Chapter 13 #2
Graham’s eyes flared in rage. “Either she comes now, or the judge can issue a subpoena. He’s at the station now.”
“Well, I’ll join her then.”
“No.” He put his hand between us. “She comes alone.”
Hunter’s chin lifted. He took one slow breath through his nose before he spoke. “You can’t keep me from the station.”
“No, but I can keep you from interfering with an active investigation.”
“This is outrageous!”
“Doesn’t need to be. Meet us there in…” Graham glanced to the clock. “Three hours.”
Hunter’s eyes were red-rimmed, and he flicked the pad of his forefinger with his thumbnail—something he did when he was deep in thought. A moment passed before he spoke. “Three hours? Christ, mate. Can’t take that long to answer a few questions, can it?”
Graham moved to the door and held it open for me. “It can when we’re backed up. Today’s one of those days. Maggie...” He held out his arm directing me out the door.
I gave Hunter a quick peck, grabbed my coat, and followed Graham out the door.
Once in the interceptor, I settled in and clicked my seat belt.
I looked over at him as we passed through the Colonial District. He stared straight ahead, jaw set, yet the rest of him was relaxed—to casual for taking someone in—unless... there were no questions. “Three hours?” I asked. “How many questions could Nettles possibly have?”
“I thought you said we were going to the precinct,” I said, staring past the garland-lined barricades blocking the road ahead to the magical North Pole display set up in town square.
Evergreens flocked with fake snow lined the streets, creating a sense of colonial holiday merriment.
Dead center, in the middle of Five Corners, was a set, complete with Santa’s sleigh, a red velvet throne, and women in little elf outfits with bells on their hats and tips of their shoes—hell, I wouldn’t have been surprised if their tits jingled all the way to the candy cane buffet.
“What the hell is going on?”
“I just have to take a few photos, and we can be on our way.” Graham unbuttoned his uniform, revealing black leather straps gripping his chest like he was something meant to be restrained.
Oh, my God, he’s wearing a fucking harness. Be still my horny little heart.
I blinked a few times at him while he removed his uniform and chucked everything over his shoulder into the back seat.
“What the fuck is happening right now?” I asked, both aroused and incredibly confused. “The town’s okay with you shutting down its epicenter so you can take naked pictures for the precinct?”
Graham paused for a moment, then that stupid rakish grin spread across his face again as he looked at me with a cocked brow.
“Baby, I am the epicenter,” he said smoothly as he removed his boots and shimmied out of his pants so he was sitting there in only that damn harness and a smile that could soften the toughest bitch.
I watched as his stomach rose and fell with each breath… how the leather creaked slightly, pulling tight with every inhale.
I shouldn’t have stared.
I mean—I already knew what everything looked like… what he looked like… how he felt… but it didn’t matter.
Watching the way his soft fur trailed down his abs took my breath away every damn time, so that phenomenon wasn’t new. But then he reached into the back of the SUV, shifting his body so his chest was mere inches away from my face. Then his scent of salt, leather, and cedarwood wafted over me.
I nearly squealed as I took it in. My breathing intensified, and an aching heat drenched my pussy at the thought of that chest against mine, my legs wrapped around his waist, my fingers gripping tight around that harness—holding on for dear life while he plunged inside of me, fucking me against the seat…
no… the wall… or maybe in the back of the sleigh while the elves tried to shield the reindeer’s eyes.
He fell back into his seat with a pair of leather boots, a red coat with white fur trim, red velvet pants, and a Santa hat with a big poofy ball clutched tightly in his grip.
“Do you see what they make me do?”
His words jolted me from the filthy thoughts. I shook my head, coughed a little, and slammed my eyes shut for a moment.
“I mean…” I carefully glanced back at him, hoping the heat from my cheeks wasn’t obvious. “You could say no. It’s just a thought.”
“—and miss out on making all the boys in town nervous?” He opened his door, stepped out, slipped his red pants on, and stuffed one foot into his boot followed by the second. “Max, please,” he said, lacing up his boot. “Making them nervous is pretty much in my job description.”
In one swift motion, he swung the coat around his back, slipped his hands into the sleeves, then donned a pair of big black leather gloves.
“You’re worried about making the boys nervous? I’d be more afraid of the line of their horny women waiting to sit on your lap and ask Santa for favors.”
He smirked, tied on a ridiculously realistic Santa beard, and cocked his head, signaling me to follow him. “Those horny women? They give the biggest tips when they’re on my lap. Even bigger if I’m a little…” He lowered his voice. “Bricked.”
“Jesus—”
He chuckled. “Like I said… the things I do for this town.”
With every step, the metal rings jangled against his skin, reminding me there was a fucking harness strapped on that body—instead of me.
I was a goner—and he utilized that fact to make me weak at the knees and unable to form coherent sentences with his cocky smirks, random muscle flexing, and nonchalant penile adjustments directed my way.
Nettles was already waiting near the edge of the display, hands in his coat pockets, toothpick working steadily in the corner of his mouth.
He pulled Graham aside, whispered something into his ear, then patted him on the back and returned to his car.
Judging by the look on Graham’s face, it wasn’t good news.
“Hey,” I said, stepping in close as Graham sat down in the red velvet throne. “You alright?”
The smirk was gone. “Yeah, they found another body.”
“Like me?” I swallowed.
He nodded and smoothed the pants over his thighs.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m going to need you to move. You’re in the shot,” said the photographer.
“Give me twenty minutes, and we’ll be out of here. Make sure you grab some pix for Derek. I know he’s sad he missed this.” Graham plastered on that classic sexy smirk, and my knees went weak again.
I stood to the side, watching as they directed him—posing him like the prop the town craved.
The shoot started as one would expect, just a regular holiday-themed session to attract the townspeople to the upcoming jamboree—Graham behaved as a Santa would, throwing gifts in the air, maybe a sexy shot or two with the busty elves—nothing too crazy.
But then, about halfway through, Graham took off his coat, then his hat…
and by the end, he was wearing nothing but leather straps and a set of antlers and was eating carrots with the reindeer.
His leather harness looked oddly similar to Rudolph’s—minus the pouch for his…
reindeer bits. But I didn’t think anything of it until he got on all fours and an elf hooked him to the sleigh.
Oh… My… God…
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together, attempting to stifle what I thought may have been a laugh, but it could have actually been part moan. That harness looked too damn good on him, and the ridiculousness of this photoshoot got the best of me.
So, I did what any fully invested friend/lover would do. I pulled my phone out and snapped a few pics and texted them to our best friends. Now, of course, I couldn’t actually blackmail him… or rather shouldn’t, but a little insurance never hurt anyone.
Besides, what if these photos never made it to a calendar, or what if they were somehow destroyed? It was always a good idea to have some backup views in case they were needed for professional reenactment purposes… of course.
A devious little cackle escaped me as I filled my phone with as many shots as possible, sending a few of the best to Katie and Derek in our group chat.
Katie: What’s happening?
Derek: Mags????? Wtf?!
Evidence.
Katie: Of what? Going to jingle his bells or take him for a ride or something?
Yeah, something like that. Maybe both.
Derek: Oh, God. Do I have to be involved in this?
The second photo just loaded!
Someone type faster.
Send a different picture or something.
Anything!
I looked back to Graham and caught him at the perfect time. I snapped another shot and sent it.
Graham had stretched out like a cat. Ass up. Arms out front. Carrot still firmly planted between his teeth. The elves were beet red and giggling, hiding behind a scantily clad Mrs. Claus standing in the sleigh, ready to whip that reindeer into submission.
Katie: Bahahahahaha! Girl you’d better get a hold on your man! He told us it was a slutty Santa shoot. Not a naughty reindeer in kinky bondage kind of thing.
Derek: I may not respond for a while. I’ve got a date with a pair of bleach-filled goggles and mental floss.
Seriously, anything to get the thought of Graham’s asshole in the wild off my phone is greatly appreciated.
Katie:
“That’s a wrap!” yelled the photographer as he polished his lens and put the camera back in its case.
“Oh, thank God!” Graham groaned as he unhooked the sleigh and stood.
“Aww, I was just starting to get entertained,” I said.
“Yeah, so were the elves,” he grumbled, nodding his head towards the giggling elves in the corner.
“Do you get to keep the harness?” I asked, eyeing up the pouch barely holding him in.
He shot me a glare, followed by a smirk. “I’ll only keep it if you promise to be the one holding my reins.”
I huffed out a short breath, heat flushing my face in a smirk. God, he knew how to get my blood pumping. “Deal.”
Graham wiggled into his pants while he rolled his eyes at me. “You’re such a tease.”
“Maybe…” I winked.
“Captain said there’s been another body found. This one is super fresh. I want to take you to the morgue.”