Ivan has the bad luck to be the only elf at the naughty North Pole with fruitcake-flavored cum—and he’s not telling anyone. When fellow elf Jimmy hits on him, Ivan fears revealing his secret and losing a chance to have a real relationship with the sexy elf. After all, everybody hates fruitcake! Danni's wife Sheila is the Head Chef at the North Pole. Unfortunately, while Sheila hunts for the perfect recipe for fruitcake, she neglects her wifely duties. So when Ivan tells Danni about his dilemma, she devises a plan to solve both of their problems. Can these two girls help Ivan realize he is perfect just the way he is? Will Danni's wife perfect her fruitcake recipe with Ivan's special ingredient? But most importantly, will Ivan have the courage to take Jimmy up on his offer?
A soft hand caressed mine. “Why don’t you like Jimmy?”
Naturally, Danni wouldn’t let it drop. “It’s not that,” I answered. “I like him a lot, actually. That’s the problem.”
She shook her head, her long black ponytail swaying. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Of course you don’t get it.” I brushed a lock of silky black hair off her brow. Her bangs were always falling in her eyes, and she didn’t flinch from my familiarity. “You’re perfect.”
Grinning, she said, “Well, that’s obvious. But it still doesn’t explain why you say you like Jimmy, yet you ignore all his advances.”
“Because I don’t know if I should do anything about it. He’ll just end up being disappointed.”
“I’m still going to go with, that makes absolutely no sense.” She gave me a head to toe once over. I managed a smile when she tipped back to take in my ass and give me a whistle—she was such a flirt. “You’re gorgeous, Ivan. And you’re funny. You forget I’ve seen you take care of those pathetic earthbound reindeer.”
“They’re not pathetic.”
“See what I mean? All the other Dökkálfar in the stables prefer to work with the flyers. But not you. You’re kind and patient. A real caregiver. So I ask you, what would Jimmy have to be disappointed about?”
I squirmed in my seat, unsure if I should tell her, but desperately wanting to. I had not breathed a word of it since I’d arrived, preferring to have my choice of lovers, rather than be laughed at like I had been in my hometown. But something about the sincerity, the kindness in Danni’s brown eyes made me feel like I should trust her. Like it was finally time to tell someone the truth.
“Because I taste like fruitcake.”