8. NICK
8
NICK
R eading over the words of Mila’s final letter, I let out a heavy sigh. I’ve had one hell of a rough year being away from her, but from the sound of it, her year has been complete hell, and despite the cheery words and the comical way she addresses each letter, I sense the pain within her.
She’s struggling, and I fucking hate that I can’t fix it. She’s lonely and miserable, and I’m the one person she needs to take that ache away, but I’m the only fucking person on this godforsaken earth who can’t be with her.
Fuck. I’d give anything to keep her. To take her away from that bullshit apartment in New York and have her as my own for the rest of time. But how can I just tear her away from her life? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve more than thought about it, especially come October when she wished to be with me all the time.
The sinister thoughts pounding through my mind are enough to see me jailed. She doesn’t truly mean it. She doesn’t understand what she’s asking for. Like in September when she wished for me to claim her sweet ass. Again, I’ll do it without a moment of hesitation, but I really don’t think she fully understands what she’s getting herself into.
Putting her letter down on top of the other eleven, I lean back in my chair and prop my boots up on the expensive mahogany desk, grateful that I don’t have to wait much longer before finally getting to be with her.
Tonight is Christmas Eve, and it’s only a few short hours before I take off with Tucker leading my sleigh. We’ll get the whole gift-giving part of the night over and done with, and before I know it, I’ll be sneaking through Mila’s living room window and ticking off every last box.
The thought has my attention shifting to the new printout of Mila’s wishes, and my lips pull into a smirk. I had to collate them all, taking out just the wishes within each letter. And fuck, we’re up for a big night. I hope she’s both mentally and physically prepared.
January - To be fucked up against the living room wall the second I see her. Slam into her. (A quickie to get it out of our systems.)
February - Head over to the kitchen counter and give the walls something to talk about! (More specifically, fuck her with my tongue.) Spread her creamy thighs and go to town with my mouth. Show her how fucking great it can be.
March - Make her come so hard that her whole world implodes. She wants to feel the whole world shake beneath her, but even I have limits on what my magic can do.
April - Make her feel something. Can be creative with this. And no, she doesn’t mean with my cock. She wants her heart to come alive.
May - A perfect mold of my veiny dick, preferably in bright Christmas red. Don’t forget the veins! Batteries not included.
June - Let her ride me until I fall apart. I have no choice but to lay back and take it. Floor, couch, or rooftop beside the reindeer. (Preferably not the rooftop. Tucker’s a horny little reindeer. I don’t need him bricking up while watching my girl fuck me.)
July - Get to know me better. Open up. Let her know the man that I am. Let her understand me and feel the person she’s been waiting for isn’t going to break her heart.
August - Bend her over and take her from behind, hand in her hair, and don’t dare hold back. Be rough with her. Then let her ride the replica cock while I fuck her mouth.
September - Claim that sweet ass if she’s up for it. Take it slow. She’s new at this.
October - Be with me forever. Going to need clarification on this one.
October - Surprise her. Give her something she’s not expecting. One pearl necklace coming right up.
November - Give her the clarity she deserves.
December - Lay her down and tear her lingerie off with my teeth.
Now, I won’t lie, I’m particularly fond of June and September. The idea of laying back and watching her take control has excited me to no end. Just the thought of Mila on top of me and riding my cock as she pleases is getting me hard. Fuck, she’s going to be so damn beautiful riding me. The way her body will roll. How she’ll grind and groan. I can’t fucking wait. But claiming her ass? Fuck. She has no idea how many times I’ve thought about claiming her sweet ass over the years.
As for the list in general. I don’t think we can tick them off in order. I’m going to have to be strategic about the way I start ticking shit off, but that’s okay. Something tells me that Mila won’t mind what order they come in, as long as she gets everything she wants. And fuck, I’m not about to let her down.
She’s been waiting a long fucking time for tonight, and I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure she gets every last thing she has asked for. No matter how long it takes.
Leaving her there on that rooftop last year was a fucking punch to the stomach, and the thought of having to do it again just doesn’t sit right with me, but what am I supposed to do? Kidnap her and bring her back here? After all, that’s exactly what she wished for, right? She wants to be with me forever, and it’s not as though I can do what I need to do in New York. I need to be here at the North Pole, and if she intends to be with me, then she’s going to have to be here with me too.
Fuck. Am I seriously considering this? She’ll be pissed. It’s one thing to give her what she wants, but I know damn well she didn’t understand what she was asking for. It works for me though, and it’s not like she’s exactly loving her life in New York right now. I could offer her a whole world she’s never imagined. Sure, she might be pissed for a little while, but she’ll get over it eventually.
Shit. It’s barely an hour before I’m due to take off for the night to be the perfect Santa Claus for billions of children, and I’m thinking about kidnapping a woman out of her home. The fuck is wrong with me?
A soft knock sounds at my office door, and I barely have a moment to grab the checklist of Mila’s wishes and shove it deep into my pocket before my father strides through the door with a stack of papers in his hand, not bothering to wait for an invitation.
“I think it’s about time you and I had a conversation,” he says in that gruff tone that suggests I’m about to have my ass handed to me.
My boot falls from the desk, and I sit up, my gaze flashing toward the clock on the edge of my desk. “Uhhhh, can it wait until the morning? Now really isn’t the best time. I need to start checking on the reindeer.”
“No, Nicholas,” he says, dropping the papers down in front of me, only for me to realize these are copies of Mila’s letters. “We’re going to talk now.”
Fuck.
He reaches for one of the letters. “To the Midnight Pussy Penetrator with exceptional tongue game,” he starts to read out before pinching a few more. “To the Dick Me Down Demon. The Pussy Perpetrator. The Beastly Bitch Banger.”
I cringe, but I can’t help the laughter that creeps into my tone. The Beastly Bitch Banger was definitely a favorite of mine. “You saw all of them, huh?”
“No, son. I didn’t see them. Frederick did,” he snaps. “He almost had a heart attack when he discovered these this morning. I’ve had to go send him to lie down. You know our helpers are innocent of heart. They can’t be seeing filthy letters from your girlfriend in New York. The magic of Christmas comes from the innocence of belief, and these letters put that innocence into question and our whole enterprise at risk.”
Hmmm. Girlfriend.
Tell me why I like that so much.
“Shit, Dad. I’m sorry,” I say, getting to my feet and grabbing my red coat before pulling it on. “I know these letters have definitely been pushing the boundaries of what we do here. I thought I was catching them all before anyone else saw them. Seems I forgot about the backup drive. I’ll apologize to Frederick, but I don’t really know what more you want from me. Mila is a grown-ass woman. I can’t control her Christmas wishes any more than you can. You know just as well as I do that her wishes are her desires, and the only thing I can do about that is to grant those wishes.”
My father gapes at me. “It’s Christmas Eve. You can’t seriously be thinking of entertaining this . . . this filth.”
“Sorry, Pops. It’s my call. I’m Santa Claus now. I was able to spend time with her last year and get my job done. I don’t see why I can’t do it again this season.”
My old man simply stares at me in horror, and I can only imagine the million thoughts running through his mind. He regrets retiring because he thinks I’m going to fuck this up, but at some point, he’s going to have to learn to trust me.
“Dad,” I say, stepping around my desk. “I truly am sorry for the letters. I’ll do better to keep that shit to myself in the future, but I won’t apologize for anything else. I love her, Dad. I’ve loved her since I was eight years old, and now that she finally knows who I am, I’m not about to turn my back on her. She’s waited twelve long months to see me, and you bet your ass that the moment the last present is delivered, I’ll be right there on her rooftop, rushing to see her.”
Dad watches me for a moment, his gaze softening. “You’re really in love with this woman? This isn’t just some filthy need to get your rocks off with some random girl and get under my skin.”
“No, Pops. Getting under your skin is just an added bonus.”
He lets out a heavy sigh, and I watch as his walls slowly fall down. “Alright then. See to it that you talk to Frederick, and remember, the job comes first. No child is left without a gift before you go see her.”
“I know.”
“Good,” he says, before turning his back and striding to the door, only to stop and glance back. “Oh, and Nick. Keep your filthy sexcapades out of the Christmas wishes. Find another way to communicate with this girl that doesn’t traumatize our helpers.”
I nod. He has a point. “Noted.”
And with that, he’s gone, leaving me to prepare for the biggest night of the year. Only this year, everything is going to be different.