Thrill Seeker (Sinful in Seattle)

I steepled my fingers together. “What would you say if I said I have a Santa suit in the building?”

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; “Would it fit me?”

I raised one brow. “Who would be your helper elf?”

“Mel. I’m sure I…” She swallowed. “I can make it work.”

“The suit is cut to fit me.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“That is not a story we’re going to get into. Suffice it to say, I don’t wear the suit for anyone.”

Her eyebrows snapped down. “Not even for those kids downstairs?”

“Not my problem.”

She stood up straight. “That’s unconscionable.”

“I don’t do Christmas, Miss Kane. Not even when you give me that look.”

“What do you mean you ‘don’t do Christmas’?”

I stood up and circled the desk to stand in front of her. “Call me Scrooge. I’m okay with it.”

“But there’s innocent children who believe in Santa. They believe that someone is out there to—”

“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?”

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