Page 57 of The Grumpiest Elf

Chuckling, he wraps his arm around me and kisses my head. “I don’t think we need to worry about that any time soon.”

Nodding, I turn and hug him. “Yeah. True. But this would be enough to put me off for sure.”

He holds me, just like I knew he would, staying right where I need him until I pull in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He rubs my back. “You good?” he asks softly.

I nod against his chest before stepping back. “Let’s get everything turned off and put away, then we can get out of here.”

Still trailing his fingers down my arm, he grins at that. “Sounds perfect.”

“You guys are so cute,” Mrs. Claus says, and I turn to see her watching us from next to Santa’s throne, her hands clasped under her chin.

Dylan waves a hand at her, and Santa lets out a laugh—his real one, not the Santa-famous, “Ho! Ho! Ho!” he gives the kids—and they both turn to leave with a wave and a, “See you in a bit.” Even with this demonstrable evidence that they’re Dylan’s parents, I can’t think of them as Jake and Mara Daniels when they’re still in costume like that. They’re Santa and Mrs. Claus.

Funnily enough, even in his elf outfit Dylan is still Dylan. His parents almost turn into different people when they’re dressed up. They fully embody their roles, which is part of the difficulty of thinking of them as different people while still in costume, even if it’s after-hours.

Dylan’s just himself, no matter what he’s wearing, despite the fact that his mom gave him an elf name when he was just a baby.

I wonder if I’m actually different dressed as an elf versus in my normal clothes and maybe that’s why Dylan assumed I was just acting? Or if he’s just so used to all the people around him acting differently in costume that he thought I’d be doing it too?

That makes a certain amount of sense, now that I think about it. His reactions when we first met weren’t about me at all, but about his entire life up until then.

And while he’s apologized and I’ve forgiven him, it helps to let it go all the way when I place it in that context.

Dylan places his hand on my back to get my attention. “You ready?”

At my nod, he threads his fingers through mine and leads me to the locker room. I’m suddenly feeling a little shy, but Dylan doesn’t seem to have any such qualms. He goes to his locker, pulls out his change of clothes, and immediately starts stripping.

Letting out a choked laugh, I cover my eyes with one hand, though I can still see him through the gaps between my fingers, and he turns to look at me. “What?” he asks. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” His gaze darkens as his eyes rake over my body. “And nothing you won’t see again.”

My lips curve in a satisfied smile at the promise in his tone, though my cheeks are still hot and pink. “I know. It’s still …” I make a helpless gesture with one hand, unsure what I want to say.

“New?” he supplies, dropping his pants and stepping into the jeans he brought with him.

I’m a little disappointed at how quickly he’s changing, even if I was shocked at first. Crossing the room, I stop him with a hand on his bare chest before he can finish buttoning his jeans. Skating my palm over his skin, I let it land on his shoulder. His eyes darken, and he bends to capture my lips with his.

It’s a deep kiss, neither of us holding back. His parents are already gone, the rest of the vendors closing up and drifting out if they haven’t left already, and we’re the only people who use this locker room. We’re the only ones who need to change into costumes, after all.

His hand goes to my thigh, lifting my leg so it’s hitched over his hip, dragging his jeans down a little in the process, and he turns me so I’m pressed against the wall of lockers next to his open one. The metal is cold against my back through my elf dress.

The longer we kiss, the more passionate it becomes, and then he’s hitching up my other leg, picking me up and pinning me against the lockers, grinding his hard cock into the hot space between my legs, and I let out a soft cry of pleasure and desperation. That seems to spur him on, and he slides a hand under my skirt, cursing when he’s once again stymied by my clothes—this time the high waisted tights I wear under the dress.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard, and then he slowly lets me down so my feet touch the floor again.

With a slow, deep breath that has his chest expanding under my hand, he takes a half step back, giving me room to get out from between him and the lockers even though that’s the last thing I want right now. “What am I going to do with you?” he murmurs, and I’m not sure if he’s actually asking me or if it’s a rhetorical question, so I just lift one shoulder in a shrug.

Chuckling, he steps back all the way, breaking contact, and I miss his touch already. “We shouldn’t do this here,” he says quietly. “Even though it’s unlikely we’ll get caught, it just seems like a bad idea.”

Reluctantly, I nod. “You’re probably right.”

He drags on a shirt, stuffing his costume in his bag. “I’m gonna head out before you change.” His eyes flash with heat when he looks at me. “Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll be able to stick to that plan.”

Before I can respond with more than a soft gasp at the spike of arousal caused by his words, he strides out of the room, leaving me to change on my own.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

Dylan

I pacethe aisles of ChristmasFest as I wait for Lydia, too full of restless energy to be able to be still while she changes. Especially since all I want to do is barge back in there when I know she’s undressed, pin her up against the wall again, and take her.

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