Mrs. Claus

SAM

After Evie left me alone in her bedroom, I scowled at the pink comforter and brooded. ~A fucking car salesman? Really?~

I’d spent years with my ex-wife, Carla, dumbing down my achievements, nagging me about my firm and how I wasn’t bringing in enough money to support her favored lifestyle of fancy restaurants, a giant home, and more diamonds than any man can afford.

I’d thought Evie knew how important my business was to me, especially since we actually worked together. She’d been so much help with the merger this week, talking like she truly understood what I was trying to accomplish.

But I guess as far as she cared—as far as she wanted her fucking parents to know—I might as well be a slimy used car salesman.

I was shocked out of my thoughts when Evie barged back in, slamming the door behind her, wearing…wow. ~What was she wearing?~

She leaned against the doorframe, breathing hard, clearly disturbed by something, but I barely noticed. My gaze shot straight to the healthy swell of her breasts, poking from an outfit she most certainly didn’t have on when she left the room.

The short, skimpy little dress—if you could call it that—tightly hugged her midriff, flaring at her hips, highlighting her hourglass shape, all leading to a provocative set of thigh-high red stockings lined with the same fluffy white material that trimmed the rest.

I was still pissed, but my cock was also hardening at a substantial rate.

With every second that ticked by, I got angrier. How dare she strut in here like that, seeking to seduce me like nothing had happened?

If she assumed she could simply slip into some cute little outfit and I would forgive her, she was about to learn otherwise. I might be a man, but I could think with my brain.

“What the hell are you wearing?” I demanded, gesturing toward her whole…everything.

“Why?” she asked in a flirty voice, thrusting those incredible tits even closer. “Don’t you like it?”

~Oh, some parts of me definitely like it.~

“No, Evie. We were just having a fight, remember? What do you think you’re playing at now, prancing around looking like that?”

She sighed, dropping the seduction act. “Look, I can explain…”

“Oh, can you? Can you really?” I demanded.

“Calm down, Vázquez.”

~Vázquez.~ She still had no idea how it affected me to hear my last name rolling off her tongue. Between that and the outfit, I could feel myself throbbing to bend her over, lift that pretty little dress, and sink myself balls deep, business casual be damned.

However, I refused to let her do this to me. Not after she’d embarrassed me in front of everyone down there. Not after she’d treated my accomplishments like nothing. I crossed my arms, staring her down.

“Look, I get it. You wanna look good in front of my family,” she said, stepping toward me. “But what does it matter if this whole thing is fake, anyway?”

“Don’t! Just…” I stumbled back, raising a palm. “Just don’t come any closer.”

She might look like an angel, but her reaction was something entirely devilish. It was like she thought my demand for space was merely a challenge to be conquered—a rule to be broken—a line to be crossed.

A naughty grin appeared on her smoldering lips as she took another step. “Or what?”

“Evie, don’t fuckin’ play with me right now,” I snarled. “I am~ not~ in the mood.”

“Really?” she asked, gesturing toward my slacks.

I glanced at my groin. The tent in my pants completely contradicted me.

“That’s not what I meant.” I huffed, rolling my eyes.

“Oh? Then explain it to me,” she pleaded, batting her lashes.

It was like witnessing me struggle with my arousal had flipped that hot little switch in her mind to fuck-mode. She closed in on me, and my back hit the wall as I took my last step.

Evie advanced as if she was basking in pushing my boundaries. She pinned my body between hers and the drywall with a sexual gaze.

“Evie,” I murmured, determined to explain myself before she distracted me out of my anger entirely. “I don’t want to feel like I have to hide or lie about who I am.”

She frowned and let out a sympathetic sigh. Her fingers fluttered to the red satin tie around my neck, working at the knot.

“Look, Vázquez. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I like who you are. You’re smart, driven, and ~so~ funny…”

My tie fell loose, and its fabric slid from my collar. She tossed it on the bed beside us.

“And I’m sorry if I made you feel like anything less,” she said. “I, of all people, know how that feels.”

I sighed, something in me loosening with the apology. Evie began unbuttoning the tiny buttons on my shirt, and I couldn’t help but let my hands roam around her backside.

The dress’s hem barely concealed the curve of her ass, and her skin was as smooth as silk as I palmed each of her full cheeks.

“But as long as I like you, what difference does it make?” she added, gazing at me with glassy eyes and fierce lips.

I couldn’t tell if she meant she liked me romantically or in a business partner sort of way. “I like you too,” I breathed, letting it stay ambiguous.

She smiled, finishing with the last button and opening my shirt to scan my chest. “And besides, I think you won my mom over with your lie about how you thought I was the ‘most beautiful woman in the world.’”

Perhaps I shouldn’t have let my next whisper slip, but I couldn’t help it. “That wasn’t a lie…”

Her grin vanished like I’d caught her by surprise. Honest to God, I didn’t know why. How could she not see it every time she looked in the damn mirror?

Rising to her toes, she planted an unexpected, delicate kiss square on my lips. I was confused as fuck now, but I kissed back tenderly.

I continued squeezing at her ass, shocked to discover that she didn’t even have a measly thong on for me to play with. No panties at all. Learning her pussy was so close, yet so far, was killing me.

She pulled back, fidgeting with my belt buckle.

“What are you doing?” I asked under my breath.

When my belt fell loose, Evie dropped to her knees, yanking my slacks and boxers down with her. My cock sprang free, and without warning, she wrapped her hand around its base, fixating on the crystal bead that was developing at the tip with every slow and steady stroke.

“Evie…” I huffed, still in shock. “You don’t have to—”

Her tongue swirled the head, and she licked up that clear drop of pre-cum before closing her lips around the rim, firing an endless tingle up my spine and drawing a moan from my core. If she was aiming to shut me up, that did the trick.

“Fuck,” I heaved, cupping her face in my hands.

As she took in a couple more inches, her tongue focused on the most sensitive spot on the underside of my shaft. It felt as if she already knew my dick like the back of her hand.

I groaned, thoroughly teased and now a hundred percent invested. My fingers traveled into her hair to seize those perfect, reddish-brown locks I treasured so much. I was so grateful I’d agreed to come to dinner, grateful I’d stayed.

Her free hand slid up along my abs while her previously occupied one clutched my bare thigh. Meanwhile, her mouth slowed to a near halt, waiting for me to take charge.

Maintaining my hold on her curls, I gave a few quick thrusts, cherishing the look of my erection gliding in and out of her puckered red lips at my pace.

Her nails mauled my leg and stomach, but that only enhanced the sultry warmth that was enveloping my arousal with every deep dive.

After a couple of minutes, I figured I had to be all the way back in Evie’s throat, but she wasn’t tapping out or telling me to stop. I kept my rhythm, cock swelling harder, and heat rose in my balls as I neared a glorious orgasm.

So many times since I’d met Evie, I’d envisioned this moment—fantasized about cumming in her pretty little mouth right before I laid her out on my desk and fucked her. We weren’t at work, but still, that fantasy was coming true in a big way.

Mind you, I’d never imagined the Santa outfit before.

Evie suddenly pulled back, and I surrendered her hair, groaning. I nearly came, but apparently I’d missed my chance. I glanced at her, out of breath and desperate for her to finish me.

She smirked as if she relished my misery, swiping at her bottom lip with her thumb as she rose from the tan carpet.

I was so close, but something told me she knew that. Maybe that was precisely why she’d stopped.

Shifting her hands into my shirt and grasping my waist, she pushed herself up against my erection, which was still aching in torment.

“Do you wanna cum, Vázquez?” she asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” I huffed.

“Tell me how bad.”

“More than anything,” I moaned.

She smirked as if I was right where she wanted me. “Then get your ass on that bed.”