JINGLING BELLS

I looked over at the row of closed doors. “Copy room’s seen things, I hear.”

“Probably haunted,” she said, then giggled and followed it up with, “If you catch Aaron in a closet, call me.”

Not a chance in hell. Hopefully I was in the closet with him. Wait…

I raised my glass in salute. “Will do, Marnie.”

She grinned, pleased, and wandered off in search of more drama.

The holiday playlist changed songs. “Santa Baby.” Party games started at the next table. Carla was trying to start the White Elephant exchange, shouting rules like a referee for the mildly inebriated.

The party rolled on. Janet toasted the entire office with a speech that included three unintentional innuendos, and an actual contest for the ugliest sweater. I made the finals, but lost to a manager whose sweater had a battery-powered fire hazard attached.

I didn’t care. I’d seen Aaron’s face light up when he saw me in the bells. That was win enough.

Near the end of the evening, Aaron found me beside the dessert table, eyeing a tray of cookies shaped like snowmen, their faces vaguely haunted.

“You want to get out of here for a minute?” He smiled. “My office is less festive. But quieter.”

Every fantasy I’d had in the last week replayed at once. I followed him through the party crowd and down the hall.

His office was glass-walled, overlooking the city lights. Winter pressed against the windows, but inside it was just us.

He shut the door. The instant click sent a jolt through me.

There was a pause. Not awkward. Just full.

Aaron crossed the space and braced his hand on the desk behind me. His body was right up against mine, no hesitating, just confident and close. I could taste the mint on his breath. Could see, up close, the little scar on his cheek.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he said.

My brain, that treacherous bastard, decided now was a great time to flash through every possible dumb thing I could say. I went with honesty, which only required one word. “Same.”

The sweater didn’t stand a chance. He wrenched it up, and the bells gave one last jangle before getting muffled. My shirt went next and then his tie. He dropped it on the floor, eyes never leaving mine.

He smiled. “You were the best thing there.” He slipped a hand along my neck.

I let him pull me close. Our mouths met, soft at first, like he was trying to learn me by taste. He was mint and a little like whiskey, and I wanted more. The drag of his hands up my sides were hungry. His tongue pressed deep, making my knees weak.

The kiss turned wild, seeking, demanding. I grabbed his hips and yanked him closer.

He trailed his mouth down my neck, biting and licking, not at all gentle. Every touch had purpose. He unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down, leaving me exposed and throbbing in anticipation. His hand wrapped around my erection, stroking with just the right grip, thumb gliding over the head.

I groaned, already so turned on it hurt.

Aaron was hard, cock pressed up against my thigh as he ground on me, wanting more friction. He leaned in and bit my neck, not enough to mark, but enough to get my attention.

We found the edge of his desk. He pushed my pants down further, then lowered to his knees, mouth opening around my cock, lips hot and wet and way more skilled than any CEO had a right to be. He took his time, swallowing me deeper, then pulling back so he could lick and suck, teasing just enough to make me shake.

I leaned back, bracing myself, hips jerking forward every time he swallowed me. Just when I felt my balls draw tight to my body, he pulled off my cock.

“Turn around,” he grunted.

A CANDY CANE FOR SANTA

“Santa looks desperate,” Mason whispered. His lips grazed my jaw, teeth nipping at my stubble-burned face.

“I haven’t even gotten what I want for Christmas yet,” I hissed back. My voice came out cracked, needy.

Mason laughed and bit my lip. Then he dropped to his knees. Yeah, on the linoleum, between my legs. The sight almost shorted out my brain.

He worked my belt free, his fingers quick. The motion was rough enough to yank the padded belly up. The foam shifted, and I lost it, laughing as the fake stomach practically hit me in the chin before Mason yanked it off completely.

“Santa’s losing weight,” I muttered, breathless.

Green eyes flashed up, hungry as hell. “You’re all I want,” he said, like it was as simple as that. Like it was the only truth in the universe.

Those big hands cupped my thighs, spreading my legs until he could settle between them. I pushed up, helpless, my cock straining so hard against the stupid pants that I thought I’d rip right out of them.

Mason found the zipper, eased it down, and just like that, my dick sprang free, flushed and leaking. The air in the small room was cold, but I burned for him. He took a second, just staring at it, lips parted, like he was about to say something. Maybe he didn’t need words.

He spit into his palm and slicked my length, thumb rubbing circles right over the head. Every muscle in my body bucked. My dick kicked in his grip. I hissed, unable to play it cool.

“You’re gonna kill me, man,” I whimpered.

He grinned and bent forward, wrapping those lips around the head of my dick, tongue lapping up the salty pre-cum.

For a wild second, my brain short-circuited. I grabbed the back of Mason’s head, fingers twisting in messy elf hair. Fuck, this was happening. Mason, on his knees, lips wrapped around me, tongue flicking the tip, then sliding all the way down, slow and firm. Heat shot through my body, twisting my belly into knots.

He took my cock deep, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing with every pass. I nearly sobbed.

“God, Mason,” I panted. “Don’t stop.”

He hummed, sending a pulse right down my shaft, and then he swallowed me farther. My hips jerked up, desperate for more, but he held me in place, hands gripping my thighs so hard I could feel it through the suit.

There was nothing delicate about it. He wanted to devour me. Each suck, each slick drag of his tongue down my length, sent flashes behind my eyes. I pressed his face closer, fucking into his mouth as gently as I could manage, though my whole body was shaking now.

Sweat prickled every inch of me. My balls drew tight, ready to blow. He must’ve felt it, because he loosened his grip, stroking my cock as he sucked the tip, tongue toying with the slit. My toes curled in my boots. Hell, I might’ve scratched the cheap linoleum with them.

He twisted his wrist as he pumped, mouth working in perfect rhythm. The pressure built and built, tighter than coiled tinsel, until I lost it, arching up and shooting hot into his mouth.

Mason took it all, licking me clean. My vision danced with stars. For a long moment, I sank back in the chair, gasping. My whole body felt boneless.

He kissed the softening tip, then tucked me back into the suit, making sure I was clean and covered. His fingers lingered at my waist, like he wanted me to know I was his.

“You still with me?” Mason grinned, chin wet, lips kiss-bright.

“I think I lost consciousness for a second,” I admitted. “Can’t feel my legs. ‘Santa Sleighed at Mall by Own Elf.’ You’re gonna make headlines.”

He laughed, low and happy, and stood, bending to press a gentle kiss against my lips. I tasted myself, salty and sharp, and didn’t mind at all.

“You’re amazing,” he said, like it was obvious. Like I was the only Santa in the universe who mattered.

Heat pulsed through me. My hands trembled as I grabbed the front of his elf shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him hard. I wanted to taste all of him. Needed more.

“Fuck me,” I said, because subtlety wasn’t my thing. “Right now.”

DIAMOND PEAK HOTEL

“You okay?” His gaze flicked over my face.

“Yeah, just…I was gonna…you know?” I yanked the pillow closer. “Fantastic!”

He smiled, and something in my chest or maybe my stomach flipped. I wanted nothing more than to drop the pillow and see what he’d do if he saw my dick hard for him, but I didn’t have the guts. I gripped the pillow tighter instead.

Gabe set the food out, then turned and leaned against the dresser, arms folded. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he said. “It’s just dinner.”

“It’s not the dinner,” I blurted. Then instantly regretted it.

One eyebrow lifted, and for a second, he looked like he was trying to decode me. “You sure?” he said, casual but not uncaring.

Positive.

My brain scrambled to focus on food as he doled out a plate. The smell hit me with a vengeance, and my stomach growled so loud it was embarrassing. That’s what’s embarrassing?

He watched every move I made, like he knew exactly what I’d been doing.

I poked a chunk of roast with my fork. “You didn’t have to bring dinner.”

“I wanted to.” He shrugged, but something about the way his eyes tracked my face told me he was doing more than just a favor.

“You always take care of lost causes?” I tried for a joke, but my mouth was dry.

Gabe didn’t hesitate. “Only the cute ones.”

I jammed potatoes into my mouth to keep from saying something even dumber. The food was amazing. But I couldn’t get comfortable, not with the pillow pressed awkwardly in my lap and my body refusing to calm down.

Gabe stepped closer, holding his own bowl. He’d ditched the front-desk persona. Here, he was just a guy in my room, relaxed but alert, like he saw right through me.

“You’re flushed,” Gabe said softly.

Because you just had your hands and mouth all over me.

“Probably the altitude,” I muttered.

He grinned, slow and laser-focused. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Somehow, I doubted that. He had no idea how close I’d come to getting caught mid-wank session. Or maybe he did. Maybe he could smell it on my skin. The thought sent a jolt through my cock, which only made the pillow situation worse.

I risked a sip of Sprite, which promptly fizzed up my nose. Classy. I covered my mouth, coughing, and Gabe’s smile only got wider.

“Good?” he asked.

I didn’t think he was talking about my soda.

“Everything’s good,” I said, a slight squeak to my voice.

He stepped in, took my plate, and set it to the side. I couldn’t move, not if I wanted to keep my secrets, but when he stood over me, looking down, the world dropped away. His hands braced on either side of my shoulders, caging me in with his body.

Then he kissed me. No warning, just his mouth pressing down on mine, slow and deep, like he wanted to taste every inch.

I gasped, lips parting, and his tongue slipped in. He tasted like coffee and dinner, something easy and familiar. My whole body buzzed. My hands dug into the pillow, knuckles white as I tried not to collapse.

It was like my fantasy had stepped out of my head and taken physical form. This couldn’t be real.

Gabe pulled back, barely a breath away. “You want this…” It was a statement, not a question

My breath hitched. “If I say no, you’ll probably have to call an ambulance.”

He laughed and kissed me again, harder this time, and my head spun. His hand touched the pillow, and before I could stop him, he tugged it to the side.

My erection was front and center. Underwear did nothing to hide how hard I was.

His eyes stayed on me. “Looks like you’ve been waiting for me.”

I was so aroused it almost hurt. “You have no idea.”

Gabe dropped to his knees on the floor, right in front of me. My heart nearly stopped. Then he pulled the waistband of my underwear down, exposing my cock.