Santa’s Dark Secret

1. MILA

1

MILA

O kay, I know this is going to sound crazy, but when I was a little girl, only six or seven years old, I saw Santa Claus, and not just in my dreams or in a movie. It was as real as it gets. I saw the big guy in red right there in my living room, muddy boots and all. I’d gotten out of bed late on Christmas Eve to get a glass of milk, and just as I was making my way back to my bedroom, I saw him shimmy his red-suited ass out of my family’s fireplace.

Even as a little girl, I’d already heard the rumors on the playground—that the famous present bringer wasn’t real. Other kids said that the whole story about Santa and Mrs. Claus, along with their toy-making elves at the North Pole, was nothing but an elaborate ruse to get little boys and girls to fall in line, and I believed those rumors until his big ass appeared in my living room.

Sure, I was losing my tiny mind, realizing that the other kids had been wrong and that Santa was real, but what really surprised me wasn’t Santa at all. It was the young boy who followed him out of my fireplace and stood so confidently in my living room.

He was nothing at all like jolly old St. Nick. He was the polar opposite. Dark hair with even darker eyes, and though he was only a boy, there was a strange confidence about him that I will never forget.

They were only there for barely a second, and as Santa put a present under my tree, the boy simply stared at me with a smirk across his full lips, looking at me as though he was just as intrigued as I was. I stood soundlessly in a puddle of milk, barely able to believe what was happening. Then as Santa made his way back to the fireplace, the boy winked, and like a flash of lightning, they were both gone, leaving my little six-year-old mind blown.

I’ve held a torch for that little boy all my life. Even now as a grown-ass woman, I find myself wondering what he looks like now, what kind of man he turned into, and if that boyish charm grew into an intriguing manly deliciousness.

Insane, right? Yeah, that’s exactly what my mother thought too.

The moment I told her I’d seen Santa and a child appear in our living room in the middle of the night, she declared I’d lost my mind. I was clearly acting out due to my parents’ recent divorce. I barely had a chance to enjoy Christmas before Mom swept me into a therapist’s office to start talking about my hallucinations .

My mother, may she rest in peace, was a fickle woman. Scrap that, she was a cold-hearted bitch. I never got along with her, and truth be told, I think it was her immediate dismissal of what happened that night that started the rocky journey we shared.

All through my childhood and well into my teen years, we fought. I can’t remember a single day where there was peace between us, and I was eventually shipped off to live with my father. He, on the other hand, was a delight. I loved my father, and considering how well we got along, I always wished that we had been able to spend more time together. My mother had fought so hard for sole custody just to spite him, but we all would have been so much happier if I had always lived with him.

But just like Mom, my father recently passed away.

Imagine being barely twenty-six and having to bury both your parents within six months of each other. It’s been a rough year, to say the least. Mom was taken out by a plastic surgery gone wrong, and my father, the poor bastard, was allergic to healthy food and exercise. His heart attack wasn’t exactly the biggest surprise, but that didn’t make the pain of losing him any easier.

“Earth to Mila,” my friend, Carolina, says, waving her hands in front of my face, snapping me out of my internal misery. We’re at our company’s ridiculous idea of a Christmas party, and unfortunately, this was a mandatory event. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good Christmas party. There’s nothing better than watching Jan from Accounting get wasted off two martinis and slutting it up for Nathan in HR. She’s been twerking on him for the past twenty minutes, and as amusing as it is, I’m not feeling it tonight.

“Sorry,” I murmur, plastering on a fake smile and lifting my glass to my lips, hoping the cheap wine can somehow dull the ache in my chest—an ache that wasn’t put there by the loss of my father only a few short months ago. No, this is a whole new ache. This one is as fresh as they come. “Stuck in my head again.”

As of a week ago, I had it all. The perfect boyfriend, Brandon, who I’d hoped was going to propose for Christmas, and a best friend, Amelia, who was my rock through this past year, who held me up when I fell to pieces and was there to wipe my tears when the pain became too much.

But unfortunately for me, my boyfriend was involved in a tragic accident when he slipped and fell straight into my best friend’s vagina. It hit me out of nowhere. I was completely blindsided. I’d gone over to Amelia’s apartment to surprise her with an early Christmas gift for being such an amazing friend, and turns out, I was the one who got the surprise.

I walked straight into her apartment to see my boyfriend bending her over the couch I sleep on, screwing her brains out.

My heart fell right out of my chest, shattering into a million pieces, and since then, I’ve been a ghost of the woman I once was. In the space of ten months, I’ve lost everyone important in my life. My whole support system has crumbled. Mom. Dad. Amelia, and Brandon.

I do still have Carolina, the woman currently staring at me as though I’ve lost my mind. While I’ve known her for a few years, we’re just colleagues, and our friendship doesn’t often expand outside of working hours.

“Come on,” Carolina says. “We’re at a party, and even though it’s a shitty party with even shittier wine, you should try to have some fun. I know it’s been an awful year for you, but tonight is your chance to relax and let off a little steam.”

I shrug my shoulders, glancing out at the pathetic excuse of a Christmas party around me. Carolina and I work for a prestigious law firm in New York, and honestly, we’re more than lucky to be here, but I’m starting to wonder if any of it is even worth the long, grueling hours. We each finished our law degree, and after interning here, we secured positions. However, the empty promises of promotions are starting to land on deaf ears.

Both of us are at the bottom of the barrel, basically doing all the grunt work for the real lawyers while we idly sit by, waiting for someone to realize that we’re more than just paper pushers, and might actually know a thing or two about what we’re doing here. I suppose I’m partly to blame for that. I could have pushed myself to be noticed and valued, and I was in that mindset until this year went to shit. Now, I don’t even know if I care about this job or the career that could blossom from it. I’m not fulfilled here anymore.

Carolina and I became fast friends and have spent every lunch break—assuming we get one—together for the past four years, and yet, I can’t quite figure out why our office friendship hasn’t translated into a real outside-of-work friendship. Point is, I’m twenty-six, and I thought at this stage of my life, I would have so much more than just . . . this.

I scoff as I gaze at my friend. “I don’t know if I can afford to relax. Every time I do, someone seems to drop dead or stab me in the back.”

A cheeky grin rips across Carolina’s face. “Well, look at it this way. There’s no one left to drop dead or stab you in the back, so what do you have to lose?”

“Damn,” I laugh, throwing back what’s left of my wine. “You’re going in hard tonight.”

Carolina laughs. “Let your hair down, Mila. Let’s get wasted on the company’s dime and have a great night. There are only a few days until Christmas, and from tonight until after New Year’s Day, you’re officially on break, so who cares if you wake up tomorrow with a killer hangover and a man in your bed? As long as he rocks your world. It’s a win-win, girl. What could go wrong?”

I give her a blank stare, and as the idea sits with me, I quickly get on board.

She’s right. Why the hell shouldn’t I get wasted and fuck around? I like sex just as much as the next girl. I need it. And if Brandon can slut it up for Amelia, then why should I be spending my night moping about some guy when I could be having the time of my life?

“Fuck it,” I tell Carolina. “Let’s do it.”

“YES!” she cheers, holding up her glass. “That’s my girl. I thought I’d lost you for a minute.”

I roll my eyes, and not a moment later, her arm slips through mine as we make our way back to the bar, determined to make the most of tonight.

An hour later, I stand on a table next to Jan from Accounting, twerking against Nathan from HR while Carolina holds a stack of ones, making it rain for my skank-ass. I haven’t got a clue where she would have gotten her hands on a huge stack of dollar bills, but I can’t bring myself to care. All that matters is that we’re having the time of our lives.

“Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree” blasts from the speakers, and as I sip on cheap wine and let it go straight to my head, I don’t dare stop moving. My feet hurt, and as Jan and Nathan start making out right next to me, I figure it’s time to call it quits.

Carolina reaches for me as I begin to make my way off the table, and as I move, the bottom of my stiletto catches on the edge of the chair. I can’t save myself, and my arms flail as I crash onto the ground, taking Carolina down with me in a fearful fit of laughter.

“Holy fucking shit,” she howls, trying to wobble to her feet. “Are you okay?”

All I can do is laugh as I allow her to try and pull me back up, only that’s a lot easier said than done, and it ends up taking nearly a whole two minutes before we’re both stable on our heels. We fix ourselves one last drink before looping arms and strolling right out the door.

We get halfway down the street before my eyes widen, and I gape at Carolina. “We didn’t say goodbye to anyone.”

Her eyes widen in horror before we both start laughing all over again. “Oh my God. No wonder they don’t want to give us those promotions.”

“They’re such idiots,” I tell her. “We are the best ones in that whole firm. They’re lucky to have us.”

“Damn straight,” she says. “You know Jeremy asked me how to file a subpoena yesterday. Like . . . What the actual fuck? Filing paperwork should come as naturally as wiping your own ass. Tell me, how does that doorknob get promoted over me? Make it make sense.”

“Ahhh,” I say, holding up a finger as though I’ve just figured out the solution to the world’s problems. “I believe it may have something to do with the slimy, worm-like appendage in his too-tight pants.”

“His pants really are too tight. I mean, how does his asshole breathe in there? His ass cheeks are probably permanently squished together.”

A smirk lingers on my lips as we dawdle down the street, moving further away from the party and into the cool night. “You think when he farts, the little air bubble has to travel down to his dick and balls, like when girls are sitting down, and it has to escape through the front, and you feel it vibrate through your lips?”

“Oh my God. Yes,” Carolina gasps, clutching me tighter as she laughs. “What if he feels it vibrate against his sack? Or . . . Or does it shoot right up the back of his ass crack and escape out through the top of his pants only to get trapped inside the back of his button-down?”

“And then he’s just walking around all day wearing his fart?”

“Ughhhhh,” Carolina groans in disgust. “I always knew there was a reason why I hated Jeremy so much. He’s wearing his farts.”

“This needs to be discussed with Nathan as a matter of urgency.”

“It absolutely does,” Carolina agrees, fishing her phone from her clutch. She fumbles with it for just a moment before swiping her thumb across the screen, and within seconds, Nathan’s name appears. She hits call before finding the speakerphone button, and we pause in the middle of the walkway as we listen to the call connecting.

“What the fuck do you want?” A female’s voice snaps, quickly followed by a panting gasp. “We’re busy.”

“Jan?” I ask, listening as hard as my foggy brain can possibly manage. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” she groans. “It’s me. Now, what do you want?”

Wait . . . Are they fucking?

“Where’s Nathan?” Carolina asks, not having caught on quite as fast as I have. “It’s a matter of public health. We need to talk to him urgently. Jeremy has been walking around the office wearing his farts.”

“What about Jeremy’s farts?” Jan asks as a loud slap, slap, slap, slap fills the speakers, putting an image in my head of Nathan’s ball sack slamming against Jan’s pussy and making me queasy.

“What’s that sound?” Carolina asks. “It kinda sounds like—” Her eyes widen in horror, her face quickly draining of color. “Oh shit. Are you two . . . doing it?”

“Trying to,” Jan says.

“Oh, nice. Congratulations. You’ve wanted this for so long. All that twerking must have paid off,” Carolina teases before letting out a happy sigh. “How is he doing? Is he living up to all the hype? You know, I heard Nathan was hung like a horse. Is that true?”

“Oh yeah. Tongue action could use a little work, but he knows how to use his equipment. I give him a solid four out of five stars. Oh, you know, when I’m done, you should really give him a try.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. The men I screw really need to be on their tongue A-game. But—oh,” Carolina’s gaze swivels back to me. “You know, Mila doesn’t have high expectations of men. I’m sure she’ll be willing to give Nathan a good ride. We’ve been meaning to get her laid tonight.”

“What?” I shriek. “I’m not screwing Nathan. He’s a million years old and always smells like dirty bath water.”

“You sure, love?” Nathan grumbles through the phone, making me realize we’re not the only ones with this call on speakerphone. “I’m just about done here. Are you gals still at the party? I could head back there and give you a run for your money. Though, I might need a few minutes. The old boy can’t swing back as fast as he used to.”

Gross.

Carolina’s face scrunches with disgust, and not a second later, her thumb drops down on the hang-up button. “Did that really just happen?” She laughs. “Holy shit. How did Jeremy’s dirty farts turn into Nathan’s limp dick?”

Tears well in my eyes as laughter claims me, and I crash down against the edge of a fountain, planting my ass on the red tiles. “Nathan should really hire a new HR person so that we can talk to that person about Nathan.”

“Yeah, I agree. Let’s make it happen.”

Carolina lets out a heavy breath and crashes down beside me as she tries to wipe away her tears of laughter, doing what she can not to smudge mascara all over her face, but there’s really no point. Her mascara has been smudged since she was making it rain with dollar bills.

I sigh deeply and lean back to graze the water’s surface with my fingertips, only to find the top layer iced over. I’ve always loved the serenity of this place. There’s something so soothing about the sound of the running water. You know, when it’s not frozen and I don’t need to pee.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find someone to screw your brains out. At this rate, if you don’t get dicked down soon, I’m going to have to get you a Christmas-themed dildo that spurts eggnog when you come.” Carolina smirks as she reaches down to touch the ice just as I had, only she goes too far and tips herself off balance. She screams as her ass slides off the edge, her arms flailing for something to grab onto, but it’s too late, and the fountain quickly claims her.

I try to save her, quickly reaching for her falling body, but after all that cheap wine, my reflexes aren’t exactly on point, and I miss every opportunity to help, leaving me laughing helplessly.

Carolina crashes through the thin layer of ice and sits in the dirty sludge water beneath, gaping at me as though she can’t believe how the hell that just happened. The longer she watches me howling with laughter, the more frustrated she becomes, and I can’t help but wonder if the cheap wine is dulling her senses because I can only imagine how cold that must be. “You are so not laughing at me right now.”

“Oh my god.” I cackle harder, the tears rolling down my face as I clutch my stomach. “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh yeah?” She smirks, and like lightning, she reaches forward and grabs my arm, giving it a hard yank until I slide off the edge and crash into the bottom of the dirty fountain right beside her.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” I squeal, sitting in the sludge water like a drowned rat, water trickling off me as I instantly feel the chill in my bones. It’s fucking freezing. Swimming in the middle of winter in New York probably isn’t the brightest idea.

“You’re right,” Carolina laughs, splashing dirty fountain ice water over me as her teeth begin to chatter from the cold. “That really was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“You can try,” she says. “But I’m simply too brilliant. You’ll miss me too much.”

Rolling my eyes, we hastily start climbing out of the fountain before we get hypothermia and everything starts to go numb. My teeth begin to chatter just like Carolina’s and the need to get home and in a hot shower becomes my only priority. “Gotta admit, this really isn’t how I pictured my night going,” I say.

Carolina pulls off her soaking coat, pinching a stray leaf stuck to her soggy thigh, both of us just moments from turning blue. “I know. I’m sorry. I really thought you’d be on your back right now, legs in the air, being railed within an inch of your life.”

I let out a heavy sigh, able to picture it so clearly. “Fuck, that actually sounds really good.”

Carolina puts her arm around me and we both stare at the offending fountain a moment longer, the two of us violently shaking from the cold. “You know, the best way to heal a broken heart is to let someone else dazzle it.”

“I thought the way to get over somebody was to get under somebody else.”

“Two things can be true,” she laughs before slipping her hand into her soggy pocket and pulling out a single penny. “Here,” she continues, handing it to me. “Toss it into the fountain and make yourself a raunchy Christmas wish. Get railed for the holidays. Finish the year off with a literal bang, and when you come back to work in the new year, you’ll be fresh as a well-fucked daisy.”

My heart starts to race, but that could be the hypothermia setting in.

After I saw Santa and who I assume was his son, I wished for that little boy to return every year. And call me crazy, but I’m almost certain he did. I never saw him again or woke up in the middle of the night to see if he was there, but every single time I’d wake up on Christmas morning, a tiny charm rested on my bedside table.

Sure, some might think it’s weird that every Christmas Eve, someone has been coming into my bedroom and leaving me a charm, but I know deep in my gut that it was him—the little boy who winked at me all those years ago.

Even now, I cherish those Christmas charms. I still have every single one of them and have put them together on a bracelet that I’m too afraid to wear for fear I might lose it. But what it really comes back to is that I’ve wished for him to return every year, and he’s done just that.

Only that little boy is no longer a child. He’s all grown up now.

I wonder if . . . hmmm.

Maybe I need to ask for something a little . . . more from my mystery Christmas Eve visitor. I already know he’s willing to return, but just how far can I push this?

And with that, I close my eyes and toss the little penny into the freezing fountain. “This Christmas, I wish to be dicked down so hard that my knees will shake for weeks after. I wish to be thrown around, flipped over like a pancake, and railed within an inch of my life. I wish to be dragged down my bed only to feel a warm mouth close over my clit and scream as he works me with his skilled tongue.”

“Oh, don’t forget making him come apart in your mouth,” Carolina suggests, her shivers shaking us both.

“Oh yeah. That too,” I say through chattering teeth. “But most of all, I wish to come alive, to feel things I’ve never felt before, and to be screwed so good that nothing will ever compare.”