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Excerpt:
Chapter One
Nick
“Hell, no.” I state that firmly as I look at Kathy, shocked that she could come up with such an idea. “Do you honestly think I’m going to climb into a fat suit and let other peoples’ kids sit on my lap all night?”
Kathy frowns at me. Her iron-gray curls don’t move, plastered against her head in a style that defies even one hair to slide out of place. She is militant in most approaches, but she keeps me focused and does her job well. She used to be my father’s executive assistant, and I kept her on in the position when I took over for him.
Most the time, she’s right on target with everything, but this suggestion is ludicrous.
“Mr. Stone, do I need to remind you that nobody likes you?”
Did I mention she’s blunt as hell too? I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t need to be liked to run the company effectively.”
She frowns at me. “Of course not, but it helps if people actually tolerate you. Did I tell you about your image from the quarterly briefing being used as a dartboard in the breakroom?”
I shrug, mildly annoyed by that, but unable to summon true outrage. “Employees need a way to blow off steam. I might as will be the scapegoat.”
Kathy snorts. “You’re not just a scapegoat, Mr. Stone. You have a completely different style than your father. People love and admire Aiden, but you haven’t really made any effort to get people to warm up to you since you took over the CEO position three months ago.”
“I wasn’t aware that was in the job description.” I can’t keep the biting sarcasm out of my tone.
Her eyes narrow. “You’ve made a lot of changes rapidly, and while the company will probably benefit from them, employees are having a hard time seeing anything but you disrupting everything. It would behoove you to endear yourself a little to them. All I’m saying is, since Jerry isn’t feeling well and won’t be able to play Santa, it couldn’t hurt you to get a little goodwill currency built up by taking on the role yourself.”
“I’m not putting on a ridiculous Santa Claus suit for the Christmas party. It’s not happening, so forget it, Kathy.” My tone is resolute, and the discussion is over.
So how do I find myself putting on the padded suit later that evening in a utility closet tucked away outside the largest multifunction room available in the building? Kathy has a way of wearing me down, but also, I suspect she’s right. I’m aware no one really cares for me being in a position of control in the company.
When people have problems, they always go to my brothers before me. Oz and Noel are both more approachable people, but they also aren’t quite as good at keeping it all together. That’s why Dad named me to take over for him when he decided to pursue an early retirement. The employees should know my father well enough to understand he had good reasons to name me his successor and respect that, but I’m clearly expecting too much.
I’m still not entirely sure how Kathy convinced me to do this as I slip on a fake white beard and long hair, along with a faux fur-trimmed hat that makes my head sweat right away. “Twenty minutes, and I’m out of here.”
Kathy nods. “Of course, Mr. Stone.”
“I guess you might as well call me Nick,” I say with a slight twitch my lips. Kathy’s insisted on calling me Mr. Stone since I took over, but she calls my father by his given name. Right now, Nick is appropriate enough, considering I’m dressed like Santa Claus. I certainly bear no resemblance to the saint part though.
That’s immediately obvious to me as I step into the room and see the Santa dais. I approach and find a sexy little elf waiting to help. Of course, she’s not really an elf. She’s just a young woman, at least ten years my junior, dressed in a green and white dress at least a size too small.
She has generous curves, and I can’t help appreciating the shape of her legs in the white and green striped stockings she wears. Gold boots on her feet curl at the toes, and she has jingle bells sewn onto them. Her hat is green and white, also with jingle bells, and she looks like the quintessential elf.
She also looks completely fuckable.
“Nick, this is Holly. She volunteered to be an elf.” Kathy makes the introductions before she nods to both of us and moves away, clearly planning to make sure everything else is in place for the party before the doors open in a few minutes, allowing the employees of Stone International to cut loose for an evening of family fun centered around the holidays.
Bah, humbug. When I see it, I can’t help thinking how expensive all this is, and what little use it is as well.
Then I look at Holly in that slightly too-tight elf costume, and I’m glad I’m wearing baggy red pants that hide I’m suddenly as hard as can be. Maybe there’s an upside to this event. I move closer, compelled to smell her hair. It’s a rich brown shade, with curls spilling out of a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. Scent has always been a big part of attraction and arousal for me.
When I step closer, her scent of cinnamon and orange hits me, and she’s like a holiday treat just waiting to be unwrapped. I practically salivate at the thought, and my cock is harder still. As I get closer, her scent and my awareness of her overwhelms me. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know her and haven’t even talked to her yet. I’m determined Holly’s coming home with me tonight. I’ll unwrap her like a gift and enjoy her all night.
She smiles at me, looking a little uncertain. Is she shy? She seems to be, or maybe she’s just shy with me, because when the other elf shows up a few minutes later, they’re soon giggling and talking like old friends.
I bide my time, waiting until she’s alone again before I get closer. “So, you’re Holly?”
She nods. “I guess you’re St. Nick?” There’s a twinkle in her eyes as she asks the question.
I smirk a little. “You should know I’m no saint, Holly.”
She winks at me, so maybe she’s not shy. “And I’m no elf, St. Nick, but here we are.”
I nod, stepping closer still. Just a few inches separate us now, and it takes everything I have not to reach out and put my hands on her hips, wanting to pull her against the hard length of my cock pressing against the Santa pants. I have to gain control of that, because the doors are opening, and kids are already starting to line up to meet St. Nick.
Rather than bring myself closer to temptation, I content myself with another deep inhalation of her unique scent before moving over to sit on what looks like a gold spray-painted throne. There are gifts all around, and the tree has been expertly designed by a no doubt expensive designer.
It’s monochrome silver, and I can’t help thinking it doesn’t really scream festive, at least for children. I make a mental note to ask Kathy to ensure next year’s tree is more childlike and homier. Then I brace myself for the inevitable tide of other peoples’ children.
Kids are fine in small doses and from a distance, but I’m not a child person. I’m certainly not the type to enjoy personal interaction with them or having them climb on my lap and ask for things. Still, I grit my teeth and try to get through it, reminding myself these are my employees’ children, and Holly’s look of approval directed my way sometimes certainly helps ease the discomfort of playing Santa.
At least no one pees or pukes on me as the kids start coming in waves. Before I know it, I’m actually relaxing and sort of enjoying the experience. Most of the kids are greedy little butt-faces, just like I was as a kid, but there are a few sweet exceptions.
About halfway through, a little girl sits on my lap and asks for her brother to come home from the NICU safe and sound, and Holly and I exchange a glance. I can see the devastation in her expression, and my chest pangs for a moment as well. As soon as the little girl is off with her mother, I gesture for Holly to come over.
She does, bending down. I try not to notice a hint of cleavage revealed by the too-tight dress as she does so. “Ask Kathy to find out what we can about that family and see what we can do to help them have a happy holiday.”
Her eyes light up with approval, and she licks her lips as she grins at me. “That’s a great idea, St. Nick.”
I assume her nickname is a teasing attempt to get me into the holiday spirit, and while I’d find it irritating from other people, I don’t mind hearing it on her lips. There’s a lot I’d like to do with her lips, and it extends well beyond hearing her call me by my first name without the honorific of Saint.
