A Very Merry Alpha Christmas

by Chance, Logan

  I nod, tempted to just skip the surprise and impale myself on his thick cock.

  “Don’t peek,” I tell him as he strides across the spacious room into the bathroom.

  Once he’s inside and closed the door, I spring into action. Graham told me once, he found my elf uniform incredibly sexy. Obviously, I catalogue all these things in the Graham Rolodex in my mind, so I brought it with me. And now I’m about to become a very naughty elf on a shelf.

  Graham takes exactly fifteen minutes to shower, so I grab paper from my bag and scribble off some notes to help him locate me.

  Follow the clues to find your naughty elf on a shelf...Here’s a hint, you light a fire in me.

  If you found this, woohoo! The next clue can be found beneath a tiny version of the giant tree where we first met. You better get this one! Kiss. Kiss.

  Your naughty elf is behind a door where clothes you won’t be needing are located.

  The first goes on his pillow, because he’ll go to the bed immediately, the second on the mantle of the fireplace, and the final in the Nativity scene on the bookshelf. Ok, that’s just wrong. Forgive me, Jesus. I snatch up the clue and place it beneath the miniature tree on the dresser and then snag the strand of lights off of it.

  Five minutes later, I’m dressed in a red felt dress, elf hat, and thigh high candy cane striped socks. Since I won’t fit on an actual shelf, I’m perched on the square cabinetry/island thingy in the walk-in closet. I cross my legs and wait for Graham. Hopefully, he doesn’t find this creepy. I’ve never liked the idea of the Elf On A Shelf. It’s his grin. He looks like a serial killer who will come alive and smother you to death while you sleep. But, sacrifices.

  Which, how can this even be considered a sacrifice, when Graham enters wearing nothing but a Santa hat on top of his still wet hair? It’s another gift.

  “I’ve been a very naughty elf, Santa,” I drawl out. “You may need to tie me up.” I hold up the string of lights.

  “Damn, you are such a bad girl but no, I want you free to touch my cock.” He strokes his dick and walks closer, a confection of abs and rippling muscles. He’s so delicious, I want to devour him whole, but also not, because then I wouldn’t have anymore.

  “I love these.” He trails a finger up my socks. Explores the exposed skin of my thigh. Then discovers I’m not wearing panties. He groans.

  When all is said and done, Graham is a simple man. Six dollar Target socks turn him on just as much as expensive lingerie, and I love that I can still be me.

  He leans in and nips my bottom lip with his teeth before he hoists me up from my seat on the cabinet. Forehead to forehead, he walks us to the oversized leather chair in the corner of the room. I wish I could capture his scent for a soap. I’d call it...well, I don’t know what I’d call it. Man-a-licious seems too ordinary. Maybe I’d just give it a symbol like an exclamation point. That’s how he makes me feel.

  He sits, and I straddle his lap. “Tell me what you want,” he rasps.

  “Well…” I reach between us and fondle his balls. His hooded eyes mesmerize me. “I want a dark eyed man who doesn’t like Christmas, but loves to give.” I ease down on his dick and moan as his thickness stretches me. His fingers grip my hips. “I want a man who fucks like a god, but is so mortal he feels everything.” I rock against him. “You. I want you.”

  “Fuck, Zoe.” His hips buck and heat spreads throughout my limbs. Sometimes I worry this insane sexual chemistry we have will destroy us both. He cups my face in his warm hands and seizes my lips. Our tongues mate with each other as he thrusts into me. I wonder if this longing for him will ever fade. This need to make him as happy as he makes me. I hope it doesn’t.

  He pulls back. “Do you love me, Zoe?”

  His earnest question stabs my heart and confuses me all at once. We’ve said the words so many times. “More than Christmas,” I whisper.

  He pumps his hips in a frenzy and then I shatter, like a million snowflakes drifting and swirling.

  “Yeah, baby, keep coming.” He pumps faster, sliding me up and down, until he groans and his own release sends me spiraling again.

  My heart drums against my chest and our pants fill the room. “Wow. You really jingled my bell.” I remove my hat and toss it.

  He chuckles just as a knock sounds at the door. I spring from his lap and bolt into the bathroom. Don’t really want anyone wondering why I’m dressed as an elf. After a few minutes, Graham peeks his head in to let me know his family is back and his dad needs help bringing in firewood.

  While he’s gone, I shower, and once I’m tucked in bed, my phone buzzes. I retrieve it from the nightstand and read the text message from Nick, my future baby goat’s owner.

  “I’ve got some other people interested in Jack.” I gasp. “Just want to give you the first opportunity. Can you come by tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes,” I reply instantly. “I’ll be there by ten am.”

  Well, this is throwing a wrench in my plans. Tomorrow, I’ve been invited for tree cutting with Graham and his dad. To say I was excited is an understatement. I slump in the bed. I’ve never been on a tree finding expedition. But, baby goat trumps everything. It’s a small sacrifice. Now, I just have to figure out a way to sneak off with York without Graham knowing.

  * * *

  I’ve never seen anything as cute as Jack in my life. He’s white, and soft as a marshmallow, with a chocolate smudge between his doe eyes. But now I have to take the mom too. Cause I can’t take a baby from its mother. Even if Nick assures me it’s ok. Baby momma studies me like she knows what I’m up to, and I just can’t.

  “I want Star too,” I tell Nick. “They’ll have a great home at the Mountain Goat Resort. Thanks to York,” and his connections, “a barn and fence have already been installed.”

  York slides his hands in his coat pockets and grins. If it wasn’t for his hockey star status, I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off. I’m very grateful for all of his help. But if I can’t have Star too, it’s a deal breaker.

  Nick drapes his arms on the wooden fence. “I can come up and help them get acclimated.”

  I clap my hands, full of glee. “Yes. I’d appreciate that.”

  “Tomorrow I’m free. Sorry, that’s the only day I can do it.”

  “That’s fine.” We return to the lodge tonight and there’s no way I can hide the barn until Christmas, anyway. “Thank you so much. They’re going to be so happy.”

  We work out the details, and I sign the papers. Graham is going to be a father.

  Chapter 4

  Graham

  My baby will be cuter than baby Yoda. My feet trudge forward through the snow, but my mind is back at the house where Zoe is sleeping. This morning, after I gave her the custom made pajamas with four birds talking on the phone, and she cried over how ‘adorable’ they were, she said she felt a little nauseous and needed to skip the tree cutting. I offered to stay, hold her hair back, but she shooed me away.

  While I have a mini panic attack over a baby shooting out of Zoe’s tight as fuck vagina, my father scopes out the abundant evergreens and inspects their branches, like his life depends on it. “What do you think about this one?”

  I walk next to him and touch the stiff needles. “I think Zoe is pregnant.”

  His head turns in slow motion to me. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “Like I’m going to fail as a father.”

  For the first time in my life, I realize this is something I might not succeed at. Sure, I’ve got more money than I can ever spend, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be good at parenting. There’s psychological shit that goes into it. I sit on a fallen log and look up at the clear blue sky. It’s the color of Zoe’s eyes.

  “Well,” Dad says, “you probably will at times.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  Dad laughs. “It’s all trial and error.” He rubs a hand against his red cheek. “I’m happy for you.”

  I stand and give him a wan smile. “Let�
��s get this tree. Zoe and I have to head to the resort early.”

  Thirty minutes later, we’re on our way back with a fat evergreen loaded on the sled. When we enter the foyer, Zoe stands by the stairs, radiant and beautiful.

  “Oh, it smells so good,” she says.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  “Much better.”

  She stands on her tiptoes to give me a kiss and then heads toward the living room. Dad and I drag the tree in while mom gives directions as if we don’t do this every year. We set the tree in the stand and Zoe helps my mother string the lights.

  “Looks good,” York says.

  I turn and meet his brown eyes. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  He follows me into the kitchen.

  I lean against the counter and cross my arms. “You’d tell me if you knew something?”

  He tilts his head. “About what?”

  For some reason, Zoe has decided to confide in York. Unless it was an immaculate conception, that’s my child in her, so shouldn’t I be the first to know?

  “Zoe.”

  He rubs a finger against his lower lip, then clasps his hand on my shoulder. “I can tell you this, your peaceful existence is about to be no more. Double trouble is coming your way.”

  Fucking hell. I’ve got super sperm. Twins. I can’t parent one, much less two.

  “Hey,” Zoe says from the entrance, “we need your help.”

  In a daze, I follow her to the tree and with numb hands hang ornaments until the tree is barely visible beneath the array of glass baubles. The rest of the day is a blur as we pack our things, say our goodbyes, and drive to the resort.

  “Are you ok?” Zoe asks as we settle in our cabin.

  “Yeah, I‘m just beat. I have an early call in the morning.”

  Worry floods her blue eyes and she places a cool hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever, so that’s good.”

  She mother hens me and once we’re in bed, I pull her close. She falls asleep immediately, but I lie awake, running through all the ways I’m going to fail at being a father, until my lids become heavy.

  And then I dream.

  A dark figure enters the room garbed in a long black gown. For a moment, I think it’s Darth Vader. He’s breathing that heavy.

  Because I’m cool, and don’t dream like an ordinary man, we don’t walk down the hallway—we fly. Right through the damn walls, over a canopy of trees, to a two-story log house adorned with Christmas lights and smoke puffing from its chimney.

  “Why are we here?” I ask faceless dude.

  “You’ll see.”

  I stand next to him in the snow. Two children, in coats so puffy their arms barely bend, waddle across the snow. Giggles float through the air and claim my heart. Zoe chases after them.

  “Wait. This is my future?”

  “Obviously,” he drawls.

  “Well, you skipped over past and present,” I point out.

  “Well, sometimes you need to just fly to the end.”

  Ok, this isn’t so bad. I’m not freaking out. Palms aren’t sweating. No reindeer hooves battering my chest. Until York zips across the snow and lifts up a squealing tike. Zoe rips a snowball at him. He laughs and they proceed to have a jolly good time. Twin One in his arms giggles as he runs from Zoe and Twin Two.

  “Am I in the house?” What the fuck?

  “No. Europe.”

  I stalk across the snow to take my child but my arms go right through her. Her. The hazel eyed, chubby cheeked cherub is a her. Dark curls peek from beneath her knit hat. She lays her adorably adorable head on York’s shoulder. That should be my shoulder.

  Twin Two waddles past me and dumps a pile of snow on York’s boots. Good boy. A boy. Twin Two is a boy. Because he’s bundled like an Eskimo, he tips over. York squats to help my little man up but they topple to the ground. Squeals abound. Squeals sweeter than a chorus of angels. And I’m in fucking Europe. Zoe whips out her phone and takes a picture.

  I move closer and watch as she texts it to me. “No, don’t text it,” I say to her. “Call me and tell me I’m missing out.”

  Her fingers pause. She glances over at me and I think for a moment she heard me, but her blue eyes look through me until frost covers my soul. She shakes her head and hits send. I watch in horror as she tells the kids it’s s’mores time and York is going to build a real fire. And then—as if s’mores wasn’t bad enough—they’re going to watch Rudolph.

  “Ok, first,” I tell cloaked figure, “York can’t toast a marshmallow without burning it to a crisp. Second, this is my family, I should be watching movies with them.”

  He shrugs his ghostly shoulders. “Well, you’re in Europe.”

  “Well, you’re annoying,” I mutter.

  “I wanna watch da Gwinch,” Twin Two announces with mittened hands on his hips.

  “We can watch that too, little man,” York appeases him.

  Twin Two’s precious pout transforms into a grin as he lurches against York and gives him a leg hug. My legs ache for a hug.

  “Thank you for coming,” Zoe tells him.

  “Of course,” he says. “I wouldn’t miss Christmas Eve.”

  No way. I look over at ghostman. “Christmas fucking Eve?” He nods. “Let’s go. I don’t want to see anymore.”

  “Go where?” Zoe says.

  I open my eyes to morning sunlight streaming into the cabin and Zoe’s blues staring back at me. “Just a dream.”

  “You’re going to be late for your call,” she says, snuggling against me.

  “I’m taking the day off.”

  Her eyes widen. “Really?” She throws the covers back and hops out of bed. “Well, this is unexpected.”

  “I thought we could do something fun.”

  You’d think I just said Christmas is cancelled. She tugs her t-shirt down over her panties and worries her plump bottom lip. “Isn’t the call important?”

  “No.” I pick up my phone from the nightstand and postpone everything for today. “I’m free.”

  And I do feel free. We dress and as I pocket my wallet, Zoe types on her phone before saying, “Santa has arrived.”

  “Yeah?” With twins in his sleigh? I swallow back the urge to ask her to tell me already. There's a lot of shopping and preparation and freaking the fuck out to be done.

  We step out into the cold air. “I have a surprise for you.” Zoe grins and takes my hand. She places it against her chest. “Feel my heart beating? I’m so nervous.”

  Same. This is it. She’s going to tell me today. But I got this shit. I’ll be brave for both of us. Or hell, I’ll hire someone to be brave for us.

  Chapter 5

  Zoe

  “So what names would you pick for kids?” Graham asks.

  My steps falter for a moment. “Um, I haven’t thought about it.”

  “I don’t like fancy names. Just good solid names,” he adds.

  “Me too,” I say. Are we having the talk? Honestly, I’ve fantasized about a family with Graham, but I don’t want to jinx it.

  My nerve endings buzz with anticipation as we walk hand-in-hand to the main lodge. Nick is already here, and I’m sweating buckets beneath my coat. What if Graham hates the idea? I sneak a peek at him as we near the building. He looks very rugged today in his flannel shirt, jeans, and black coat. He looks masculine. Like a man who needs a goat, I reassure myself.

  Before he can enter the lodge, I tug his hand and redirect him with a head nod. “This way.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I have something to tell you. Well, show you.”

  I lead him around the building, down the side, toward the back.

  Before we make the final turn that will reveal his surprise, he stops and moves in front of me to clasp my face in his hands. “Listen, I’m going to be there for everything.” His serious eyes plead with mine to believe him. And I do, even if I don’t know what he’s talking about. “I’m going to have
snowball fights, and light fires, and watch Rudolph. I’m going to enjoy the hell out of being in a gingerbread house. I will not be in Europe.”

  “Ok,” I say as a bleating goat prevents me from asking what in the heck he means.

  He drops his hands. “Was that a goat?”

  I grin and take his hand again. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.” Nick waves as we round the corner. “Meet Star and baby Jack.”

  I’ve never seen Graham stunned, until now. His footsteps slow. He volleys his eyes between me and the goats. “You got me a baby goat?”

  “Yes,” I exclaim. “He’s so sweet and I got his mom too. York helped me.”

  “You’re not pregnant?”

  My head draws back. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

  He scrubs a hand on his jaw. “Well...I saw you show York a baby sweater. And then you said you were sick and York said double trouble was coming my way.” He blows out a breath. “A baby goat?”

  I nod. “The sweater was for Jack. There are no human babies.”

  “Yet,” he adds to my statement. “But there will be. ‘Cause I want them with you,” he says, causing an explosion in my ovaries. He grins. “Let’s go meet Star and Jack.”

  Give a man a goat and he’ll give you a ring. Five. With Nick, Star, and baby Jack looking on, Graham opens a red velvet box containing the engagement ring from a year ago and four slim rose gold bands twined together. “I need a real fiancée this time. I love you, baby. So damn much. And I want every Christmas for the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Zoe?”

  “Does Santa have reindeer?” I step into him and wrap my arm around his waist. “That’s a yes, in case you don’t know Christmas speak.”

  And then he kisses me. Heady and deep. A kiss full of promises of Christmas magic to come.

  THE END

  NORTH

  North Caspian, a very successful alpha boss and his lively employee, Holly Winterbourne, will heat up your holiday and kindles. North owns a store for the celebrity babies of Hollywood. When Holly accepts a job there, she is immediately intrigued by her Scrooge of a boss. THIS BOOK IS FUN. (No celebrities were harmed in the making of this book)