Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Emily
“Hello, ladies! I’m Bo,” one of the elves standing near the door said, with a wide grin. “Who’s up for a shot?”
Madeline put her arm up, pointing a finger down between us. “We are!” she yelled.
I shook my head and the elf winked at me. My face heated. He was gorgeous and muscular with beautiful brown skin, a wide smile, and excited deep-set brown eyes.
“I don’t drink!” I shouted over the music.
“You do tonight,” Bo said with a brow wiggle. “Now lick me right here, sexy girl,” the elf’s deep voice coaxed, as he pointed to his sculpted left pec.
It was right then I knew I’d lost my ally in Charlotte because she whistled from her chair in the middle of the stage.
“Do it, Memmy! It tastes so much better from there. And what the bride says goes!”
And so, my belly warm from the mint liqueur, my face hot with embarrassment, and the bridal party cheering me on, I covered my eyes with a palm, stuck my tongue out flat, and licked the elf’s pec like he was an ice cream cone.
When I peeked through my fingers, Bo was making his man-boob flex and dance.
He tasted a little like coconut oil and sin.
My sister licked Bo’s other pec and another handsome elf, this one a blond with a wiry build, salted Bo’s chest where we’d licked. Bo took both of our hands and ran them down his hard washboard abs while he did some gyrating dance moves and the ladies cheered him on.
“Lick me, ladies,” he demanded. We gave each other the side-eye, laughed, and licked the salt off him. The blond elf, who had salted Bo, handed us each a shot and we downed them.
I hissed, wincing, but there was no time to relish in the burn because Bo pushed my head down to his well-endowed sparkly briefs where he held the lime wedge so close to his Christmas package I instantly thought of the saying, it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.
“Suck the lime, sexy girl.”
I swallowed hard, closed my eyes and obeyed the elf while he thrust his skillful hips toward my face and the crowd catcalled.
I stood upright just as my sister finished sucking the blond elf’s lime.
After that the night was a bit of a blur. At least until a dance club version of Santa Claus is coming to town came on through the speakers and one of the elves announced Santa’s arrival.
“Hey Ladies! My name’s Ryder, and when I’m not working in Santa’s workshop, I’m at my ranch in Alberta riding broncos and taming saucy mares.” He followed this with some dance moves that heated way more than my cheeks.
“It’s that time!” He whistled through his teeth. “Gather round while I introduce you to Papa Elf, or as we like to call him Santa Daddy!”
I was enthralled as the big man himself danced out on stage.
And big man he was. Tall and thick, Santa Daddy was wide-shouldered and muscular, and I felt instantly attracted.
He danced out in his big black boots, fur-trimmed red pants, Santa hat, and nothing else.
His chest, unlike Bo’s smooth one, had light hair over it and a happy trail that I’d follow like a map, anywhere.
My jaw went slack and every bit of the alcohol I’d consumed went right to my head.
And the blood that should be there went right to my…
I looked down where some gentle throbbing made itself known.
Damn, I really did have a thing for Santa.
And Daddies. And this was Daddy Santa, or was it Santa Daddy… did it really matter?
When I finally took a minute to look at Santa Daddy’s face, I bit my lip. It was indeed the man with the impressive Christmas package from the changing room. Oh my.
His dirty-blond hair was long, to his shoulders and wavy, and his beard trimmed short.
Other than his suit, he’d made no attempt to look like the iconic overweight, gift-giving, senior citizen, and he certainly didn’t look jolly.
He looked more like a Nordic God than Santa Claus, but he was still Santa enough to make my inner five-year-old self squeal in delight.
Because, hot damn, I still believed in Christmas miracles, and this was one.
“All right, Ladies, it’s time to come sit on Santa Daddy’s lap and tell him all your Christmas wishes,” Ryder said into a microphone as the music lowered.
I shivered as Santa’s sort of stormy gray-blue eyes scanned the room and landed on me.
Tingles scattered through me as his gaze roamed up and down, from my face to my feet, leaving heat in their wake.
Santa’s chest was so much more sculpted than his elves, well maybe not Bo, but it wasn’t any less impressive at least, and by his eight-pack, it was clear he hadn’t been eating any cookies.
And that V, gosh, that V. This man must spend three hundred and sixty-four days a year in a gym because he was absolutely ripped.
“Who’s first?” Ryder asked, searching the crowd of hands waving in the air.
Mine, however, remained firmly down. I was too drunk and too enamored by Santa Daddy to put myself in a situation where I might repeat my nineteen-year-old mistakes.
And that off-duty cop was not nearly as sexy and hot as Santa Daddy. Or as deeply rooted in my fantasies.
Mm. Daddy. I had daddy issues. Santa Daddy issues.
“Hey Santa,” Bo asked, looking at the sexiest daddy to ever wear fur-trimmed red. “I think I see someone who’s been naughty. She’s not raising her hand, so she must be afraid.”
My eyes widened on Bo and I shook my head, feeling it spin a little. “No, I’m not naughty,” I said, sounding a little drunker than I thought I was. “I’m nice. I’m good. The goodest girl here, except for Lottie, but she’s an angel. My brother’s angel.” I was drunk rambling. Ugh.
“Ho, ho, I think you’re right,” Dirty Santa, er, I mean Santa Daddy said, his gray-blue eyes still on my blue ones. One of his dirty-blond brows suddenly arched in a way that made my tummy flip-flop and my, er, kitty purr.
“You afraid of me, little girl?” Santa Daddy asked, shifting forward and leaning his big forearms on his thick, thick, thighs. He looked a little grumpy, but I was so here for it.
I swallowed hard, shaking my head but slowly so I didn’t get the spins. He leaned back then, showing me that delicious stomach again, and patted his big palm on his leg. My eyes landed on that thick muscular thigh and my mouth went dry.
There was a bunch of catcalls from the bridal party and my throat worked to swallow.
“Shouldn’t the bride go first?” I asked, shyly pointing at Charlotte, but Ryder put the microphone in front of me, so the last half of my sentence was amplified.
Ryder clucked his tongue. “The bride told us one of you had been super naughty, so we asked around.” He turned his head back to Santa, the jingle bells on his hat ringing. “What do you think Santa Daddy, Lottie?”
In an excited voice, Charlotte said, “It’s definitely her.” And she pointed at me. My jaw dropped at her betrayal, but somewhere deep inside I loved her even more for her shenanigans. There was no doubt in my mind she’d fit in with my family.
“She’s always had a thing for Santa,” Madeline yells. “And now I know why!”
I groaned inwardly at my people turning on me.
“Let’s just check my naughty list,” Santa said in a voice that hit me somewhere between my thighs.
He reached down and picked up a scroll, unrolling it ceremoniously.
And after scanning the list and announcing the name of every woman in the bridal party, including Lottie, the hottie bride, and Madly. The only name not called? Mine.
“Those are the names on my nice list.” He turned to look at Ryder. “Only one name over here on the naughty list.”
“Uh oh, Daddy Santa. Who’s the lady on the naughty list?”
“Memmy,” he announced as his predatory glare landed on me.
My knees went weak. I seriously thought I might swoon. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Get up here, Memmy!” Charlotte hollered, waving me up to the little stage where she was still perched on her velvet chair beside Santa Daddy’s. I cursed her for enjoying this so much more than she let on she would earlier.
Santa crooked his finger at me, his eyes intense, as two elves escort me up onto stage. My heart thumped in my chest and in my—
“Ryder Elf, get this naughty minx a pillow up here on stage with me so I can keep an eye on her. But first…”
A dark-haired elf with two dimples and a slightly crooked nose spun me around behind a curtain away from the prying eyes of the others and shoved a form in my hand. “Is this your signature?”
I blinked at the paper with Sexy Santa Inc on the top. My name and signature were on it and I vaguely remember my sister making us all sigh non-disclosure and consent paperwork for the party.
I squinted. It looked like my signature, so I shrugged. “It is.”
“Okay good. We always double-check consent before we do this part of the show.” And then I’m whisked away again, and this time I land right at Santa Daddy’s side. And he smells amazing, like manly scented bodywash.
Ryder held up a big red sack and shook it. “Ladies, every good girl gets a present from Santa, but does anyone know what the naughty girls get?”
All the elves started chanting. “Spankings, spankings, spankings!”
My mouth dropped open, my heart picked up its pace, and something I guessed might resemble a menopausal hot flash hit me.
Charlotte squealed and clapped her hands like a little girl, and the rest of the bridal party cheered like a Roman gladiator was about to fight a beast. Except I was neither beast nor gladiator and Santa Daddy might be both, all rolled into one hot man.
“This was your sister’s idea, not mine,” Charlotte said, leaning toward me. “Madly said you’d love it. We conspired before the show.”