Chapter 7
HARDY
School just let out, and I’m waiting in Bella’s room while she walks Avery down to the gym for after-school care. I’m finding it harder to resist this woman, but today we’re focused on the mess we signed up for. Organizing Santa’s Workshop.
I have no clue what I’m doing for our own holiday festivities let alone how to organize something so monumental for an entire school, but I’m willing to learn, and I’m certain I’m in the right hands with Bella. If anyone can help me save Christmas, it’s her.
The sound of her heels in the hall warns me of her approach, and her face lights up when she sees me.
She closes the door behind her as she pulls a chair up to her desk and motions for me to sit.
Thankfully this chair is adult-sized because my quads were burning after sitting in the kid-sized ones for the whole PTO meeting.
She drops a stack of papers on her desk and looks at me with a mischievous grin.
“Before we get started here, something has been eating away at me and I have to ask.”
Raising my eyebrows, my curiosity is piqued.
“Am I the only person who’s exposed a tit to you on a call?”
My gaze shoots to her in surprise as I laugh. Her boldness is extremely sexy, and I can’t help but be taken aback by her question. “I can honestly say I’ve never seen someone’s tit fall out during a call before.”
There’s an adorable look of triumph on her face.
“I have been flashed intentionally, though.”
“Stop it, you have not.”
“Yup, apparently you’re not the only one that thinks I’m hot.” I cringe as soon as the words come out of my mouth. What am I doing?
“You know, that should embarrass me, but it does not.” She folds her arms under her chest, propping her tits up on them.
My eyes rake down, drawn to her cleavage before traveling up to her lips. They’re full and so fucking kissable. Holy shit, do I want to kiss them.
“So, what’s Santa’s Workshop?” I ask, averting my gaze, breaking the tension, as I tug on the back of my neck.
She looks at me with a blank stare, blinking slowly.
I’m not sure if she’s uncomfortable because of the way I was checking her out, or if she’s teasing me about my question.
“I mean, I know it’s where Santa works at the North Pole, but in the context of the school, and whatever it is I volunteered for, what are we talking about?
We didn’t really get to that part the other night. ”
“Are you telling me that you signed up to help run this and you don’t even know what it is?”
“Well, the lady running it is really hot, and she’s already showed me one of her boobs, so I was kinda hoping she’d show me the other.”
Her head falls back in laughter, and my eyes track the delicate column of her throat, wishing I could grab it while driving my cock into her. Tamp it down, man. Clearly this woman has awoken something in me that I’m having trouble containing.
“Santa’s Workshop is a fundraiser the PTO does every year.
Where most of the fundraisers we do aim to raise money for the school, this one raises money to give back to families in need in the community.
Basically, we buy cheap items, mark up the price by a dollar or two, sell them, then donate the proceeds.
The kids come through and do all their holiday shopping for their families.
Parents usually send cash in an envelope that has names of who they’re shopping for and a budget for each person. ”
I run my hand through my stubble as I survey the papers on her desk. “So, what are we looking at here?”
“Amber dropped off a stack of papers from the chair of last year’s workshop, but I swear that woman is determined to watch me fail. She is meticulous about her meetings and notes and has a color-coated notebook for everything, yet she hands me a disorganized pile of chaos?”
“That is weird.” I pick up several sheets of paper that look like an itemized list of inventory, complete with sales prices, cost of goods, and potential profits.
“This looks like the list of items they sold last year.
I'll go through the stack and pull out any other pages that look like this. Do we have items left over from last year? Or do we have to buy inventory to sell?”
“I think there are some boxes of leftover items from last year in the PTO storage closet. We can go down there and look at what we’re working with.”
It takes us twenty minutes to go through all the papers and organize them into piles based on the type of document.
Then she’s leading me down the hall, toward the front office.
I stare at her perfectly round ass the entire time as she gives me flirty glances over her shoulder.
Most of the staff has already left, but I can still hear the faint squeaks of sneakers on the gym floor.
When Bella opens the door to the PTO closet, I’m assaulted by the chaos. “Holy shit, there’s so much crap in here. Is there an organizational system?” I ask, looking around at the shelves full of boxes, only a handful of which are labeled.
“Apparently, Amber’s organization only extends to her binders,” Bella grumbles.
We decide to divide and conquer, each of us taking our place on opposite ends of the small space as we start at the bottom shelf and work our way up and over, pulling out each box to examine its contents. I’m starting to feel hopeless when we meet in the middle and are still coming up empty.
“I think it’s those boxes on the top shelves. I vaguely remember a few of us shoving shit in here last year during the cleanup.” She points to several boxes tucked in the back top corner of the room.
Backing up to get out of her way, she brushes against me as she walks over to the shelf.
The move feels intentional, and my cock stiffens in response.
I watch as she reaches up, exposing a sliver of her stomach.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?” Her tone is flirty as she wiggles her ass.
“Go ahead. I’m just enjoying the view,” I say, leaning against a shelf as I watch her stretch onto her toes, struggling to reach the top shelf.
She places a foot on a bin on the bottom shelf, trying to extend her reach, but slips. I lean over to catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist as I pull her into me.
My heart races wildly in my chest as our eyes meet, and I search her face for answers. Does she want this? Her eyes rake down to my lips, and she leans into me. I can feel the way her chest expands with every breath, and I close the distance between us.
There’s an explosion in my chest the second her lips touch mine as the last of my resolve leaves my body and she moans into my mouth.
I pull back to take a breath, and she reaches a hand up to my jaw, pulling my lips back to hers as I groan.
She takes full advantage and pushes her tongue against mine.
The taste of winter mint floods my senses, and I chase the flavor as I lick and suck while her other hand clasps my neck, pulling me closer.
Not an inch of space is left between our bodies, and I know she can feel the effect she has on me everywhere, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, each stuttered breath and ragged inhale, every moan that rumbles in my throat, and the bulge rapidly growing in my pants.
Just when I think I can’t take another minute of this without being inside of her, she pulls away and steps back, untangling herself from me.
The gravity of the situation hits me, where we are, what we’re supposed to be doing.
We’re in the storage closet of a school making out like teenagers.
My kid’s school. And Bella is her teacher.
But fuck, I like the way she feels under my fingertips.
Her hand rubs against her bottom lip as she stares at me, and I have trouble deciphering her expression. “Ummm…”
Ummm? That was the best fucking kiss of my life, and all I get is an ummm?
She must see the annoyance on my face, and she holds her hands up like she doesn’t want me to come any closer.
“Was it that bad? I’m kinda out of practice,” I say, scratching my neck, my nerves getting the better of me.
“Are you kidding me? Your tongue was doing more tricks than a poodle at the National Dog show. I felt like an amateur trying to keep up.”
“You liked it?”
“A little too much.” She waves a hand in front of her crotch, and my eyebrows shoot up. “I’m going to need a minute before we go back out there.”
“Are you telling me you’re wet? That you’re standing in a storage closet dripping for me?” My voice is low, hungry.
“And he’s a dirty talker. What are you trying to do to me?” She says the last part like she’s talking to an imaginary being in the sky.
I take a step closer to her and grab her still-outstretched hands, pulling her flush with me again.
“Fuck it,” she says. She grabs my cheeks and kisses me hard. Desperately. Like I’m the last cookie on Santa’s plate and she hasn’t eaten in days.
When I feel her grind her pelvis against me, I push her back against the shelving unit, holding the back of her head so she doesn’t bump it against the hard wood.
She hikes a leg up on my hip, and I grip it as I run a hand down her other thigh, encouraging her to climb me.
And she does, like a tree, wrapping her legs so tight around my waist that I can’t help but grind my cock against her center.
“That’s it, use me. Make a mess in those panties,” I say as I kiss down the side of her neck.
She arches her back, pushing her pussy against me as she rocks back and forth against me.
The door handle jiggles, and we pull back, looking at each other in panic.
“Is someone in there?” a nasally voice calls out. “I forgot my key.”
“Amber,” Bella whispers.
I set her down and readjust myself as I take in the flush of her cheeks, her swollen lips, the small mark I made on her neck. Shit.
“Coming!” Bella calls out as she retucks her shirt and smooths a hand through her hair.
“The door automatically locks behind us, so you have to have a key to get in,” she explains as she moves to open it.
Amber walks in, pushing past Bella as though she knows exactly what she wants.
I take a step back against the wall in the cramped space to allow her to pass.
She grabs a box and walks out, stopping at the door briefly with her back to us.
She turns her head slightly. “If this is how you two are going to run Santa’s Workshop, I’ll find someone else to take over. ”
I can see the anger flash in Bella’s eyes.
“Maybe we wouldn’t have to spend so much time in a closet if the PTO president wasn’t setting us up to fail.
Boxes aren’t labeled, inventory is missing, and that joke of a stack of paperwork is atrocious.
My seventh-grade boy has better organizational skills. ”
A laugh bursts out of me because I know how unorganized teenage boys are.
Amber’s face doesn’t move as she speaks in a fake-as-fuck tone. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” And then she leaves as the door slams shut behind her.
“What the fuck is her problem?”
“I hooked up with her husband in high school.”
“Oh shit.”
“It wasn’t serious, and they weren’t together then or anything. But a while back, we were at the bar after a PTO meeting, and he got drunk and started talking to me rather loudly about how he wished she was like me in bed.”
“The fuck?” I clench my hands into fists.
“The fucked-up part was Jake, my ex, thought it was funny and started comparing notes. That was the beginning of the end of my marriage. It became clear I was more of an object than a person to him. Luckily, I don’t have to see Jake much, but Chuck is constantly popping up at the school or the bar.
Anyway, Amber hasn’t liked me since, and we don’t invite her to the after-hours PTO meetings anymore. ”
I have no words as the anger courses through me, the need to protect this precious woman strong. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve seen how she cares for those around her and gives back to her community, and I can’t imagine anyone seeing her for anything less than she is. Incredible.
“What do we need to do to make this the best Santa’s Workshop ever?”
She laughs, and there’s a twinkle in her light blue eyes. “Now we’re talking.”