“Give them gifts? Yeah, I know. I see the greed and the tantrums in my store. Yesterday, I watched a man punch out another man just to get the last drone in our display. Christmas spirit is everywhere.”
“What happened to you?” she whispered.
I tucked my thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans. “Not relevant.”
“It’s very relevant. Surely there’s some way for us to come to a compromise.”
“You don’t have anything to offer.”
“Nothing?”
The innocent hope in her expression didn’t help the precarious state of my libido. I wanted to bend her over my brother’s desk. But exceptional pussy wasn’t enough to make me face all that laughter and light. My cock’s reaction to her certainly seemed to state otherwise, but I was not ruled by my dick.
Maybe if I lost myself in her sweet body for a few days I’d even out enough to get through the holiday. But a few hours wouldn’t suffice.
Not if I had to put on that damn Santa suit.
“Not sure you’re prepared to put that sort of chip on the table, Miss Kane.” My voice was husky and low to my own ears. The flush in her cheeks made my cock throb.
I watched the realization hit her.
She stumbled back a step.
I caught her before she tripped on the edge of the rug. Her sweater was soft over her narrow back. She gripped the front of my shirt.
“Just what would you do to get me to play Santa, Miss Kane?”