Page 21 of His Candy Cane (Sweet Treats 1)

But then, to everyone’s shock, my dad gets up and states in a flat tone, “I oppose this business.”

Mayor Jones is flustered.

“I’m sorry, Henry, but there’s a time for questions, and that time isn’t now. If you’d save your comments for the fifteen minutes at the end –”

But my dad won’t have it.

“No. This man doesn’t deserve a business license. In fact, he deserves to have his current license taken away, and to be run out of this town because he’s violated my sweet daughter, Maisie.”

A gasp arises as shocked townspeople swivel around to look at me. I gasp, my face draining of all color. What’s going on? My parents have never “liked” Patrick, that’s true, but they never mentioned hating him either. Nonetheless, my dad continues in a flat, dead monotone.

“My wife, Lorraine, and I purchased personal training sessions for our one and only daughter, Maisie. We thought it would be a good way to help her lose weight and feel great. Unfortunately, this man took advantage of her. He seduced her during a training session and violated her multiple times after that.”

Okay, this is getting crazy. Maybe the words my dad are saying have a little bit of truth in them, but “violating” is going way beyond the pale. I stand up, about to defend my boyfriend, but my mom jumps in then. Lorraine’s face is pale, strained, and to my horror, tears brim in her eyes.

“I second my husband. This man has engaged my daughter in amoral behavior that’s absolutely transgressive,” she says, her voice breaking. “And we have proof. I beg you to listen before considering any action on Patrick Walker’s behalf.”

What the hell? What’s going on? Have my parents gone insane? But at that moment, the screen at the front of the school auditorium flickers to life, and to my horror, my face appears on the flat surface. But it’s not just any candid shot of me. My expression is delirious with ecstasy and it’s clear that I’m moaning with pleasure as my lashes flutter and lips part. Then, a man’s hand extends onto the screen and begins touching me. You can’t see his face, but there’s the edge of a broad, bronzed shoulder and a shock of dark hair, with a low voice rasping, “Come for me baby. Come for Daddy, sweetheart.”

Holy shit! It’s video from the time when Patrick and I made love in Santa’s sleigh while viewing the holiday lights. Fake white snow falls around us, but it’s not enough to obliterate the naughty, X-rated action. Then, to my horror, more of our bodies come into view, and you can see Patrick pounding away at me as I mewl and pant, my expression one of pure need. The only thing blocking our privates from the viewer’s eyes is Rudolph’s nose. Evidently, there was a hidden camera somewhere on the roof, but the fake Rudolph was in the way and a big red bulb sits in the middle of the screen, preventing the City Council from seeing my private parts.

Oh my god! How is this happening? I jump up, trembling like crazy, and begin to scream.

13

Patrick

Where the fuck did Maisie’s parents get this video? Suddenly, I have a sinking sensation that Lorraine and Henry have known about everything from the very beginning. They probably know that I took advantage of their daughter during her very first personal training session; that we’ve been enjoying each other’s bodies non-stop since then; and obviously, the fact that I claimed their daughter’s anal cherry during a holiday spectacular because it’s right here on camera.

But where the fuck did they get this video? Within seconds, Lorraine Handle answers my question. With tears in her eyes, she speaks loud enough for the entire auditorium to hear.

“Our friends, the Valencias, live on Tremont Street, which puts on a holiday light show each year. Many of you have likely seen it. It’s a wonderful experience, and this year, the Valencias did their house up with Santa and his sleigh on the roof. Of course, they installed cameras all over their property because the decorations are expensive and quite elaborate. Imagine my shock and horror when Trudy Valencia called me and informed me that there was tape of my daughter having sex on the roof of their home by the very man I hired as her personal trainer!”

I gape. The video has thankfully come to a pause, although you can still see Maisie’s mouth open in an ecstatic scream as I grip her hips from behind. Fortunately, Rudolph’s red nose blocks exactly where our bodies meet, so at least you can’t tell that I’m giving it to her in her backdoor. At least, I hope not.

But Lorraine continues.

“We trusted him!” she cries in an agitated voice. “How could you, Mr. P? We entrusted our precious, darling daughter to you and then … this happens!”

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