Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
BOZ
That evening, Santa's red Chevelle waited for me at the curb outside the building's main entrance. Colette walked me out to the car, glancing over her shoulder with every other step. She stayed at my pace, but when we reached the car, she shoved me into the back seat and took the bucket seat beside Santa.
"Drive around the block," she said. "I want to test a theory."
Santa did as she asked and backed into an alley when she pointed.
"I think our friends in the financial planning department want to take advantage of the long evenings," she said. "Is your apartment building well warded?"
"It could use some upgrades," Santa said .
"The empress has a witch on her payroll. I'll send her to you."
"Witches are real?" I asked, mostly to remind them I was still here, crammed in the back seat, when all I really wanted to do was make Santa come before he left for work.
"Very real," Santa said, "though not the poor souls who suffered during the witch trials."
"The real witches saw the trials as an invitation to take over," Colette said. "They stopped the murders and have lived in the northeast ever since."
I'd always wanted to be a witch, sorcerer, or other chosen one when I was the child picked last for gym class (and all the other times my classmates made it clear I was the least popular). Somehow, I'd ended up in the backseat of my vampire lover's car with my vampire boss riding shotgun. Maybe I'd done something right, after all.
Santa froze mid-sentence, and Colette motioned me down on the back seat. It was eerie to hear only the sound of my breath in the car.
"Drive," Colette whispered after what felt like ten minutes.
Santa gunned it down the alley, tossing me against the seat back. I sat up, trying to massage the crick from my neck.
"That was one of the vampires who attacked us outside Blood Drive," Santa confirmed .
Colette handed Santa her phone. "Is this the other one?"
"Yes," he replied before I could complain about distracting the driver.
"The empress will be amused to know they're working together again." Colette looked anything but amused as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. "She's talking about moving up Boz's permanent hire date."
I swallowed hard. I didn't want to be a vampire, not yet, but I didn't have many options.
Santa dropped Colette back at the office, not even giving me time to change seats before he drove off again. He parked in his usual spot in front of his apartment and helped me out of the back seat.
"Is that what you want?" he asked softly.
"I don't know."
"You may not have a choice. If what Colette says is true, those vampires meant to kill you that night. While you're human, there's a higher likelihood they'll succeed."
"And if I'm a vampire?"
"They might kill you anyway," he said. "Or … maybe they want to turn you."
"Why would they bother?" Giving me eternal life seemed a poor decision on their part, especially since the empress already wanted that for me.
"Newly turned vampires are bound to their bloodlust for months, if not years. It all depends on the sire, but I don't remember the first year after I was turned."
That didn't sound promising.
"New vampires are also more susceptible to being thralled by their sires. Remember all your talk of mind control? Sire bonds are like that. In that state of total devotion, you could set your office building on fire, risking your own life while taking down Empress Marcella's accounting firm."
I didn't understand. Of all the interesting segments of Empress Marcella's business, "Why would they go after accountants?"
"Sometimes, they do it for pure chaos. Besides, you're thinking too hard." Santa ushered me upstairs to my apartment instead of stopping at his. "You're also wasting precious time. I have two hours until work."
I expected to be manhandled once we were inside my apartment, but Santa surprised me by cupping my cheeks and bringing me in for a scorching kiss. His lips were warm against mine, a sign he'd stopped at Blood Drive before picking me up.
I leaned in, deepening the kiss and trying to take more of him inside of me. I wanted all of him. "Fuck me tonight?" I asked when he pulled away.
"Not enough time," he said. "Next Monday."
I couldn't hold in a whimper at the thought of waiting six days. I needed him inside me now.
He dropped to his knees before me and unzipped my pants, and I forgot my disappointment. Santa on his knees was enough to make me forget everything, including my troubles with the financial planners.
Santa's experience and my lack of it had me riding the edge of my orgasm too soon. I grabbed his shoulders for an anchor as my world shattered into heat and light.
Once he’d milked every last drop and shuddering twitch from me, he stood and kissed me. I couldn't get enough of Santa's kisses. As wonderful as his blowjobs were, I loved it more when he let me taste myself on his tongue after he blew my mind.
"I need to go," he whispered.
"You just got here," I reminded him. "I thought you had two hours."
He kissed me with a passion and desperation that knocked my glasses askew and left my cock hard in my still unzipped pants. He broke the kiss with a frustrated groan. "I need to clean a few messes before the witch can set foot on my property."
"Tomorrow?" I asked.
"Until you finish your report, I'll be waiting for you outside your office every night," he said. "I'll ask Colette to adjust your work hours if you must."
"Adjust my work hours?"
"It won't always be dark at five," he said. "I don't trust your safety with anyone but Colette, or the empress herself. Don't let your coworkers take you home."
"I work with mostly shifters," I reminded him.
"They should be safe, but a shifter's speed is no match for a vampire's cunning. I don't want you to get hurt." He didn't say it, but the word hung heavy in the air between us. Again.
Santa blamed himself for my broken leg and my new craving for vampire blood. His blood. Despite his fear, I didn't associate my desire with the taste of his blood alone. I wanted all of him, any way he wanted to give it to me.
After all my promises, I was already falling for him. I never imagined I would fall in love with a sex worker. That was Santa's job description, but that wasn't who he was. He was so much more. I'd barely scratched the surface of his brilliant facade, and I wanted to know everything about him, even the scary parts, such as why he was so worried about giving me his blood.
Cleaning up before the witch arrived must have involved the giant garage across the parking lot. Santa knocked on my door an hour later with box after box of Christmas decorations.
"Everything we're not using for Fanglory this year," he said. "If you can't find a use for it, leave it in the boxes. I'll take them to the thrift store tomorrow before work."
I thanked him for his generosity. He replied with another kiss that left me breathless and aching. I'd never had a boyfriend, but I understood the appeal. Whenever we parted, Santa kissed me like he couldn't wait to see me again. It felt fucking amazing.
He left me alone with a living room full of boxes. My plan to veg out in front of the television could wait until later. For one, I couldn't see it over the six-foot by three-foot box on top of my coffee table. I found an artificial Christmas tree inside with green branches and built-in white lights. At first glance, it looked like a bunch of pipe cleaners held together with wire, but the more I adjusted the branches to fill the gaps, the more tree-like it looked.
Some of the other boxes held two-foot statues of garden gnomes painted or dressed as Santa's elves. I'd seen a few others in the VIP lounge at Fanglory, but these were older and more grotesque.
Another box contained gargoyle statues wearing pointy elf hats made of stone. I left them in the boxes. I loved Halloween, but the time for gargoyles was almost two months ago. Still, I could imagine Santa using the gargoyles in place of the creepy-looking gnomes to stand in as his elves. I bet his Halloween shows at Fanglory were magnificent.
My throat hurt when I swallowed, almost like I was choking on glass. I'd set myself up for heartache with Santa. As much as I'd tried to avoid having feelings for him, I was already too far gone. I liked him. A lot. I hadn't known him a month yet, and already I looked forward to next year. Would we even be lovers by then, or reduced to acquaintances who lived in the same apartment building?
I'd heard him talking to his other renters in the hallway. I wondered if they had a gathering place around here, somewhere we could all grab coffee and share our sad stories about how we met Santa, and he brought us home like strays.
Nonetheless, I appreciated his help. He'd rented me a great apartment close to work. He'd shown me the confidence I needed to attract hookups in the city. He'd done exactly what he'd promised, and I should have been grateful. Instead, I was angry, with myself and with him.
I hated to spend the holidays angry, though. I'd done that often enough when I couldn't find a suitable hookup around my parents' place during the winter break. Now, I was in a much better location. I didn't have to worry about everyone in a five-mile radius knowing the color of my underwear the day I split my pants in gym class in fifth grade.
Christmas was supposed to be a joyous time of year. I needed an attitude adjustment, without the alcohol this time. With my music app, I downloaded a Christmas playlist and started listening. I teared up at the first few traditional songs, but then I landed on a comedy Christmas loop.
Searching through the boxes went much faster after that. I found the tree ornaments and a box of miscellaneous decor. Strings of lights twisted with garland went across the top of the television and beneath the kitchen island. I left the tree for later.
Hungry, I made myself a peanut butter sandwich for dinner and fell asleep on the couch listening to Christmas tunes. When I came to, my apartment still looked like a disaster zone. I'd stacked the broken-down boxes neatly in the corner, but the boxes of rejects were strewn about the floor with their flaps partially open so I could remember why I'd rejected them, exactly.
I heard the lock turn, and then Santa entered my apartment. "You should go to bed," he said.
"I was on my way until I heard your key in the door. Do you always make unannounced house calls?"
"I told you I'd be back for the decorations you don't want."
"I thought you meant tomorrow."
"It is tomorrow." He laughed. "For you, anyway."
He rushed me, kissing me again and making me forget how angry I was. Yes, Santa put on a good show at Fanglory, but what was the point of continuing the act here, where no one could see it? He kissed me on the mouth, something he didn't do with clients.
"Admit it," I whispered in his ear. "You like me a little."
"I like you a lot," he said. "Too much."
My spine tingled when he kissed down the side of my neck and licked along the throbbing vein in my throat.
"I drove the van home from Fanglory. I need to pack this stuff up." He motioned toward the tree. "Were you planning on decorating that?"
I pointed to the box of ornaments still sitting on the coffee table. "Got too tired."
He pulled me off the couch. "How about now?"
I laughed. "Are you serious? I'm still too tired."
"I brought you a cookie." He pulled a folded and taped napkin out of the pocket of his Santa suit. It ripped open when I tugged on it. Inside was a perfectly round yellow cookie with hard, clear granules sprinkled over the top. I bit into it, and it melted in my mouth, all vanilla and sugary goodness.
"Okay," I said when I'd swallowed the last of it and tossed the napkin in the kitchen waste bin, "I might have enough energy now."
It didn't even matter that it was three in the morning, and I worked tomorrow at nine. Time seemed to stop when Santa told me about the strange mixture of baubles and round balls in the box. "These reminded me of Rome," he said, handing me several glass balls covered in glittering blue and gold paint. "And these." A delicate box held four tiny hand-painted porcelain bells.
"It's a good thing you don't have a cat," he said.
"Are pets allowed in the building?" I asked. I'd signed the paperwork sober, but I hadn't wanted to waste Santa's time by reading it over again after I'd spent hours giggling over the application the night before. I didn't remember anything about pets, though.
"No." He grinned. "You're trying to remember if it's in the contract, aren't you?"
I laughed. "Guilty."
"It's on the sign out front and in the top box on the contract." He rolled his eyes in mock frustration. "No one reads these days!"
More decorations left the box and made it to the tree, most without my notice. Whenever I caught Santa standing still, he shrugged and tried to look innocent.
The final decoration was a bunch of tinsel in an old shoebox. Santa and I took turns stringing the stuff along the tree branches.
"It looks much better in here," Santa said when we were finished. "Festive."
"Like you," I teased.
"No." He took my breath away with the intensity of his gaze as he pulled me closer to the tree. I could see the reflection of the lights in his dilated pupils. "Brilliant, like you."
I laughed and tried to push him away, but he held me firm and kissed me. Then, he pointed up at the sprinkler head above us. A sprig of mistletoe I hadn't noticed hung from the nozzle.
"How did you even get up there?" I asked. It was a good three feet above my head.
"I jumped." He grinned and pecked my cheek. "I have a ladder downstairs, but that would have been too much effort."
Once the boxes were broken down and tucked away for use after Christmas, Santa motioned to the rest of the boxes scattered around the room. "Anything you haven't looked through?"
"No, I've seen it all, including your creepy gnomes and gargoyles."
"The gargoyles are for Halloween," he confirmed. "The gnomes … not my best garage sale finds."
"Do tell," I said, leaning my hip against the counter while he taped the boxes closed.
"Nothing much to tell about the gnomes, but the best find …" he grinned. "A high school production of Hamlet built a giant wooden coffin . I turned it into a glory hole."
"There's a coffin in Hamlet ?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I wasn't looking in that gift horse's mouth. I got it for a dollar. "
"Age-old vampire loves garage sale bargains," I quipped. "What am I going to learn about you next?"
"Tonight, I'm offering to teach you how much I love to eat your ass after a long day at work."
"Didn't you get enough ass-eating at work?"
He laughed. "You'd be surprised. A lot of pole sucking and riding, but not enough ass-eating going on at Santa's Workshop this time of year."
By the time I took a thorough shower, Santa had finished moving the unwanted decorations to the truck in the parking lot. I found him in my bed, stroking his hard and leaking cock.
"How …?" I didn't know what to ask. I had so many questions about his line of work, including how he could possibly get it up for me.
"Slow night," he said. "Tuesdays usually are."
"You're always horny, then?"
He snorted. "Always when I'm around you."
"You're just saying that."
He blinked lazily and dragged his fingers along his shaft. "Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?" He patted the bed beside him. "I've been thinking about your ass all night. Let me taste you."
It was another hour before I finally sank into an exhausted sleep. When I woke to my alarm, Santa was already gone.