Page 29 of Santa's Wish
CHAPTER 9
BOZ
I was kissing Santa,and not beneath the mistletoe or however that song went. I put my every intent behind the kiss. Santa couldn't read my mind, but that didn't stop me from trying to convey how much I wanted him.
He pulled back and planted a final chaste kiss against my lips. "How did you get so good at kissing?"
"I'm good at it?"
"Mm-hmm." He grinned.
"How would you know? You said you don't kiss on the lips."
"I don't kiss for work. Doesn't mean I've never done it." He kissed me again, a harder press of his lips against mine. "I'm trying to give you a compliment. Take it, will you?"
"I'm really bad at accepting compliments." I was good at saying the quiet parts out loud, though.
"No shit. I learned that about you the night we met. Doesn't change what I want to do with you."
"Yeah?" I shivered as goosebumps broke out across my skin beneath my thin sweater, and not from the cold.
"This isn't about me, though," he said. "It's about you. How do you want tonight to go?"
"Well, you delivered on the amazing date last week." I'd thought of how easily Santa and I moved across the dance floor every day and night since, sometimes when I was supposed to be paying attention at work or watching one of my favorite streaming shows. "This week, I want the mind-blowing sex as promised."
He laughed. "You remembered that?"
"How could I forget?" I'd been disappointed too many times by hookups that didn't happen, but something in Santa's tone and confident delivery said he wouldn't be one of those guys. He planned to make good on his promise tonight, and I was here for it.
"What do you want to try first?"
"Sixty-nine?" I asked.
He shook his head. "You don't just start with sixty-nine."
"Why not?"
He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me again, more gently this time. "Let's start with the basicsfirst. Make sure you enjoy having your dick sucked before you're sucking mine at the same time."
"Who doesn't enjoy having their dick sucked?" I couldn't imagine anyone turning down something I'd wanted since I'd first read about blowjobs in my mom's "forbidden" romance novels.
He laughed. "You'd be surprised. Fang phobia is real. Mine might get in the way while I'm sucking you, and some people freak the fuck out."
I hadn't really thought about his unique anatomy. "If I promise not to freak out?—"
"Step one. Blow job." Santa kissed me again. I didn't feel him move, but the next time I opened my eyes, he was straddling my lap and lifting the hem of my thin sweater. He ran his hands over my ribs and sensitive nipples. Fuck. Every touch was a live wire to my cock.
"Don't you want to move somewhere more comfortable?" I asked.
"Define comfortable," he said. "Are you uncomfortable sitting here?"
"No, but?—"
"Relax, sweetness. We have plenty of time to move to the bedroom. Right now, all you have to do is sit back and enjoy the show."
He'd probably said those exact words to his VIP customers a million times, but I didn't care, not when he tweaked my nipples at the same time and slid to his knees before me. He pressed against my knees and Iopened for him, spreading my legs wide to give him room to lean against the couch.
I met his hungry gaze and blood rushed to my cock. He looked like he would devour me, but he stroked my sides to calm me instead.
