Santa’s Baby (Naughtier and Naughtier Book 3)

I can’t hold back the grin on my face as I wander through the mall and it blows my mind to see how so many people grin back at me, especially young kids – waving at the happy elf in the bobble hat. I could get used to this. For real.

I get the charity work thing now, and why Reuben spends so much time as benefactor for other people. I’m used to serving humanity by getting people off to their wildest fantasies, which is cool, but putting effort into charity from the goodness of your own heart gives me a different kind of glow. I’m beginning to love my elf garb. I’m also loving the mall, too. This place is magnificent.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

To think this whole complex belongs to Reuben is beyond impressive. The whole bloody mall is owned by the man who owns my heart. I’m buzzing, alive. Me. And it’s all because of him.

The memory of first walking into Santa’s grotto and seeing him on his sleigh is burnt into my soul – Reuben’s stunning grey eyes staring at me in instant recognition. And now, here I am, having just fucked him in that same sleigh. What a crazy fucking ride.

I sit down and chill at Janie’s Bakes, and Jen’s recommendation was spot on. Their cappuccino and carrot cake are fucking yummy. I’ll be a regular customer, that’s for sure. I’ll be trying everything on their menu.

I survey the surroundings, no longer intimidated by the love in people’s eyes as they share snacks with their young families. I’d usually be glued to my phone, busying myself with social media, or browsing through my proposals, but I’m not interested. I replied to yet another message from Josh earlier, giving lame excuses about taking some time out. Busy with friends.

He’s going to get on my case soon, and I know it. If it was the other way around, I’d be climbing the walls wondering what the fuck was up with him. But I suspect he knows the truth.

I’ve met someone. Finally. That’s what he’ll be thinking.

He must be itching for me to blurt out the news and share the details. Him and Ella would be over the moon to see me happy and settled with someone cool. But they wouldn’t be quite so over the moon if they knew that someone cool just happened to be one of our bosses. Their congratulatory smiles would turn to horror and a serious round of are you fucking insane?!

The answer is yes. I am fucking insane.

But it’s making me happy.

Not the I love cock because I’m a dirty bitch kind of happy. Or the I have the best besties in the world kind of happy. Or the look how nice the view is from my Belgravia apartment kind of happy. Actually happy.

Real happy.

In love happy.

That term still gives me the heebies along with butterflies, but I eat the rest of my carrot cake regardless. Delicious.

I hope Reuben’s got a filth fest planned for later on, even though I’m still battered from last night. Santa makes me a very hungry girl, and it’s not for carrot cake. I want another late session where the founder side of him comes to the fore, and he sends me to subspace with a smile. I’m down for some risky exhibitionism after the session in the grotto. Maybe he could take me back to the trash bin site one night and fuck my brains out far better than my client did. I’d like that.

It feels like a lifetime ago, as though Reuben has been in my life for years, not just weeks.

I get tingles remembering him standing there in the club as I went out for my session with my client…

I want to call up the proposal, just to bring the memories back, so I take out my phone for a cursory glance over things while I’m finishing up my cappuccino. May as well take a minute to check out what fresh proposals are actually coming through. Client 2906 – the guy from the trash bins – has sent me a new proposal. So have a whole plethora of my regular clients. Not one of my clients has turned down the proposals Reuben shunted without me knowing, and there are a load of others I don’t recognise. I could fill my calendar up until at least March with a series of thumb clicks… but that isn’t the only reason I’m on here. Not if I’m honest with myself.

I’m also checking for any correspondence or questions from Orla about my founders’ postponement. Luckily, there is nothing from her. My message inbox is up to date.

Thank fucking God for that. My flu bug lie must have been sufficient enough to explain my absence.

I have no idea what the hell I’m going to end up doing with all these proposals after Christmas. Josh and Ells do fine with each other being entertainers, happy for each other to fuck clients without any issues – but it’s obvious that Reuben isn’t that kind of guy.

The weird thing is, I’m not sure I’d want him to be.

I finish my cappuccino and shove my phone back in my bag. Fuck knows what’s going to happen in a few weeks, but I don’t care right now. This is a Christmas that I’m going to properly enjoy for once. Caroline can have her glory at Josh’s family table and I won’t give a toss. I’ll be having fun of my own.

I’ve never been to this part of the mall, right at the very top. I’m at the furthest part from the escalators when I see a sign for a place called Seduction – a lingerie and sex toy store. They have some festive looking bras and panties on the mannequins in the window, with red lace and a white boa trim. Cute. They have a pair of panties with Santa’s Baby written on them, and a bodice in red and gold. Impressive, and that’s just in the storefront. I’m sure the grotto will cope for an extra few minutes without me, since I can’t resist checking out the treasures inside. Reuben might well get a few Christmas surprises for later.

It’s great to see this place does plus size. There’s a decent selection of Christmas bras. Hell, one of them even lights up with twinkles, so that’s a winner. I get some Santa’s Baby panties, and some red and gold stockings, and one of the flashy red bra sets with a boa trim. There’s a whole selection of Christmas nightwear, too. A satin slip with Mrs Claus on the front, and some cutesy slippers to go along with it.

I laugh out loud when I reach the back of the store and find their toys section. They have some Santa’s sack love eggs, and a Rudolph’s red nosed vibrator, and a whole rack of other goodies destined for my basket.

I’m on my way to the checkout when I see their Christmas treats selection. I do a double take at one of the gifts they have on offer, because no fucking way! I pick up the snow globe in shock. A woman riding Santa in a sleigh chair. She’s naked, with huge tits, while he’s in his Santa outfit, his gloved hands gripping her fat ass. Their expressions are so hilarious that I’m laughing when I present it to the checkout assistant.

If only I could fucking tell her. That was me downstairs earlier! I was riding Santa in the fucking grotto! I’d love to see the look on her face.

I’d love to see the look on anyone’s face, actually. I’d love to scream it from the rooftops and shout to the whole mall that I’m the dirty elf who got to ride the perfect Santa, Reuben Sinclair, in the grotto earlier. I’d shake the snow globe and laugh my head off in glee.

But I can’t. I have to keep my big trap shut.

I pack my items in one of the discreet Seduction shopping bags, then head back down the escalator, cursing my luck that I can’t at least be a gobby cow to Josh and Ella. If only it wasn’t forbidden, and if only they wouldn’t try to talk some bloody sense into me.

One person I can share it with though, is Santa himself.

I can’t wait until tonight to show Reuben the snow globe. No chance. I want to shake it in his face with a cackle, and hear him laugh along with me. I can’t wait until he sees the woman’s big tits and ass, and Santa’s red cheeks. It’s bloody perfect.

The rest of the surprises can wait until later, but not this one. I dash along from the escalator to the back of the grotto, because it won’t hurt if I sneak in for a second or two. I can say hi to the kids on his lap and wait for them to leave, and then I can steal my opportunity. Not even Jen or Evelyn need to know, and I’ll be able to block out the view from Toby just fine. He’ll be too busy on his phone anyway.

I go in through the exit door, so I don’t need to go past Jen and Evelyn or the queue. I feel like a dirty sneak as I approach the grotto doorway, pulling it open to see my hunky Santa sitting in the sleigh seat with nobody on his lap. What a fucking bonus.

“Reuben!” I laugh a cackle laugh. “Got something to show you–”

I already have the snow globe in my hand when I see the two men seated opposite him, one in Toby’s chair. They are professionals, both of them in sharp tailored suits – and they are definitely not there for a goodie bag. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up on instinct, and my stomach lurches in recognition, just from the scent of their cologne.

I know these men.

Even though I’ve never seen them before, I know them.

Know them.

As their eyes lock onto mine, my world stops dead in its tracks. One of them – the stockier one of the pair – has a particular paunch to his stomach. In my memory I can feel it slapping against my ass as he fucks me. I can recall the slap of flesh on flesh by heart.

Time slows to nothing as I look at his hands. His fingers. Knowing they have plunged inside me when I’m already crying full, and as for the other guy…

I recognise him from more than the founders’ meetings. Fuck. He’s from Westminster. One of the famous MPs…

Just like that, my memories consume me, my flesh on fire as the snow globe goes tumbling from my hand. It smashes on the grotto floor in a glittery puddle, and I take a step back, my mouth open wide.

“Creamgirl,” the MP says. “What a surprise.” He pauses. “Only it’s not such a surprise, is it?”

I look at Reuben, and he’s as pale as a ghost, his hand on his forehead and his eyes full of horror.

“Glad to see you’ve recovered from the flu,” the other guy says. “Such a shame you had to cancel on us.” He glares at Reuben. “Only now we know why. Did you think we were fucking imbeciles? Taking the piss out of us like we’re blind to your bullshit?”

I hate myself for bursting in here, and I hate the horror on Reuben’s face. The shame.

I want to drop to my knees and beg forgiveness, from him as well as them. I want to take the blame for the whole lot of it, to make it better, and worship them, and tell them anything they want to hear, just for the chance to make things right for the man I love.

The man who I’ve driven insane along with me.

Because that’s what I do.

I create carnage. I fall in love, and it turns to shit, and then it spits me out again.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and it sounds so pathetic it’s embarrassing. “I, um, took up volunteering at the grotto because I got a thing for Reuben and I–”

Reuben holds up a hand. His eyes are full of pain.

“Stop, Tiff. It’s ok.”

But it’s not ok. It’s anything but fucking ok. It’s a disaster. A tragedy. A fucking nightmare.

“Leave us,” Reuben says. “The grotto is closed, Tiff.”

“But I–”

“Go,” he tells me, and he means it. He really does want me to leave.

That single word is a stab through the heart. I’m powerless. Open and vulnerable and such a fucking idiot. I should have known all along this would end in tears.

I manage to retreat before the tears do hit me. The people in the mall are a blurry mess as I try to dig my phone from my bag.

My fingers are shaking when I click on my contacts list.

Please.

Please answer.

Please, please, please fucking answer!

When I hear Josh’s voice, the sobs come rushing, threatening to eat me alive. I keep walking, blanking out everything as I focus on breathing. I step out onto the street into the winter chill, but I don’t feel it. I’m numb.

Numb and fucking terrified.

“Tiff?” Josh’s voice sounds so far away. “Tiff? Are you alright? Tiff?!”

“No,” I whimper, feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. I hate myself.

I hate the way my stupid dreams have ripped the ground from under my feet.

“What’s happened?! Do you need help? I’m coming now. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll be there.”

I manage to hail a passing taxi and throw myself into the back seat.

“I’m in a cab. You don’t need to come,” I tell my best friend.

“Ok, but you need to come right here, right now, understand me? Straight to Belgravia and up to ours. No more excuses, Tiff. Just get here.”

“On my way,” I manage to say, and then let the tears fall.