Page 16 of All I Wank for Christmas

“Yes.”

“You want me to act as some kind of dog lookout now?”

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“This is the last thing you get to ask for here, Jasper. You can’t just throw all of this at someone, ask them to figure out an archaic stocking system, and then ask them to work as a dog lookout. Clear?”

“Understood. I completely agree. In fact, I think you get an ask sometime tonight.”

“Like a favor to call in?” She blushes, and my dick throbs in my pants.

Oh, please let her ask for a favor where my dick gets to do stuff. Please. If we weren’t under such a time crunch, I’d bend her over and eat her from the back right on this roof. My hands flex like I want to hold her hand or touch her in some way. I’m like a kid in middle school that can’t keep from getting an erection from a pat on the shoulder from the cute girl I like.

And why wouldn’t I like her? She must be brilliant to figure out my dad’s stock system. She’s brave enough to get on the sleigh. She draws boundaries when she has to put her foot down. I tilt my head to the side, smiling. “Do you know what favor you want to call in, Holly?”

She clears her throat. “I’m forming an idea. We’ll see how the night progresses.”

The air crackles between us, and I shove my hands into my pockets before I touch her inappropriately. The tension, the way her eyes darken, and her blush give her away. My dick is totally going to get to do stuff.

I nod. “Right. Let’s get to work.”

“Do I just slide down after you?” she asks, nodding toward the chimney. “What if I fall?”

“You won’t fall. I go first, and I’ll catch you. Besides, the suit slows me down so I don’t get hurt, and I can slow your fall.”

She doesn’t answer me. She doesn’t tell me it’s fine or flat-out refuse. She gets out of the sleigh and walks over to the chimney, knocking on the brick like it’s a door or like she’s checking if it’s sturdy. I grab Madison Luther’s present and stomp through the snow to the chimney, straighten my suit, and move down the chimney like I’ve been taught.

I come out at the bottom into a dark room. Weird. Most people usually leave the Christmas lights on or something. A lamp. Low kitchen track lighting. A nightlight. It’s pitch black in here, and I turn and wave Holly down the chimney. She cringes before swinging her legs over the chimney. She slides fast and doesn’t shriek on her way down. Another point for her. Pride builds in my chest for her. This woman is amazing.

“Where do you want me to stand?” she asks, blinking as her eyes adjust to the darkness.

“Over by the living room entrance. They have a dog. Tell me if you see it.”

She grips my arm. Normally, I’d love that, but something about her grip is panicked. Her nails rake my skin and not in the way I’d want them scraping up my back during a good fuck. Something’s wrong.

“I think it’s too late, Jasper.”

My eyes adjust, and there’s a sliver of moonlight coming through the curtains. It’s just enough light to see the large Doberman standing in the entryway. Even if we didn’t see him, the low growl is enough for me to know that we’ve already been spotted.

Panicking, I throw Madison’s gift to the Christmas tree in the corner, not even caring if the item inside is fragile. It lands with a clunking sound, but I don’t give it a second thought. Fear moves up my spine. I grew up with reindeer, moose, and fox. I like most dogs, even after my great-grandfather’s unfortunate mauling, but when they growl at me when I’m intruding in their home, they scare me.

“Don’t be scared,” Holly whispers, releasing her grip on me and taking deep breaths. “They can smell fear.”

“I have fear. I stink with it,” I say as the growl gets louder. “I stink. I stink.”

“Shhh,” she hisses just as lights flick on, blinding us.

The dog lets out a low bark, stares at us, and points like a hunting dog. A bare-chested man in his underwear blinks around the room and I grab Holly, pulling her to my chest. If my arms are around her, the man will see us but not care or mentally register it.

And I do not want to tangle with this man. He wears a gold chain around his thick neck, and he’s built like a brick shithouse. I’m well-built and lift, but this man scares me. He looks like the leader of a motorcycle club or a strip club bouncer. He looks around the room while stroking his long gray beard that practically touches the gold chain over his chest.

“What is it, boy?” the man asks, looking around the room as Holly and I stand frozen and wide-eyed. “What are you barking and growling at? Another rat in here? Fuck it all, I cannot handle another rat.”

The dog slinks off the couch and stalks across the room slowly, growling the entire way. I pull Holly back with me as I walk toward the chimney. The man across the room looks right at us, seeing us but not reallyseeingus.

Holly doesn’t panic. She doesn’t cry. Granted, her job is giving men hand jobs. She probably gets her fair share of angry customers or customers that want more. She may even know this guy. Maybe that’s why she isn’t scared of him. Even if she doesn’t know him, fear is something she probably deals with on a daily basis. She’s not a coddled boy from rural Canada who never has to worry about being attacked by a man wearing tightie whities.

The man’s right hand was behind his back when he entered the room, but he swings it forward as his eyes dart side to side. He searches the room and slowly tiptoes toward us, following his dog. He holds a taser gun in his hand, and Holly pushes against my chest as we back toward the chimney. She trembles in my arms, but I’m much worse.

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