as she slips on her cream and white fluffy coat. The light, neutral colors somehow make her purple hair stick out even more.

"I think...I think he's going to take me home."

"What?" she practically screams.

"He stuck around for me, Chloe, and I like him."

"Morgan..." She trails off hesitantly before continuing, "I don't think this is a good idea. You don't know him at all. He spent Christmas Eve in our bar instead of with family or friends. These are red flags, girly. Serial killers, pedophiles, and ex-cons are usually the type of men we expect to serve on nights like this."

"He's not any of those things, Chlo. He's a good guy. I know it, and he's exactly the type of guy I've been looking for."

"So what? Just because he's some bad boy who walked in here on Christmas Eve means that you need to sleep with him?"

"I never said I was going to sleep with him. I said I was going to leave with him. We'll see where the night takes us."

She drags a hand through her short pixie cut before rolling her artificial green eyes at me. "I want it down on record that I thought this was a bad idea. You call me if there's any trouble. I mean it."

"I will, Chloe, but don't worry. There won't be any trouble."

"You are going to come home though, right? Because we have a lot of fun things planned for our roommate Christmas celebration."

"No, we don't, but yes, I am coming home. Don't worry so much. I have my phone if I need you."

"Well, if I don't hear from you by nine in the morning I'm calling the police. We have his handsome mug on the bar's security cameras. Make sure you let him know that."

I smile before wrapping my hands around her body and hugging my best friend. "Okay, I'll let him know."

I slip on my black winter coat before placing the strap of my purse on my shoulder as we both head back out front to the bar. Gunnar is sitting on a stool typing on his phone. When he hears the swinging door squeak he looks up and grins in our direction.

"You ready to go, beautiful?"

I hesitate, wondering if maybe Chloe is right. Maybe this is a bad idea. I know absolutely nothing about him and just because he's exactly what I asked Santa for, does that really mean I should go home with him?

Just as I'm about to second-guess everything, Vinnie's back office door opens and I hear the faint sounds of the original version of _Santa Baby_ sung by Eartha Kitt. I let her soft, sultry voice take me away and I realize this is another sign. Gunnar is my alpha. I asked Santa for a bad boy and I got it. It would be wrong to turn Santa's gift away.
Chapter Five

He opens the passenger side door and I take a step up into his big, blue truck. His hands grip my hips to help guide me in. Closing the door behind me he climbs into the driver's side and starts the truck. The windows are covered in snow and ice, and I shiver in my coat as I patiently wait for the truck to heat up and the snow to melt off the windows.

"I half expected you to be on a motorcycle," I mumble as my teeth chatter together from the cold. I'm glad I'm wearing red lipstick because my lips underneath must be purple and blue from the cold.

"My Harley's in the garage. Can't really drive the thing when it's snowing."

Wow. I was making an assumption about the bike. I wasn't sure if he actually had one. He's looking more and more like the bad boy I wanted for Christmas.

He opens the truck door again and slips out to scrape the snow and ice off the windows. The truck is starting to warm up, which is good because my lips were starting to go numb. I can't have numb lips around Gunnar just in case he decides to kiss me. I want to make sure I feel each soft caress of his lips when they're on mine.

When Gunnar gets back in the truck and starts to drive away I ask, "Aren't you going to ask me where I want to go?"

He glances over at me before his eyes fall back on the dark road in front of him. "No. I know where you want to go and we'll get there..." he says trailing off. I let the promise of what to expect later warm my insides. "But we're going to get food first."

My stomach grumbles at the idea of food and I realize I haven't eaten anything since lunch. Usually, I'll munch on something at work since we offer a limited menu of appetizers, but I was so busy flirting with Gunnar that I forgot to eat.

Gunnar.

He's too cute in his work t-shirt and jeans stained in different wood varnishes. His left arm is resting on his leg as he steers with his right hand. All the muscles in his right arm stand out as he turns the wheel to make a left into the Denny's parking lot.

What qualities was it again that I told Santa my bad boy had to have?

_A Strong man with chiseled arms._ ✔

_Dark, smoldering eyes._ ✔

_A_ panty-melting smile. ✔

_Illusion of being dangerous._ ✔

_Pulls me by the hair, ravishes me with his tongue and knows where my g-spot is?_ Hopefully I'll be checking those off, too!

Gunnar is exactly what I asked for physically, and if he ends up being good in bed he'll be the perfect bad boy for me. I still can't believe I said all of that to Carl, I mean Santa. But I guess I can't be too mad because saying it to Carl is what brought this dream man into my life.

"Are you just going to sit here and stare, or do you want to go in and eat something, darling?"

I snap out of my thoughts and look over at him standing between the passenger door and me. It's freezing outside and still lightly snowing, but he's standing in just a t-shirt and jeans, opening the truck door for me like a gentleman. But something in his smirk lets me know he's not some pushover like the men I've dated in the past.

"Sorry. I was just–"

"You were thinking about me. I'm not going to complain, darling, but I'd like to take you inside and eat so I can eat you for dessert back at my place."

My throat tightens and body flushes with anticipation.

Did he really just say that?

My southern region is warm and tingly just thinking about it.

We make our way inside and Gunnar orders us both a Holiday Slam with entirely too much food for me to consume. I eat as much as I possibly can but I still have half a plate left of food, while Gunnar's plate is empty.

"I couldn't possibly eat another bite," I groan, leaning back into the booth.

Gunnar pushes his plate towards the end of the table and grabs mine before lifting a piece of sausage up to his mouth. "I won't let it go to waste. I'll need the fuel for what I have planned for you."

He's so sure of himself and his confidence is incredibly sexy. I've done nothing to shoot down his implications so I can't be shocked when he continues to make small comments for what lies ahead.

As Gunnar finishes my meal I take the time to look around the restaurant. We're one of only four tables occupied at this early hour in the morning and the three waitresses on shift are standing over by the breakfast bar talking and drinking coffee.

I wonder what their plans are for Christmas. Will they be going home and sleeping, or are they expected to cook a lavish dinner for their family and friends? Do their loved ones appreciate how hard they work?

Gunnar finishes everything on my plate and then we talk while waiting for our waitress to bring over the check.

"What time do you have to be home today?" he asks as his hand moves close to mine and his fingertips graze along my palm, sending another jolt of electricity through my body.

"Chloe said if she doesn't hear from me by nine she's going to call the police, so I guess we have until nine."

"I can work with nine, but I promise you won't get any sleep in that short amount of time."

Why does every promise that crosses his lips ignite desire instead of fear? I've never gone home with someone I just met. He'll be the first, but instead of that thought scaring me, having my guard down with him just makes me want him more.

Our waitress comes over and hands Gunnar the bill. Her hair is up in a clip and the dark circles under her eyes indicate how tired she is, but she still greets us with a smile and thanks us for eating at Denny's. Gunnar gets up to pay at the counter and when he comes back he tosses four twenties down on the table. He grabs my hand and we walk out of the restaurant.

He tipped her over four times the amount of the bill. While I appreciate a good tip, even I know an eighty-dollar tip on a nineteen-dollar bill is ridiculous. It makes me wonder what kind of tip he put in my back pocket earlier.

He opens the door to his truck and I move around him, stepping up to climb into the truck. His strong hands land on my hips and he pulls me back down before turning me around in his arms so we're facing each other. His breath smells like whiskey and mint and I close my eyes to inhale the sweet smell.

When I open my eyes he's looking down at me knowingly. His right hand moves from my hip, slipping underneath my open coat. He glides his hand up the side of my body and over my neck until he's cupping my cheek. His face draws in closer to me and I glance down at his lips, hoping he's going to make a move, and then look back up into his dark, sexy eyes.

"What is it about you that's making you so hard to resist right now," he whispers and the words fall against my lips. I breathe them in and then his lips are on mine, kissing me softly and sweetly. Not exactly what I imagined the first kiss with my bad boy would be like, but not worthy of a complaint right now because his lips on mine feel like heaven.

He coaxes my lips open with his tongue and then we taste each other. His tongue meets mine assuredly and then he bites down on my lip hungrily. His hand on my cheek moves to the back of my neck and he pulls me further into him as he takes control of the kiss. His lips move against mine in an intense battle for more.

He can have more. He can have whatever he wants.

If he wants to throw me in the truck and take me I'd let him. I'd let him do just about anything right now.

My hands move over his body. My arms touching and squeezing the strong, lean muscles in his arms before trailing over his shoulders and down his defined abs.

Okay, he for sure has a six-pack. A six-pack I want to play with and lick a trail down until I reach a better toy to play with.

As my hands reach the band of his jeans he groans against my mouth and pulls back. My eyes flutter open and I pull back, trying to catch my breath from the most amazing first kiss I've ever experienced.

"Is everything okay?" I ask hesitantly, not knowing the reason he pulled back. It's been my experience that when making out with a guy they usually encourage action below the waist.

"Everything's fine, darling. But you're something special and deserve to be treated that way. I'm not going to fool around with you, or fuck you in my backseat like some trash I met for a one-time thing. Let's go back to my place and I can take my time with you. Show you what you've been missing so that when you wake up after a night with me...you'll be asking me for more."

I want that. Boy, do I want that.

I nod my head, giving him my silent response and turn back around to climb in the truck. This time, after he's helped me up into the truck, he slaps my ass before closing the door and walking over to the driver's side.

My soft, plump flesh is gently stinging from the impact, but it's a good sting. It has my body craving what he'll give me next and my panties damp with desire.

I can't wait to get back to his place.
Chapter Six

The drive to Gunnar's place is a little longer than I expected at this time of night. The radio is on low, tuned to a station that's playing Christmas music. As we're going over the bridge into New York I have a brief moment of doubt. Suddenly I'm wondering if going home with him is a bad idea. Does it make me look easy? Will he want anything to do with me in the morning?

"You should probably turn around and drive me home," I blurt out before he looks at me with his sultry eyes and I no longer have the courage to say it.

Keeping his eyes focused on the road he responds, "But you and I both know you don't want to go home, so I'm not taking you."

He's so right. How does a man who met me only a few hours ago know me so well?

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, darling." He drawls out the end of darling and I melt inside. "Your breathing falters when I draw you into me, your eyes look longingly at me when you think I'm not looking, and if I were to rip your panties off right now I bet they'd be wet in anticipation for what the next few hours have ahead of us."

"Wow," I faintly whisper, amazed at just how right he is.

_Please Come Home for Christmas_ starts playing on the radio and I chuckle under my breath, amused at how the music tonight has been right on point to the situations I've put myself in. It's like the Christmas music angels are guiding me and telling me what to do.

Well, if they want me to go home with this sexy bad boy then I'm not going to fight it anymore. Especially since Santa brought him to me.

I hum quietly along with the music; afraid I might ruin the peacefulness in the air by saying the wrong thing. Gunnar finishes the drive with his left hand as his right hand comes down to rest on my thigh. His fingers trail up and down my inner thigh, squeezing every once in a while as he slowly builds my desire for him.

He knows exactly what he's doing to my body and if we don't get to his place soon I might combust.

When he finally stops in front of a brownstone in Manhattan I'm shocked at the area in the city he lives. He must make really good money. I mean, really good money. I was expecting to pull into a rundown house on the outside of the city. That would fit his bad boy persona more than a brownstone in Manhattan.

"You live here?" I ask curiously.

"Darling, why would I bring you here if I didn't live here?"

"It just doesn't...seem...like a place you'd live in," I respond, pointing a finger up and down the length of his body.

"Don't judge a book by its cover. I can afford this place and I like living here, and although it's very snobby-looking on the outside, the inside is anything but. Come on."

We make it up his front steps and inside the front door. I'm barely able to glance at the black walls in his entrance before he pushes me up against the back of his front door. I drop my purse as his hands wrap around my body, one hand on my ass and the other around my neck, as he pushes himself flush against my body and his mouth crashes against mine.

His lips are firm and demanding. He coaxes my red lips apart with his tongue and takes my mouth like he needs to taste more of me. It's wild and inhibited, and I love every second of his lips on mine.

Parting my legs, I hitch one leg up and around his hip so my calf is against his ass, groaning when he pushes his hard length against me. I can feel every inch of him as he grinds himself against my core.

I moan out in pleasure, unable to control the sounds leaving my mouth. He has me so wound up that I might not even need him to touch me before I come, and that would be embarrassing. Shimmying out of my coat I continue to enjoy every touch and caress his hands and lips give me.

He shifts his weight as his hand on my ass and the hand around my neck both move to my waist. His palms fall back on my ass and he lifts me up, forcing my other leg to wrap around him so I'm hugging his hips with my thighs. He's holding me up completely and I sigh out in frustration as he thrusts his hips forward and his hard cock teases my covered center.

He's...big. And I bet having that big erection inside me will fill the void I've been feeling lately.

My mouth moves away from his as his lips brush against my cheek, then down my neck, sending unexplainable amounts of pleasure through my body. It barely registers in my mind that we're moving.

He takes the stairs up, two at a time, while he continues to kiss my sensitive flesh. I hold onto him, my nails clawing at his back and neck hoping he doesn't drop me, but then his lips graze my ear and I forget all about where we are and where we're headed. All I can think about is what else his mouth can do to me.

When we reach the top of the landing my hands move off his body and his lips leave my flesh as he pulls away to see why I stopped touching him. My fingers grip the hem of my shirt and I lift it up and over my head, leaving my top half in only a sheer green bra.

I would have worn something a little sexier if I had known any of this was going to happen, but at least it's sheer and he can see my hard nipples through the material.

His eyes wander over my chest, lingering on my perky tits as he lets out a deep, satisfied groan. Unable to control himself, his lips come down to lick one of my hard nipples through the sheer material. He repeats his tongue's assault on the other nipple and then his mouth crashes back on mine as we fumble through his bedroom door and he tosses me down on the bed.

He rips his work t-shirt off, followed by his shoes, jeans and boxers, leaving him gloriously naked in front of me. As I take in every defined muscle I wonder why he owns a carpentry business. It's a huge disservice to other men and women around the world. He should be teaching other men how to achieve a body like his, and he should be screwing as many women as he possibly can so every woman can be lucky enough to experience him, even if only for a brief moment.

As my eyes trail over his firm quads I get my first look at the hard length that was poking and prodding at my core just a few minutes before.

Holy shit, he's perfect.

He's long, thick, and firm. I intuitively know that once he's inside me he'll know exactly where to find my g-spot and how to make me come.

I quickly pull off the bar apron around my waist and then go to the top button on my jeans.

"Stop," he commands in his husky voice and I immediately let go of the button. "I want to take every piece of clothing off you."

He moves in closer and I can't help but fidget in anticipation of having his hard-working hands on my body. I lay back on the large bed adorned in neutral sheets as he crawls over my body and plants a chaste kiss on my lips. I try to move in for a longer kiss but his lips move down my body, kissing my neck in a way that shouldn't be legal. Then his mouth moves to my chest, his lips lingering on each nipple as he bites down on the hard nubs. His hands move the straps of my bra, pushing each one off my shoulders and down my arms. His palms come up to cup each of my heavy breasts and then his lips move away from my breasts, kissing lower down my body.

His mouth lingers on my soft stomach right below my belly button. His warm breath and soft lips cause me to squirm with need. Then he bites down on the top of my jeans as his hand grabs the other side and undoes the top button. His mouth moves to the zipper and I look down my body to watch what he's going to do next. He pulls the zipper of my jeans down with his teeth, and then his tongue comes out and meets the flesh of my lower stomach to lick a trail back up my body.

"Sit up," he commands.

I listen and sit up on the bed. His strong hands come around my body and land on the clasp of my bra in the back. He unfastens the clasp and pulls my bra the rest of the way off my body, leaving my breasts bare to him. I'm eagerly waiting for his next move but he's content just looking at me, his eyes focused on my breasts that are swollen and craving to be touched again.

"Lay back down," he demands firmly.

I fall back on the bed and his hands land back on my jeans. He grips the waist and pulls them completely off, taking my shoes off at the same time. I'm left only in my sheer green panties. If he were to look close enough he'd be able to see the material between my legs damp with arousal.

He kisses his way back up my body, his lips leaving open mouth kisses on my calves, then my knees, and all the way up my inner thighs. When he reaches the space between my legs his mouth moves to the top of my panties. He bites down on the sheer material and begins to pull the green panties down my body. Planting my feet firmly on the bed, I lift my butt to help him remove the last piece of clothing between us.

Once the tiny shred of green material is removed I'm about to lose it. I don't know if I can take another minute of his teasing. I want him inside me now.

But Gunnar has other ideas. His hands land on my thighs and he spreads my legs apart as his mouth moves over my bare mound.

I wasn't expecting him to go down on me tonight. We just met and it usually takes me weeks after I start having sex with someone to get him to agree to oral sex.

Gunnar's calloused hands massage my inner thighs and his rough skin against my smooth skin creates a perfect friction. I feel his tongue brush against my clit, and I hum out his name in elation.

His tongue continues to work me over and over, back and forth, up and down, until he starts to lick firm circles over my clit and I feel the build-up of an orgasm slowly approaching.

"Gunnar," I sigh, unable to control the heavy need in my voice.

One of his hands moves from my thigh and he brings it to my pulsing center. He coaxes my opening until I'm wet and waiting for him, and then he plunges two fingers deep inside me. The feeling is exhilarating. I tremble against his fingers and tongue, and I know when I explode he'll be covered in my juices.

His tongue continues to build me up. Just when I can't hold on any longer his fingers brush against that perfect spot inside me and I explode, thrusting my pussy over and over again against his tongue, basking in the pleasure of what he just gave me.

I don't have time to come down from the high as Gunnar flips me over so I'm on my stomach and pulls my hips up until I feel his erection against my ass. Supporting myself with my forearms I push myself up on all fours just as Gunnar plunges his fingers back inside me. He thrusts them in and out, fingering me slowly.

After gradually building me back up again, his fingers leave my pussy and trail over to my backside, circling my forbidden area. I stiffen when one of his fingertips covered in my juices trails over the puckered hole. He does nothing but tease that entrance and I start to relax, enjoying the soft, pleasurable sensation his fingertip is giving me.

"Do you want more?" he asks as his chest covers my back and he kisses the back of my neck.

"More?" I ask in return. "More what?"

He doesn't answer. His lips leave a soft kiss between my shoulder blades and then he pulls back. His hand on my ass leaves me briefly and I feel the tip of his hard cock slide inside my swollen pussy. It's just the tip of him but it's the start of everything I could ever want from this man.

He pulls out briefly and then he thrusts back inside, but this time it's not just the head of his cock. He's thrust fully inside me, filling me completely with his shaft. It's the most pleasurable, yet slightly painful feeling I've ever felt and I wiggle my hips, begging him to move inside me.

He gets the hint and starts to fuck me in long, deep thrusts. Each time he moves, I slowly start to feel another orgasm building. He leans over my body and starts to place soft, delicate kisses all over my back. It's an incredibly vulnerable moment for me. This position is usually used for primal fucking, but with the way he's making out with my back I can't help but hope he thinks it's more.

He has to have feelings for me, because I have intense, indescribable feelings for him.

Once he's covered every inch of my bare back in kisses, he leans back up and starts to fuck me faster and harder. He wraps one arm around my front and slides it down my stomach until his index finger is playing with my clit. His other hand moves back to the crack of my ass.

This time I don't stiffen as his fingertips trail up and down my crack. The caress is more pleasurable than I ever thought it could be. When he travels back to my puckered hole I'm surprised with my body's reaction as I push my ass back further into his hand, giving him my blessing to do whatever he wants with me.

He takes the gesture of encouragement and inserts one of his fingers in my back entrance. The feeling of fullness is insanely pleasurable and filling, and with his next thrust I scream out in rapture as I come on his hard cock.

"Morgan," he grunts out as he comes after me, shooting his seed deep inside me as I milk him dry.

I collapse down on the bed and he falls with me, his body covering mine and the weight of him feels surprisingly nice. When we're both done panting from our amazing sex session he slides off me and onto his side. His arms wrap around my torso and he pulls me into him so his chest is pressed up to my back.

My body and mind are spent from the amazing tumble on the sheets we just experienced together. He covers us both with a blanket and I drift off into a blissful sleep, happy to be in the arms of my bad boy, if only for a few hours.
Chapter Seven

I roll my head from side to side as I'm woken up by the _Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays_ ringtone I had put on my phone at the beginning of the month for when one of my roommates call me. I'm not sure what time it is but I'm sure it's one of them calling me because it's Christmas morning and I'm not at home like we had planned. The right thing to do would be find my phone and pick it up so I can both assure them I'm safe and let them know I'll be home soon. Unfortunately for them, I'm tucked nice and cozy in Gunnar's arms and I'm too comfortable to move.

The song stops just to start up again and with my eyes closed I'm wondering why I can hear it so clearly. Last night I dropped my purse on the floor by his front door, too spellbound by Gunnar to think about anything else but him. But by how clearly I can hear my phone I know it is in this room, close by.

He must have brought my things up.

I should get up and get it. They're not going to stop calling until I pick up, or worse, they're going to actually call the police and report me missing, with Gunnar as my kidnapper.

Gunnar's arm that's wrapped around me lifts off my body and then I hear his groggy morning voice say, "Hello."

Damn, his voice is even sexier when he's just woken up.

"Yeah, she's right here next to me."

Crap! He must be on my phone.

I turn over to face him and he's lying on his back with his left hand holding my phone to his ear. His right arm is still stuck between my body and the mattress. "There's no need for that, Chloe. She's safe here with me."

I reach out for the phone as my eyebrows lift expectantly. He gently swats my hand away as he continues talking to Chloe. "We didn't know how late it was...yes, I know you were worried...no, you don't need to do that. You're being dramatic. She's fine." His eyes drift slowly up and down my naked body in bed next to him as he continues, "Actually, she's better than fine. She's perfect."

My face softens and I decide to let him talk to Chloe for me. He doesn't need my help with her. He seems to be handling her appropriately.

"Okay, yeah, we'll be there. Just give us a little time to get over there...No, this isn't a stall tactic...No, I didn't chop her body in little pieces and scatter the remains in the forest. That's sick, babe, and Morgan's too hot to even think about damaging her beautiful, soft skin." He chuckles at that last part but if I know Chloe she's freaking out right about now.

"Hold on," he says into my phone and then taps the screen to put the phone on speaker. "Say hi, Morgan."

I look over at him and shake my head at the perfectly understandable hoops Chloe is making him jump through, but Gunnar seems put off by her not trusting him.

"Hi, Chlo. I'm fine and safe. I'll be back at the apartment soon."

He takes the phone off speaker and places it back to his ear, as he mutters, "Not too soon, though. I still have plans for your girl before we head over to your place." He taps the phone to end the call, not even giving Chloe a chance to respond to his last comment.

"You have plans for me, do you?" I ask, smiling over at him. My eyes are bright with excitement, wondering exactly what plans he has for me.

"Oh yeah," he replies, grinning back at me. "I don't think I made you sore enough last night. We need to rectify that, darling."

I giggle at his dirty remark as I sit up in bed, stretching my arms up over my head. "I think I'm plenty sore. Every muscle in my body is screaming right now."

I stand up with every intention to look for my clothes, but Gunnar wraps his arms around my hips and pulls me back on the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To find my clothes, which are scattered all around your house."

"Nope, I don't think so. What I have planned for us doesn't require clothing." He brushes my hair off one of my shoulders, revealing my bare skin as his lips come down to kiss my flesh softly.

"You need to drive me back to my apartment before...Chloe...really does freak out and...call the police." His mouth is distracting me from what we should be doing. "And I'd like to shower...before we head out."

His mouth moves up the back of my neck before his lips suck on my earlobe. "Then let's bring this into the shower and kill two birds with one stone."

Before I can come up with a witty retort he's picking me up and rushing us over to the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He starts the water in the shower while still holding me and then we step into the bitter cold stream of water coming from the shower head.

"Shit, that's cold." My body feels like I'm having buckets of ice water dumped on me over and over again.

"I'll warm you up, darling."

He places me back on the ground and then one of his hands wraps around the back of my head and he's pulling my lips towards his. Our mouths tangle together; each caress of his lips feels better than the last as I succumb to his plan of seduction in the shower.

He's right. He is warming me up.

The water starts to warm up, too, as his hand on the back of my head grips my hair and pulls it back, exposing the front of my neck to his waiting lips. He kisses, and nips, and licks his way down my throat and to my collarbone, before slowly making love to my chest. His hands move to my breasts as he holds them up for him to feast on and my head falls back as I sigh out in pleasure, wanting more...needing more.

The things he's doing to my body are unexplainable but I know I never want him to stop. One of his hands trails down my stomach and passed my pubic bone, until one of his long fingers lands on my throbbing bundle of nerves. He massages my clit back and forth and I start to feel that warm sensation below as my orgasm starts to build.

My hands come up to pull on his hair, bringing his lips back to mine as I kiss him wildly, my tongue chasing his delicious taste like my clit is chasing an orgasm. He pulls away and turns me over so I can no longer see his perfect face and flawless body.

"Put your hands on the wall," he commands and I listen, placing my palms at eye level on the granite tile. He pulls my ass towards him and in one thrust he's inside me, filling me with his magical sword. I arch my back, pushing my tits up against the cold tile, and then his hands are wrapping around my chest and cupping my plump breasts.

After every couple thrusts he pulls and pinches my nipples, shooting little sparks of desire through my veins and straight to my pussy. It's not long until I'm screaming out in exultation as my body hums from the blissful orgasm he just gave me.

On top of Gunnar being the perfect bad boy, he's also exactly what I needed to get over my sour mood this Christmas. He fucked my bad mood out of me and replaced it with the gift of orgasms.

Gunnar pulls out and I notice he never came inside me. Turning around I look down at his long, hard length and smile up at him while fluttering my long, wet eyelashes at him. He waited to come, probably to give me a few more orgasms but I want to give him a present since he's given me so many in the last twelve hours.

I fall down on my knees and grab his length, fisting him in my palm as I lean forward and lick the tip of his stunning cock. I moan at the salty, delicious taste of him mixed with my juices. My tongue licks the tip over and over again before I wrap my lips around the head and suck hard.

"Fuck," he groans out as his head falls back against the other side of the shower. The taste of him mixed with his sounds of pleasure has my core aching for more. His eyes are closed tight as he hardens to steel in my palm. Small trickles of water are gliding down his body and I wish I could lick every drop, but we'll have time for that another day. Right now I want to feel my bad boy come down my throat.

Parting my lips wide I feed him to me with my hand until the tip of his cock touches the back of my throat. Closing my lips around him I start to suck and slide him in and out of my mouth, my fist holding the base of his cock and mirroring what I'm doing with my mouth since he's too large to fit completely down my throat. My other hand comes up, trailing soft, teasing patterns over his balls before I grip him in my hand and massage them together.

He continues to grunt and groan at the sensation, and when I feel him getting close he leans in, hovering over my body as he holds the back of my head to take control. He starts to pump his cock in and out of my mouth.

I take it all, wanting to give him this gift for Christmas and enjoying every minute of it as well. I'm getting hornier every time the tip of him meets the back of my throat. His pleasure brings me pleasure. It's a gift for both of us and I can't wait to taste his cum as it shoots across my tongue.

"Fuck, Morgan... Get ready, darling." He thrusts one more time and then he grunts in pleasure as the first taste of his seed slides down the back of my tongue and throat. I continue to suck him off until I've devoured every last drop of his creamy goodness.

Licking my lips I stand up and he crushes his mouth to mine, not even caring that small traces of him are still lingering on my lips and in my mouth. I wish we had more time. My body is screaming for him to take me again.

"That was incredible," he whispers across my lips. When he finally pulls away I agree with him.

"It was absolutely amazing. Merry Christmas, Gunnar."

"Merry Christmas, darling."
Chapter Eight

After our morning sex session in the shower we get dressed and Gunnar feeds me a breakfast of Frosted Brown Sugar and Cinnamon Pop-Tarts and coffee. Then we get my things and head back to my apartment in Jersey.

_Let it Snow_ plays on the radio and I'm quiet for most of the drive as sadness starts to creep in at the thought of having to say goodbye to Gunnar in a few short minutes. I'll be spending Christmas with my roommates and he'll be doing whatever he had planned for Christmas. We never discussed what would happen from here. Would he call me? Was this just a fling?

God, I really want this to be much, much more than a fling.

When we pull up to my apartment complex he surprises me by driving around to the lot across the street and parking his truck before turning off the engine. He gets out of the truck and walks around to open the passenger door for me.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I hop down from the truck and stand in front of him in a pile of white, fluffy snow. He looks nice in his clean pair of jeans and long sleeve t-shirt, while I'm stuck in yesterday's work clothes.

"Going inside with you, darling. What does it look like?"

"You really don't have to do that, Gunnar. I know you must already have plans for the day and my roommates and I have a really boring Christmas planned."

Gunnar lets out a frustrated huff and pulls me into his body. I rest my chin on his chest before looking up at him and into his smoldering eyes that hypnotize me every time I look at them. He brings one hand up to rest against my cheek as he looks into my whiskey brown eyes he loves so much.

"Are we doing this, babe, or not?"

"Doing what?"

"I'm feeling you and you're feeling me. There's something special between us and I want to see where this might go. I know you do, too."

He couldn't be more right. I just never expected him to feel the same way. Especially since we hardly know anything about each other. But none of that really matters because right now all I know is that I want him. I want him in my life. He's exactly what I've been looking for and he makes me feel incredible just by being around him.

"You're right. I want that, too," I respond as I go up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. The kiss is brief and his scruff scratches my cheeks in a pleasurable way before he pulls away from me and gives me his signature smirk.

"Okay, then cut the shit and say what you want. You never have to hide your feelings or thoughts from me." He grabs my hand in his before shutting the truck door. "You want me in there for Christmas and I want to be wherever you are. That should be a good enough reason to go in together."

He wants to be wherever I am. My heart swoons at hearing this.

We walk across the street to the front of my apartment building and I let go of his hand and turn towards him. Throwing my arms around his neck, I leap on him and plant a hard, chaste kiss on his lips. "I can't believe how happy I am to be with you when we've known each other less than twenty-four hours."

He chuckles at my giddiness and presses a kiss to my lips. "Me too, babe. But I don't want to dwell on what I'm feeling for you after such a short time. I've accepted it. I'm just glad I met you last night, darling."

"Me too." I hop off him and we make our way into my apartment building. _Jingle Bell Rock_ is playing on the intercom system as we take the elevator up to my floor. Using my key we enter the apartment and three heads twist in our direction. My roommates are standing over the counter in their green and red Christmas pajamas eating popcorn.

Chloe smiles from ear to ear when she sees the two of us together and I just roll my eyes before looking over at my other two roommates and best friends.

Hannah hasn't even registered I'm here as her eyes are locked on Gunnar beside me, her mouth open in shock. I know exactly what she must be thinking and I can't blame her. He's gorgeous.

Lauren's reaction is not what I expected. She's looking back and forth between us with a puzzled expression on her face. "Mr. Steel, what are you doing here?" she asks as her eyes are trained on Gunnar.

He clears his throat and responds, "I was invited by Morgan. You must be one of her roommates. How are you, Lauren?"

Wait, what? They know each other?

"Good, thanks. I put the invoice for the VFW project on your desk before I left the other night. Everything should be in order for next week."

"Don't worry about it. We shouldn't be talking business on Christmas."

Business? Wait...what?

I turn towards Gunnar. "How do you and Lauren know each other?"

Before he can respond, Lauren speaks up from her spot near the counter as she pops another piece of popcorn in her mouth. "He's my boss, Morgan. He's Gunnar Steel of Steel Carpentry."

I turn towards her, still just as confused as before. "I thought you were a secretary for a construction business?"

"Jeez, Morgan. We've gone over this so many times. Carpentry, not construction. Gunnar is my boss."

"He's the hottie boss you've been talking about this past year?" Chloe asks, clearly just as shocked as I am.

Lauren's cheeks flush red from embarrassment. "Thanks a lot, Chloe," she mumbles in mortification.

Chloe realizes she probably shouldn't have announced Lauren's crush on her boss in front of her boss. Lauren has a boyfriend anyway, so it really is just an innocent crush.

"It's okay, Lauren," Gunnar says from beside me. "Let's just forget about it and move forward with the holiday celebration. Morgan said you ladies have a fun day planned."

Lauren and Hannah laugh as Chloe walks over to me and throws her arms around my chest in a sloppy hug. "Hey, girly. So glad he turned out not to be a serial killer," she slurs.

"You should probably slow it down on the eggnog, Chlo."

She hiccups and then covers her mouth in a giggling fit before handing me her glass of eggnog. I put the glass to my lips and sip the remainder of the holiday drink.

"Did you tell your bad boy that Santa brought him to you for Christmas?" Chloe asks.

Now it's my turn to blush.

I look over at Gunnar to see if he heard what my big mouth friend said. He watches me amused before taking a step toward me and it's now that I realize we're both under the mistletoe. Mistletoe I know wasn't there yesterday when I left for work because we didn't decorate the apartment.

"What is this about Santa bringing you a bad boy for Christmas?"

Shrugging my shoulders I look down between us before replying, "It's a boring story."

His fingers fall on my chin as he lifts it up so he can look right into my eyes. "Lucky for you I love boring stories."

Smiling at this gorgeous man I reply, "Well, it all started with a crying child, a drunk mall Santa, a seat on Santa's lap, and a list of all the qualities I wanted in a bad boy for Christmas."

I'm unable to finish my explanation as Gunnar crushes his mouth to mine and I let our lips do all of the talking for us as we stand underneath the mistletoe.

This Christmas will go down as the best Christmas ever. The last twenty-four hours have restored my belief that the alpha men written in my favorite novels do exist. It's also restored my faith in Santa Claus. Okay, maybe not "Santa Claus", but it definitely restored my faith in drunken bar patrons dressed up as Santa for the holidays.
The End

Happy Holidays!!!
**If you enjoyed** _Santa Baby, I Want A Bad Boy For Christmas_ **please consider leaving a review. Reviews are a great way to let other readers know what to read next.**

Other books by Justine Elvira

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Lane One: Temptation (Lane One #1)–FREE

Lane One: Seduction (Lane One #2)

Lane One: Obsession (Lane One #3)

Lane One: Devotion (Lane One #4)

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Underground Attraction

Noah (Forbidden Desires #1)

Levi (Forbidden Desires #2)

Mr. Tucker– _a sexy student/teacher romance_

### Turn the page for a sneak peek of Noah!

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### Noah (Forbidden Desires #1)

No.

It's a small word that says so much.

It's a word most of us don't use when we should.

It's a word that could have kept my life on an easy path.

No is the word I should have said...

But it never left my lips that night.

Now I'm torn between two men. One is tender, sweet, and dependable. The other is rough, dirty, and unreliable. One man will lead me to the life I've always planned. The other man will lead me to a life with wild new experiences.

I'm in this mess simply because I didn't say that one word at the right time. I couldn't resist him.

It would have been easier if I had said no.

I should have said no.

*Recommended for 18+ due to subject matter and sexual content.

### Prologue

Red.

Violent streaks of red and orange cloud my vision, casting a fiery haze over everyone at the party.

Did _he_ really show up to my engagement party with some two-dollar tramp who wouldn't know classy if it bit her in the ass?

This is my day.

My party.

He may not agree with the choice I made. He doesn't have to agree with it, but he could at least show me the respect of not showing up to my engagement party with another woman.

He wants to hurt me. It's the only explanation.

"Skye and I are incredibly lucky to be celebrating our upcoming nuptials with our family and closest friends. We know some of you have traveled from out of state to be here and your love for us does not go unnoticed. We're truly touched you chose to celebrate with us tonight."

Caleb's arm that is wrapped around my waist pulls me in closer to him as his other hand squeezes my hip softly. Tilting my head I smile up at him encouragingly as he continues his speech to all of the important people in our lives. Caleb always knows just what to say.

I try to focus on his words, I really do...but it's hard when two brown orbs attached to a face with perfect soft lips tucked behind a coarse, sexy beard are staring intensely in my direction. Especially when those lips were kissing me yesterday, and then again this morning.

Yes, everyone in the room is staring up at Caleb and me, but _his_ eyes cut through me like no one else's can. He may be mad at me, he may want to talk to me, even though I've been trying my best to ignore the infuriating man all day, but that gives him no right to show up here with some whore and glare at me like I've done something wrong.

As Caleb continues to speak next to me, I watch below as the bimbo leans into _him_ at their table and rests her hand on his upper thigh, slowly inching her fingers up closer to his groin. I'm starting to see violent streaks of red again.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I look away disgusted and try to focus on the eloquent speech my fiancé is giving.

_He probably doesn't even know her name_...

God, why can't I focus?

The crowd all around us begins to clap with a few of Caleb's buddies whistling and hollering, as they hold on tight to their bottles of beer. Caleb's speech must be over. As great as tonight is, I wish I had a moment alone to process all of my thoughts.

Caleb's family approaches us first. His mother's short blond hair is slicked back. She's in a long pastel and sequined dress that covers most of her body. Draped over her neck is a sparkling diamond _Cartier_ necklace. I only know this because she loves to show and tell all the wealth she has and what she's acquired over the years.

Caleb's father stands next to her all stoic and serious in a three-piece suit. He's looking around the room, nodding in greeting to different people as they walk by.

"Skye, dear, I love how quaint this place is, but it's kind of stuffy in here. You knew how many people were going to be coming to this party, didn't you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Benton. I got each and every RSVP." She can't even get through one night without taking a dig at me.

"Then you should have talked to the management here and made sure they had the proper ventilation system required to accommodate all these people. You could have avoided this mess with just one phone call."

There is no mess to be avoided. Everyone seems to be having a good time. Maybe it's stuffy in here because of her big head and inflated ego.

I look up at Caleb, hoping he'll say something to stand up for me, but of course his mouth stays wired shut. He'll never stick up to his mother for me, no matter how horrible she treats me. After all, he has a trust fund to think of.

Sucking up my pride I respond, "You're absolutely right, ma'am. I'll remember that for the next party we throw." Hopefully it'll be her funeral. "If you'll excuse me, the stuffy air is getting to me, too. I'm going to step outside for a moment."

Squeezing past Caleb and his parents, I put my head down and walk briskly towards the side exit of the restaurant, wanting to avoid being stopped by any of the party's attendees. I also don't want to see _him_ again.

Reaching the side door that leads out to the patio, I push down on the metal bar and the solid black door opens for me. The cool night air hits my face and I immediately take in a deep breath, before exhaling out in relief. I am so glad to be away from everyone and out of that room.

I walk over to the railing and look out at the miles and miles of open green. When I booked this golf club it was because the Italian restaurant inside served the best Eggplant Parmesan I've ever tasted, and I wanted to impress Caleb's mother. She only tolerates the best and I thought this place was the best. I should have known nothing I booked would ever impress her.

My back is to the door so when I hear it open, hitting the outside of the building, I turn to see if I'll be forced to make small talk with someone. Noah walks out in black dress slacks and a black button down dress shirt. I can't even remember the last time I'd seen him so dressed up. He looks...good. I hate that he looks good.

His date to my engagement party is hanging all over him as he walks towards me across the dimly lit patio. I want to yell at his date to pull her dress down because it's too short, but that would only create a new problem and I'd have to find a way for her to cover the two water balloons trying to topple out of the top of her dress.

One of her hands is hidden somewhere inside the collar of his shirt, while her other hand plays with the buttons on the outside. This can't be a comfortable way to walk, which is obvious by the way she's stumbling in her heels trying to match every step he takes.

I bring my focus back on the man who really should not be here. "Noah," I say, glaring at him. Hopefully he's smart enough to realize I'm about to blow up at him if one wrong word slips by his tongue and out between those perfect lips.

"Skye," he greets me. His arm wrapped around his date tightens to bring her in closer to his firm body. "I didn't realize you were out here."

He so knew I was out here. His eyes have been on me all night, ignoring the bimbo next to him unless I was watching.

His arm-candy smiles at me, as if she's just noticed for the first time someone is out here with them. "Hi. Congratulations on your engagement. You look so pretty tonight and I love what you did with all the hanging lights in there," she says, releasing Noah's shirt to point back at the building. "It really adds to the ambiance. Hopefully one day I'll be able to have an engagement party as beautiful as this." She giggles and looks up at Noah, sending him a flirtatious wink.

This chick thinks she's going to be engaged to Noah one day?

I think I'm going to be sick.

Trying to look indifferent I chime in. "Last I checked Club Desire doesn't do engagement parties."

I'm just stating the obvious.

Noah's demeanor instantly changes. He stands taller, loosening his grip around his date as his eyes narrow on me. "What is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem. I just want to make sure your date knows that your club isn't the type to hold fancy celebrations...but I'm sure she assumed that already since she probably works for you." It would explain her inappropriate outfit.

Noah's eyes narrow further and his cheeks flush in anger, something that I've always found irresistible. His brown eyes never leave mine as he directs his next words to his date. "Xaria, why don't you go inside and get something to drink, while I finish talking to Skye. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

The way he viciously spits out my name makes me cower a little in fear. Maybe I went too far with that last dig.

Xaria watches us both with a puzzled look on her face, but she doesn't question Noah. Instead she turns around and walks back inside the same way she came out.

Once we're alone, Noah takes a step towards me. I quickly thrust my hands in front of me with my palms out. "Can we not do this tonight. It's my engagement party for God's sake."

He ignores my request and takes another step, and another step, until there are no more steps to take and he's standing right in front of me. I inhale his scent and I'm immediately dizzy with all the memories I have associated with that smell. I shouldn't be out here with him. It's not right...it isn't fair. But as his hand comes up to cup my cheek in a familiar act of tenderness, and his fingers grip my chin to bring my eyes up to meet his, I'm immediately reminded of why we work...and why it's so hard for me to see him here tonight.

"No, Skye. Today is your unbirthday party. You just want to tarnish the day with the celebration of your engagement."
Chapter One

Two months earlier

"Do you like that, baby?" he whispers against the sensitive spot below my ear. His mouth travels lower to kiss the back of my neck. My answer is a soft sigh as his body pushes me closer and closer to a sweet release with every deep, penetrating thrust.

Caleb inside me is one of my favorite ways to spend a lazy afternoon.

When I came home from work early this afternoon and slipped in bed to take a nap, his tender kisses woke me up surprisingly. In those first waking moments, when my eyelids flutter open and my pupils adjust to the light, I sometimes find myself reflecting over the day so far. But there are other afternoons, like today, when I'm startled awake by the soft hands of my boyfriend, as he wraps his arms around me and claims my body as his.

He takes his time, caressing every curve of my body with his fingertips, as he slowly takes me from behind. His left hand dips down to my swollen mound as his thumb plays with my clit and I feel my climax approaching. My head falls back on his shoulder and I close my eyes, ready for the feeling of ecstasy to take over. I reach back and wrap my hand around his head and knot my fingers in his hair, needing to hold on to something.

Chills run up my arms in anticipation of what's to come.

But then I'm ripped out of my happy place as the front door of our luxury apartment slams closed and I hear the low, sexy rumble of Noah's voice as he calls out from the front room, "Honey, I'm home."

I let out a frustrated, needy groan as Caleb chuckles gently against the back of my head. His thumb continues to move against my clit as he controls his laughter and yells back, "We'll be out in a minute, sugar."

Caleb's hips grind against my ass but the moment of extreme high is gone. There's no way I'll be able to finish, or even let Caleb finish, with Noah able to hear everything in the other room.

I grab Caleb's forearms and shove his hands away from my body before rolling away from him and climbing off the bed.

"What the hell, baby?"

"I'm not...finishing with him in the other room," I hiss, loud enough for Caleb to hear but quiet enough that Noah won't be able to.

Frustrated, Caleb drags a hand through his blond curly hair and slides off the bed to stand up. While I'm getting dressed, I toss him a t-shirt to throw on, and when he catches it he looks down at his hard cock. "What do you expect me to do about this? I'm not going out there with a hard-on." He fists his erection as if to show me exactly what he means and I roll my eyes as I finish throwing on sweats and a t-shirt.

"Go take care of it in the bathroom and I'll keep your buddy company."

Caleb's facial expression softens as he strolls over to me and rests his hands on my shoulders. "Come on, baby. He can wait two more minutes. Let me have two minutes and I promise to make all one hundred and twenty seconds worth it for you."

A part of me feels bad for stopping the release we both obviously need. My southern region is still screaming to be satisfied, but I've never been into public fucking, and even though we're in the privacy of our own home, knowing another person can hear us ruined the mood for me.

Standing up on my toes I lean in and kiss Caleb on the cheek, while giving him an apologetic pout. "I'm sorry, honey, I just can't. We can pick this up later and I'll make it up to you." Before he has any time to distract me I walk past him and out of our bedroom so I can go greet our unwanted houseguest.

My stomach aches with unwelcome knots every step I take.

The man I'm walking towards who gives me this unwanted stomachache is Noah. He's my boyfriend's best friend, a title I used to share with Noah until the end of my freshman year of college. Noah and I grew up together and were inseparable our entire childhood. We did every activity imaginable and he even played dolls with me because there were no girls my age on our block. As we got older he'd beat up the boys who teased me during my awkward phase. When I learned how to drive, he came home for a week and taught me how to change my own oil and fix a flat tire.

Although he was my best friend growing up, we had entirely different plans for adulthood. While I knew I wanted to get married and have a successful husband, three kids, and a career to fall back on when the kids started school, Noah was more of a free spirit. He had no plans. He lived life by his own schedule, and never let anything get in his way. Now he can barely take care of his dog.

When he graduated high school, he left to go travel Europe, leaving me to finish high school and prepare to attend university alone. Noah believed anything worth learning was taught through experience, not in a book.

Back then, my teenage self thought he'd grow out of his Peter Pan phase and eventually go to college and settle down. I wanted a marriage and love like my parents had...and I wanted that with Noah. I knew that when he was ready to, I'd be right by his side and hopefully he'd look at me as more than the little girl he grew up with and more like wife material.

My teenage self was dreaming because that never happened. A few years after he began traveling the world, he visited me in the spring of my freshman year of college. He didn't come alone. He brought his friend, Caleb, with him.

Caleb was the textbook for the type of guy I envisioned settling down with. He had goals for himself, great goals that included getting an education, a stable job, and then settling down with a wife and kids. Noah had no plans of settling down with a girlfriend, let alone a wife.

And Caleb was incredibly sweet and unbelievably reliable. Their different lifestyles and goals made it hard for me to believe they were such good friends.

Caleb and Noah had met briefly in Prague over the previous summer and after traveling together for a week, Caleb left to go back to the States so he could start his senior year of college, while Noah continued on to another city and adventure. They kept in touch and when Noah invited him to come with him to visit me for the weekend, Caleb took him up on his offer.

I wouldn't say Caleb and I hit it off right away, but when Noah ditched me to hit on a sorority girl, Caleb and I got to talk and we've been together ever since.

Six years, one cross-country move, and a graduation from law school later and I'm still with Caleb, one of the most promising new lawyers at his law firm.

As I enter our bright purple kitchen with white cabinets and a variety of paintings I found around the city, Noah's back is to me as he pours himself a cup of black coffee. He turns around when he hears me enter and smiles my way. His eyes trail up and down my body as he takes a sip of his drink.

"Good afternoon, shorty."

"Hey," I grumble as I nudge him away from the speckled granite counter and grab a mug to fill with coffee for myself. There's always a fresh pot of coffee on in my apartment when I'm home. I need caffeine continuously flowing through my veins to survive. You'd think I'd get enough at work to last the day, but I don't. "Next time you come over you should knock and wait for someone to let you in."

"Why would I knock when I have a key?"

Ugh.

I never gave him that key. Caleb did. Around the same time we stupidly decided to rent the apartment across the hall from Noah.

"Because knocking is the polite thing to do. We were...sleeping and you startled us."

Turning to face him, I lean back against the counter and place my mug down next to me so I can fix my messy hair. I pull my short, shoulder length blond hair with subtle pink and purple streaks up into a messy ponytail and then resume sipping my coffee.

"I almost forgot," Noah says, reaching into his pocket and changing the subject. Pulling out a Hershey's Kiss, he hands me the single piece of my favorite chocolate and I smile over at him before unwrapping the silver foil and plopping the chocolate kiss in my mouth. "Happy Unbirthday, shorty."

"Thanks, Noah," I mumble back as I suck on the milk chocolaty goodness.

We stand in the kitchen in silence, both of us enjoying our warm caffeinated drinks. Noah and I have a lot of these moments where we're both present in the room, but neither of us talks much. I long for the old days and how comfortable we were around each other. Conversation used to flow effortlessly between us. I was able to tell him everything, but since I've been dating Caleb our friendship has wavered. Sometimes I think the only reason we still talk and are in each other's lives is because Noah and Caleb are close friends.

Caleb's feet tap against the hardwood floor of our apartment as he enters the kitchen dressed in a designer suit and dress shoes. His blond curls are slicked back and he's ready for work. He's adorable when he's dressed all business-like.

"Listen, lover," Caleb says, directing the romantic pet name to Noah. "If you're going to come barging in here whenever you see fit, you better be prepared to suck my dick. Because of you I'm struggling with a massive case of blue balls."

Noah laughs, spitting the last sip of coffee back in the cup. "It's not my fault your girl doesn't want to get you off."

"Jesus," I chime in. "I'm right here, guys. Can we please not talk about this." I'm uncomfortable with where the conversation is headed. I've known Noah my entire life and I don't want him to know any of the details of my sex life.

They both ignore me.

"Skye was just about to come, taking me with her, and then you came in and killed the mood."

I wish I could say this is the first time they've openly discussed Caleb and my sex life in front of me, but it's not. They do it because they know it makes me uncomfortable, but they also know I won't stay mad. Caleb would never talk so vulgarly about it if he thought it really bothered me.

"If she wasn't willing to finish with me in the other room, then you aren't doing it right, Caleb. You should have your girl so hot and bothered that a Tsunami could hit and she'd rather come and flood your dick than run for cover."

Oh my God, are they really having this conversation right now?

"Next time I'll get here earlier so I can watch. I can critique your performance and give you some tips." Looking at me, Noah continues, "You're into that type of kinky shit, right, shorty?"

"Ugh," I grumble, leaving the kitchen that suddenly feels too small and suffocating with the two of them in it. I storm back into the master bedroom to get changed into normal clothing. After working at the coffee house early this morning I took off from my midday dog walking job and came home to take a nap, hoping to enjoy a peaceful afternoon in and not listen to those two talk about my sex life. Caleb had a rare afternoon off but now he has to head into work.

Just as I'm about to close the bedroom door Noah yells, "I'm just kidding, shorty. I don't have to come in and watch you have sex with my lover. Caleb already lets me video tape you–shit! What was that for?"

"Your big mouth, dick. Now she's going to be checking the bedroom for hidden cameras."

Their banter causes me to let out a soft chuckle.

Men.

If the two of them weren't such idiots, and Noah and I were as close as we used to be, I'd probably find their inappropriate closeness sweet. But they are idiots–my cute, adorable idiots, so it's not sweet. Plus, Noah and I aren't close anymore. Sure, I see him everyday and he still knows everything that's going on in my life because he lives across the hall and is best friends with my boyfriend, but something has changed. It's like an invisible wall is up between us and no matter how hard I try, I'm unable to tear it down.

I miss how easy it used to be between us. I miss being able to talk to him about anything and everything, and spending countless hours with him every day doing absolutely nothing and loving every minute of it. I miss the innocence of our relationship when we were kids and our biggest problem was choosing whose house we were going to eat at that night.
Skye

Age 8

"Did you know that Mattel sells a pink _Barbie_ dream house that's two stories high and you can buy a plastic pool separately to go in the backyard? I want it so bad."

"They probably sell a bunch of _Barbie_ shit, Skye. That's how corporations make money. They suck you in with a cheap _Barbie_ and then they have all these add-ons where they really make the money. My dad explains it better than me."

"Noah!" I shout with my eyes wide. "You can't swear in my house. If my daddy hears you you'll get in trouble." Noah's a few years older than me so I'm not surprised he knows so much about corporations and stuff, but I know he's not allowed to say bad words.

Noah rolls his eyes and continues to play with one of my brunette _Barbie_ dolls. He takes her sparkly orange and blue top off and starts playing with her boobs. It's really frustrating because I take a lot of time finding just the right outfit for each of my dolls and then he takes their clothes off in less than ten seconds.

"Do you ever wonder why _Barbie's_ breasts have no nipples?"

"Gross, Noah. Can you stop playing with her boobs and put her pretty top back on. She needs to be dressed when my _Wedding_ _Barbie_ marries _Ken_ in a few minutes."

He doesn't set my doll down and it's infuriating. When he ran over here this morning in his basketball shorts and yellow video game t-shirt he wanted to spend the day on the lake, but I was already playing with my _Barbie_ dolls. I thought he was being a good friend agreeing to play with me, when really he just wanted to get my dolls naked.

"You know, if _Wedding_ _Barbie_ and _Ken_ are getting married then we should set up a bed for when they have sex." He grins at me and wiggles his eyebrows, causing warmth to spread in my belly. His smile makes me happy.

"What's sex?" I ask. I've heard the word used a few times before but no one ever explains it to me. They almost say it like it's a bad word.

"You don't know what sex is? I sometimes forget what a baby you are," Noah teases.

"Hey, I'm not a baby! I'm eight and you think you're so special because you're eleven, but when I get older I'm going to be way smarter than you and I'll be calling you a big baby."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep!" I say triumphantly. I finish putting the veil on my _Wedding_ _Barbie_ that's getting married today.

Noah doesn't say anything more and quickly puts the orange and blue top back on my _Barbie_ he undressed earlier. He sits her down on the carpet next to my other _Barbie_ dolls. They're all waiting for the wedding to begin.

"This is so stupid. Make this wedding quick and then we can go back to my house and play _Zelda_ on my _Nintendo 64_. I don't want to go to the lake anymore."

I stand _Barbie_ next to _Ken_ and then look for my other _Ken_ doll that's going to be the priest. When I have all the dolls ready I ask Noah, "What's sex?"

He sighs–frustrated as he adjusts the Mario and Luigi t-shirt he's wearing. "You're too young to learn what sex is, Skye, so don't ask me. I'll tell you what sex is when you're my age."

"But I want to know now," I whine. I cross my arms and pout out my lower lip so he'll think I might cry. That always works with Noah

"If your mom and dad found out I told you what sex is, they'll never let me play over here again. My parents don't even know that I know what it is."

"I won't tell them, I pinky swear."

He tilts his head and looks at me, deciding if he should tell me or not. After what seems like forever he reaches his right hand out and curls his fingers into a fist, but leaves his pinky out.

Smiling because I wore him down, I reach out to do the same and we seal my promise with a pinky swear.

Noah picks up my _Ken_ and _Barbie_ doll and places them in his lap–then he blows my mind when he starts undressing them.

"Hey, what are you doing? I told you to stop undressing my dolls."

"I'm not doing this for fun, Skye." He continues to take off their clothes until both dolls are naked. "I'm not going to give you the details of sex because you're too young, no matter what you say, and if I tell you everything you'll just have more questions. But to get an idea of what it is..." He trails off.

Noah has _Barbie_ lying down on her back and a naked _Ken_ lies on top of her as Noah presses their plastic lips together.

"It's basically two naked people kissing." He makes kissing noises as he rubs Barbie's plastic boobs against _Ken's_ plastic chest.

"Ewe. That's disgusting." I quickly grab _Barbie_ away from him and put her wedding dress back on. "When I get married my husband and I are never having sex."

"You'll change your mind."

"No, I won't. Why would you think that?"

"Because when I marry you, Skye, we are definitely having sex."

Noah is available Now!!!

About The Author

Justine Elvira is a best selling author at multiple retailers. Writing is her form of therapy and helps her escape reality for a little while.

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