A Very Merry Alpha Christmas

by Chance, Logan

  “But listen here, there’s also the part where you make it, and then you lose it. So believe me, this is the best part right here. The moment right before the magic happens.”

  I sniffle a little, keeping my eyes locked with his. “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me, what’s the best part of Christmas? The night before and the morning after, right? What’s the worst? The whole year of waiting in between, right?”

  “Yes.” I nod.

  “A dream is like that, too. Right now, is the night before. You have all this built up excitement, not knowing what’s under the wrapping paper, and tomorrow after it’s revealed…well, what comes next?”

  “The clean up.” I laugh.

  He nods, his mouth smiles at me and his face lights up so warm it leaves me feeling toasty all over.

  “And more work to make it happen all over again next year, only on a bigger scale, because there will be more people to please. Well, what if not everyone is so good at that part? What if Santa relies on his elves because he sucks at making toys and has no ideas of his own?”

  My eyes widen as my fingers tremble at his words. “Are you suggesting...” I can’t even finish my thought.

  Everest shakes his head as if to silently tell me to be quiet. “I’m only asking questions. I’d never make an accusation about a person without proof. Good, solid proof.”

  “Everest...“ I’m left speechless.

  He caresses my chin. “You need to know your worth, Ginger Darling. Don’t be someone’s hard working little elf taking cookie crumbs when you can be Santa and get to eat the entire cookie.”

  I nod. “He also gets to sleep the whole year. Lucky bastard.”

  Everest smiles and nods his handsome head. “Just be careful who you trust. Not everyone is your friend. Remember, salt looks exactly like sugar until you taste it.”

  “And you?” I boldly ask. “What about you, Everest Snow? Are you salt or are you sugar?”

  He leans in closer, drawing my chin toward his. “Well, you’ve tasted me. What do you think? Sweet or savory?”

  “Hm,” I hum, “I might need another sample. You know, just to be sure.”

  He smiles right before he kisses me, and I don’t even remember our kiss in the elevator. This kiss replaces every kiss that has ever been kissed in the history of kisses. This kiss is searing and binding. It’s a kiss that Romeo would kill himself all over again just to feel a second of, if it were Juliet on the receiving end. I’ve never felt anything so powerful in all my life. Forget the storm outside, it has nothing on the magic and fury that is happening in my fifty square-foot studio.

  Everest frames my face in his hands, deepening our kiss and the air sizzles with heat.

  “Ginger.” He attacks my mouth with the tongue of a painter who knows exactly how to artfully run his brush along a blank canvas.

  “More,” I cry out, not even coming close to getting as much of him as I desire. I’m soaked through. It’s more than just wanting him inside me for good sex. I want to feel him take me. I want to feel what it’s like to have that kind of unbridled connection with someone, that shit that makes my soul’s inner compass point right fucking at him.

  He brings it to life as he swoops me up in his arms and we totally crash the set around us. Lights falls. Makeup breaks. Brushes scatter. Everest rests me on my beauty counter and we tear at each others’ clothes in a cyclone of lust, need, and urgency. I rip his belt from his pants as we stay locked in a kissing frenzy.

  “I want you so fucking bad,” he whispers against my lips. “You’re all I ever think about. Fuck, Ginger.”

  “Everest...” I cling to him, pulling his mouth harder against mine as he grinds between my legs.

  Seven

  Everest

  One Month Earlier

  It started as a night of simple things. A new client on the books. A steak dinner. And my cock staring back at me from my laptop screen. Ok, hold up, that doesn’t sound right...but follow along, anyhow, please.

  I realize the last item on that list wasn’t simple, or so I’ve been told. You see, I usually like the fact that women are plentiful. Living a playboy lifestyle, where I can dabble in the beauty world and get a little sample of this and that, has always been exciting. But, after the reigns were handed to me five years ago, after my father passed down his empire to me, I changed how I thought about things. I no longer had shit handed to me, and I actually had to understand and deal with the responsibilities that accompany being a king. Well, a king that hides from the limelight.

  Now...sometimes when you’re a king, your throne is going to be tested, and even an attempt to overthrow it is possible. Hence, my dick staring back at me. Yes, I’m talking about a dick pic, people. Please try to keep up.

  Somewhere between sliding bites of succulent prime rib into my mouth and going over a new client’s product line, I was staring at my dick in my direct messages.

  After I hit the thumbs up button, I debate whether or not I should reply. And the longer I stare at it, the more I want to die. Impressive or not, and of course it’s a fucking rockstar, I’m responsible for stopping scandals, not starting them, let alone being the star of one.

  Fuck it. I start typing.

  :How much do you want?

  No response.

  :Are you familiar with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?

  No response.

  :This isn’t exactly the worst thing you could post about me. It actually might up revenue. Imagine that on a poster in Times Square. “Beauty Babe. We’ve got your best interest in the palm of our hand.” Genius, right?

  No response.

  There’s only one thing that could drive a person to do something like this if they don’t want humiliation or money. Revenge. Ugh. That’s a long line. Who wouldn’t want to hurt me? Other companies. Ex clients I’ve dumped for multiple offenses and not following the golden rules aka my expert advice. Ex-lovers. Huge line. But one that definitely makes sense.

  You have to understand one thing about me though—the truth trumps everything in my world. I’m threatened on a daily basis with all kinds of shit. It’s part of what I do, and I have to accept this duty and everything that comes along with it. I don’t handle being backed into a corner very well. I’m a bit like a pissed off wet cat when it happens. My claws come out and I’m not negotiating with your ass. I’m just looking to draw blood. But first, I have to find out who you are.

  So, I put on my hat. I fix my fucking tie. I push my food to the side and I bait my hook. And in order to do that, I also take a deep breath, and then I type out my most honest response.

  :How badly did I hurt you?

  Eight

  Everest

  Present Day

  Lines have been crossed. For a lot of fucking reasons, this is not good. Number one, I’m now part of the lines being intertwined. Number two, I now care about someone getting hurt. The only way to save the day, unfortunately, is to also ruin it. I have to take one for the team, so to speak. That is basically the only thing these days that separates me from the rest of the herd that is looking to use the people around them as rungs of a ladder and step on their faces to climb to the top.

  It’s going to hurt. But at least it’s not going to hurt her.

  Nine

  Ginger

  I have a new pep in my step. My colors are picked and perfect. I have my Christmas shopping done. I feel like I’m just floating on air as I wait for the elevator. I’m not even scared of it today. I couldn’t care less about riding eight floors up to my office today.

  Everest Snow rocked my world. I can’t even think of him without giggling like a schoolgirl. Holy Kris Kringle. How did this happen? I swear I am not this girl, but man, I love it.

  Even though the elevator is once again taking forever to make an appearance, it’s ok. I’m going to set my worth today. It’s almost the end of the year, and I’m going to go out with a bang at the top of my own world. And my worth says I bring a hell of a lot t
o the table, and if I’m a few minutes late with Meredith’s breakfast croissant and matcha tea, that’s ok, because my worth extends beyond these silly little errands. And today she needs to know it.

  Santa wants good toys? Then Santa better take his own advice and be a little bit nicer and a lot less naughty. I refuse to be the nice girl who finishes last. And that goes for Everest too. I’m not going to serve him up on a silver platter to someone who probably couldn’t care less about having him in her life. I’m done being the supplier of goods and getting shit on in return. Yes, Ma’am. This is a brand new Ginger Darling and I’m not going to take anyone’s crap any longer.

  I jab the button again on the elevator to show it who’s boss. Me, baby. That’s who.

  “I already pressed it,” a deep voice says from behind me.

  I spin around this time, unlike last time when I was too angry to meet my not-so-helpful hero, because this time I want to see this beautiful man. “I know.”

  I’m met by an incredible set of emerald green eyes. I almost can’t turn away from them. They match his green sweater hiding a perfectly sculpted body underneath, the one that was all over me, inside of me last night. My body feels electric as I gaze at him, so tall and handsome, and charming.

  I play along.

  “So why did you press it again?” He smiles and it nearly knocks me off my feet with his straight white teeth shining from behind his full bottom lip. “Are you a model or something? They’re not known for having much in the smarts department, no offense.”

  He laughs. “No, I’m not.” He pulls his black trench-style coat a bit closer, shuffling on his feet for a moment.

  “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I’m sure you get that all the time from girls, don’t you?”

  “Hm...girls? No. But I do appreciate a beautiful woman thinking I’m something special. So, thank you. Um, your name again?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I grin and spin back around, feeling pretty damn proud of myself.

  I turn back to face the elevator doors, waiting for the lift to arrive. I jab the button for good measure one more time.

  “The button is lit. Pressing it won’t make it go any faster.”

  I huff a little, fixing the strap of my purse on my shoulder. “I know.” I do a little eye roll, but it’s ok, though. I’m not facing him, so he can’t see me.

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

  This man is hot...and possibly a wizard. “No,” I lie.

  “Yes, you did. I saw it in the reflection of the glass up there.”

  I glance up, seeing our reflections in the glass above the door. I roll my eyes again.

  “You just did it again,” he says with a soft chuckle. I love the sound of it. I want to laugh too, but I have to keep my poker face on.

  I spin around to face him, rolling my eyes again. They seriously have a mind of their own. They can’t seem to stop rolling around in my head. “I didn’t mean to, but I really don’t like being told what to do.” I stand a little taller to match his height.

  He steps closer, getting extremely close to my face and reaches out a hand to touch the button again. “There. Maybe that’ll help.”

  I press it once more. “It was fine when I did it all by myself.”

  The elevator arrives, the doors whoosh open and Everest rushes me inside as if our pants are on fire.

  He steps even closer, leaning in until his lips are teasing me to take a step and claim them. “I think the button likes it better when I do it.” He ups the ante and double clicks the button for floor eight.

  I go weak in the knees.

  It’s hot. So hot. White Christmas outside and red hot Christmas all up inside this elevator. Let me tell you. I cannot get my clothes off fast enough, but I try to keep playing along.

  His eyes glance up. “Well would you look at that. Some really naughty person hung a mistletoe inside of the elevator.”

  My eyes follow his to see what he’s staring at, and that’s when I see it. My eyes immediately fall to his lips. It’s almost like I’m trapped in some sort of spell, and he inches closer.

  He inches closer.

  Oh my God. This is so going down. Possibly literally.

  Whoever thought of the idea of kissing under a mistletoe, is a genius. I could kiss that person. And this hot as hell man trapped in here with me, of course.

  My mind is no longer on Meredith and her breakfast sandwich and demands. Nope. They are gone. Because this is Ginger’s moment to have everything in life she deserves. Hot man. Hot job. Hot boobs. What? Oh shit. Like, literally hot boobs. Everest smooshes Meredith’s dumbass matcha tea between us as he goes for my mouth, and I pour the blazing hot brew down my top.

  “I’m sorry. Oh, fuck.” He tries not to laugh but fails miserably at the absurdity of this.

  “It’s ok. I’m sure I can make blistered nipples a hot fashion trend.”

  “Oh, baby,” he says softly, and I melt at how he looks adoringly at me. “I’ll stall Meredith so you can change before the meeting. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m fine really.”

  He removes the cup and everything in my hands, setting it all on the floor and then presses the emergency stop button on the keypad. We come to an abrupt halt and he steadies me in his hands. His skin already feels hotter on my skin than the matcha tea.

  When his lips meet mine, all the brain cells in my head have shrunk or exploded, either one, making all rational thoughts leave my body. Because I’m about to keep kissing this guy, and I won’t let anything stop me from doing so. Not even burnt boobs or wrathful bosses.

  He cups my cheek with his featherlight touch, and I sigh. And then the next thing I know, his lips are on mine. I’m floating away. His mouth is pure magic and his hold on me tightens just a tad, and I grip onto his shoulders not wanting to let go. How did I get here?

  When I woke up this morning, late I might add, I never could have imagined the events of today transpiring to this moment. To this heady moment where I’m trapped in an elevator with this non-model, but looks like a model, kissing him underneath a mistletoe. Thank heavens for Christmas. It’s my new favorite holiday.

  My mind stops wandering and focuses on the way his mouth moves over mine, his tongue begging my lips to open. I do. I do it for him. Everest deepens the kiss, and I let him. I let him all the way into my heart.

  He moves me up against the wall, the kiss turns more urgent as his hands explore my body.

  Before we can move this along any further, the elevator springs back to life and we break the kiss.

  “What the hell?” Everest says, dropping his hands to his sides as he takes a step back. “I didn’t mean..” his words fall away but I smile.

  The elevator finally reaches the eighth floor, and the doors open with a high-pitched ding.

  “Are you guys ok?” a man in a grey button-down shirt asks.

  “We’re fine.” Everest steps over the threshold. “It all worked out in the end. Just a little accident with some tea.” He nods and pats the guy hard on the back.

  I want to die, but crack a smile instead. My face must be so smug and painted even pinker than my cheeks, right now. And I don’t even care.

  “Um...” Everest turns to me for a moment. “I’ll see you inside.”

  “Ok.” I’m a little confused. But he turns and walks straight inside the office where Guru Girl operates. The door closes. And then I remember my shirt.

  I rush to the closet where sometimes there’s lost and found items, or leftover things from photoshoots, and find a simple white t-shirt still wrapped in plastic looking brand spanking new and haul ass to the bathroom to toss it on. It’s not nearly warm or upscale enough for Guru Girl, but it’s better than tea spilled over my shirt. Ha.

  I make sure to take a selfie of my stained shirt and text it to Bianca, joking about how she finally got her wish and I “spilled some piping hot tea.” She replies back in an instant with a fire flame and laughing-tears emoji. I laugh too,
before I shove my phone in my bag, and then brace for the storm that is Meredith, especially now that I’m both late and drinkless. But, I do still have breakfast. Oh, shit. No. I left it in the elevator.

  Breathe.

  I suck in a big gulp of expensive beauty guru air, then straighten my spine, and prance my little confident self into the office, unlike any time before. And to my surprise, Everest and Meredith stand close to my desk, laughing away like they’re the best of friends. Or lovers. But what’s the real “tea” is that she has her hands on his chest and they look almost as if they were having a moment. He touches her arm in a soft caress as he sees me, keeping that sexy smile on his face that I have grown to adore.

  I have to be honest, I feel stung. Like someone just told me Santa isn’t real. But I don’t let it show. I just smile back and walk straight toward them.

  “Good morning,” I say, brightly.

  “Glad you could join us,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Where’s my matcha?”

  And I expect Everest to speak up with a good cover story, since he was the one who spilled it on my shirt, but he just waits for an answer right along with her. So much for being sugar.

  “I had a run in with a really big jerk in the elevator.”

  “Hm,” she replies. “Seems to be a running theme with you lately. Perhaps you should take the stairs. It could do you a great service in more ways than one.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  She doesn’t expect my boldness, and quite frankly, I’ve even surprised myself with my outburst.

  “It means,” she leers at me, “you get paid to perform tasks for me in a swift and perfect manner, and when you don’t, it throws off my whole damn day, Jennifer.”