by Alina Jacobs
But it wasn't as calming as she probably thought it would be; I was antsy. I needed Holly. Instead, I opted for a walk. Rudolph needed to go out.
I picked him up from the doggie daycare. I’d given them a temporary spot in the tower until their permanent space was constructed. Already the new amenity was a huge hit with my employees. There were several dogs playing in the room that had been allocated for the service.
One of the workers handed me Rudolph's leash. The puppy was hanging from it by his teeth, three of his four paws off the ground.
“We really did try to tire him out,” the woman said. “We took them all to the park and ran around. This dog was never cold or tired. You must have your hands full!”
“He had bacon for breakfast this morning,” I explained, dragging Rudolph away. “You better not get expelled from daycare,” I warned him in the elevator. The puppy was oblivious and hopped around as soon as we were outside in the cold.
Figuring he was tired of the nearby park, I took him to another park several blocks away. He jumped in piles of dead leaves and snapped at the snowflakes that had started to fall. After a good hour of running around, I took him back to the tower.
Up ahead, I saw Holly, huffing as she pushed an empty metal cart. I snuck up on her then grabbed her, spinning her around and kissing her. She screamed and beat me around the head with her purse.
A young woman walking a miniature horse wearing tennis shoes, a custom blinking sweater, and a hat festooned with poinsettias and sprigs of garland passed us and gave us a suspicious look.
“It's fine, I know her,” I assured the horse girl.
“Very well,” Holly added.
“Weirdos,” the girl muttered.
Holly and I barely held it together until she had passed out of earshot. Then we started laughing.
“Why are you even out here?” Holly asked.
“Rudolph needed to burn off some energy,” I said. The puppy was chewing on the leash, tired of standing still.
“Switch?”
She took Rudolph, and I pushed the cart.
“Honestly, you make it look so easy,” she said, squeezing my arm.
“You could have told me you needed these taken to the post office,” I told her.
“They needed tracking, and I didn't have enough time to order the pickup,” she explained. “Because I was distracted.” She shoved me playfully.
“Am I distracting?”
“Very.”
“I'll make a note to be less distracting.”
“But that’s how I like you,” she replied, licking her lips suggestively.
43
Holly
Though all I wanted to do was let Owen distract me for the rest of the afternoon, we had to finish decorating the lobby for the holiday party.
“Where is the tree?” Penny fretted while Morticia rearranged furniture. “We need the big tree. I was planning on uploading a tree-trimming video.”
Jazzy, poppy Christmas carols played over the sound system. Several of Owen's employees had come down, waiting to gawk at the giant tree that was supposed to be delivered. An impromptu party broke out, with a big bowl of Christmas punch and a tray of baked snacks that I had whipped up. I poured myself some punch.
“Man,” I wheezed, “someone spiked this.”
I sipped and contemplated my life. The situation with Owen was making me slightly anxious. Was it going to be a fuck and dump? What was his deal? The only time I'd interacted with billionaires like him was when I had been catering charity events. Then all I’d asked was, “Care to try a lobster popper?”
Now I was supposed to navigate a complicated—I didn't even know what we had. Was it a relationship? Casual fuck buddies? But we hadn't really actually had sex. Was this some sort of weird self-deprivation thing he was doing? Maybe he was secretly crazy.
A truck blared its horn outside, jerking me out of my spiral of doubt and paranoia.
“Are we going to have a big tree like this upstairs?” one of Owen's workers asked me.
“Not this big,” I told them. “We wouldn't be able to bring it up there.”
I wasn't even sure we were going to get this tree inside the building.
“Can we remove this glass?” the tree delivery guy asked me, pointing to the front doors.
“Uh, let's not,” I said.
Owen came down, Beck and Walker trailing him.
“Half of my employees are missing,” Owen said with a frown. “But it appears they're all here.” People had their cell phones out, recording.
“The tree won't fit through the opening—it's too big,” I told him. “Should have used lube, I guess, or given it a bit of a warm-up.”
Owen bit his lip slightly and bent down to whisper in my ear. “We could have tested how big it was earlier.” He straightened up. “Maybe take it back out and bring it in through the loading area?”
“Sure thing, chief.”
The workers tried to take the tree back out. There was a cracking sound, and all the onlookers oohed.
“Let's not do that!” Penny practically yelled.
The workers tried pushing the tree the other way. It was stuck.
“Call the fire department,” I suggested.
“We cannot call the fire department. It would be all over the news,” Owen said, horrified.
“Too late for that,” Morticia said, gesturing to the onlookers. Zane and his camera panned around us.
Owen took off his suit jacket and undid his cuff links, handing them to me.
“We'll just brute force it in. The pointy end of the tree is already facing the right way, so with some finagling, it has to come in.”
Walker and Beck looked at each other, shrugged, and removed their jackets.
“Holly, hold the doors back,” Owen ordered. He grabbed the tree and pulled, muscles bulging.
“It's like everything I ever wanted all in one package,” I said happily to Morticia.
“I would have expected you to want him in a Santa hat,” she said. “And nothing else.”
“Might be a little dangerous with all the branches,” I said, getting whapped in the face with one as the tree lurched forward.
“Walker and Beck, grab it around the trunk and pull,” Owen told his CFO and COO.
With the three strong men pulling, the tree lurched another few feet.
“Pull!” Owen commanded. A few more heaves and the tree was inside!
Everyone applauded.
“It's like a movie!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in celebration.
“There's tree sap in your hair,” Morticia said.
“Crap!” I pulled a tissue out of my pocket and blotted the spot.
“Oooh,” Morticia said, making a face. “Bad idea. Now you have a tissue stuck to your head. Gonna have to cut it out.”
“No,” I moaned, picking at the tissue.
“I still think you're sexy, even with Kleenex and tree jizz in your hair,” Owen whispered in my ear. He kissed my neck softly and took his cuff links from me.
I was feeling warm and tingly watching him roll down his sleeves. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me drooling.
“What? You guys all know that women go Christmas crackers for a nice forearm.”
“You make it sound so dirty,” he said.
“It's very dirty.”
While the tree was being tilted upright, two of Owen's employees came down with a big box.
“Let's see what you made.”
“We cut snowflakes out of old computer parts,” one of the guys said, showing me. “And we have old motherboards we laser cut with the Quantum Cyber logo.”
“See, Owen?” I said. “You can't tell me you don't want these types of Christmas ornaments.”
He inspected one. “These are pretty cool.”
It took the rest of the afternoon to trim the tree. While that was in progress, Owen brought me some WD-40 to remove the pine sap from my hair.
“Don't look at me,” I said
to Zane as Owen dumped the chemical in my hair and carefully wiped the sap out.
“All gone,” he said after a moment.
“Now I smell like chemicals,” I complained. “I need a shower.”
“I could help you wash that off,” he said, his voice low in my ear.
44
Owen
Holly blushed slightly at the comment.
“I should probably not,” she demurred.
My phone rang. It was Mace Svensson. “Come see me tonight,” I told her before I answered.
She went even redder, and her eyes were dilated and little glassy.
I went upstairs to my office to take the conference call with Mace and Garrett about the gene therapy facility. I was only half paying attention, though. The rest of my attention was on planning a perfect evening for Holly. It had to be flawless and romantic.
After the call was done, I ordered food from a nearby Italian restaurant. Then I went back to my condo to set up. The most important part of a plan was executing the details properly. I had a list of small touches that would elevate the evening into a memorable one.
Fire in the fireplace. Check. Intimate table for two. Check. Food delivered right on schedule. Check.
Then I turned on—shudder—Christmas carols. Holly would appreciate the touch, though.
As I changed clothes, I texted her a picture of me in a Santa hat and nothing else.
Owen: Dinner and yuletide entertainment?
Holly: You are literally my dream man. I'm going to eat Christmas cookies off of you, so be prepared!
And a perfect woman. Check.
I set the table and lit the Christmas candles and patted myself on the back for having had the foresight to order them. I checked my suit in the mirror. Perfect. Holly was going to be here any minute. The doorbell rang. Right on schedule.
I opened the door. There was Holly in what looked like a Rockette's outfit that consisted of a super-short red-velvet-and-fur–trimmed coat. She had a party horn in her mouth and blew it at me when I opened the door.
“I brought peppermint schnapps and eggnog-flavored vodka. It's disgusting!” she said cheerfully. Her enthusiasm flagged a little bit as she looked me up and down.
“I guess I seriously misread the Christmas-themed nude photo you sent me, because this is not the evening I pictured.”
“I have a nice evening planned,” I said, leading her inside the condo.
She whistled. “Yeah, a seriously nice evening.”
I pulled the chair out for her.
“I am not dressed right,” she said, opening the bottle of peppermint schnapps and taking a swig. The candles flickered. “Seriously misread it,” she muttered.
“There's antipasti,” I informed her.
She took another swig of the peppermint schnapps. “Where’s the Santa hat you were wearing earlier?”
“I thought you might want to be wined and dined first,” I said. I took the schnapps away and poured her a glass of wine.
“I mean, I came here to get fucked. I have all the tree sap out of my hair, and I even took a shower. I’m raring to go.”
“And here I planned this nice dinner date,” I said, leaning back in my chair.
Her eyes narrowed. “I feel like you're teasing me. All the dirty, flirty comments. Now you're Mr. Three-Course Dinner and Two Hundred-Dollar Bottle of Wine.”
“It was a thousand,” I corrected.
“Yeah, I'm seriously underdressed,” she said under her breath.
“Do you want to take off your coat?” I asked.
“I'm not wearing much under this,” she said.
“What are you wearing under it?” I asked, sipping the wine.
“I'm all wrapped up like a present.”
That got my dick's attention. Wrapped up how? it wanted to know.
“Buuuut,” she drawled, smirking at my expression. “Now that you mention it, maybe I do want a five-star evening. Wine me. Dine me,” she said, swirling the goblet. “Give me the true Owen Frost treatment.”
She speared one of the olives on the plate and slowly stuck it in her mouth, her lips making a little O shape.
“Yum! I love the feeling of balls in my mouth.”
My pants were uncomfortably tight.
“But the bigger question is,” Holly continued, “is sausage the next course?”
I set my wineglass down and stood up. “You know, I was trying not to treat you like a sex object but rather like a woman with thoughts and feelings.”
“Yeah, and I appreciate that, except all my thoughts and feelings revolve around sex and Christmas, which is why I really needed you to answer the door in nothing but a Santa hat,” she countered. “Maybe Santa’s utility belt too.”
“I don't have a utility belt.”
“Next time,” she told me. “Now about that dinner. I'm starving for some meat.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You can't just say you're wrapped like a present underneath that—I hesitate to call it a coat since it barely covers anything—and then just want to sit here eating dinner.”
“But you planned it so nicely,” she said, taking a sip of the wine. “I don't want to steal your thunder.”
“Steal it.”
“Santa baby,” she sang as she slowly removed the red coat. “I want you coming in my chimney tonight!”
The coat dropped and revealed Holly literally wrapped as a present. It was like a one-piece bathing suit with eighty percent of it missing. The single ribbon between her legs hid not much at all. It made a red line up to her tits, wrapped around her back, and made a bow in the front.
I swallowed, my cock aching.
“Do you know why Santa's so jolly?” she cooed. “It's because he knows where all the naughty girls live!”
45
Holly
I loved costumes, especially Christmas costumes. I wondered if I had gone a little overboard on this one, though.
“You look like you're going to combust,” I said. “Fire and ice don't mix, Mr. Frost. Could be dangerous.”
“I assure you I will not spontaneously combust,” he said, undoing his tie and hanging it, along with his jacket, carefully over the chair. Then he stepped up to me. His fingertips lightly caressed the bare skin that was not covered by the ribbon. It was supposed to be a fun, sexy outfit. As such, it did not cover much. I shivered as he ran his fingers lightly over me.
Two fingers hooked under the ribbon that went from my tits straight to my pussy. Owen pulled on the ribbon, and I gasped as it rubbed against my clit. He smiled slightly then pulled me to him by the ribbon. I fell into his arms, stumbling on my tall heels.
I moaned as he kissed me, his tongue tangling with mine, one hand gripping my ass as the other toyed with the ribbon, giving me delicious friction between my legs.
“I want your cock,” I said against his mouth. I reached for his pants and undid the buckle. I threw the belt to the floor and unzipped the fly with a rasp. I palmed his cock, and he grunted slightly. His fingers went down to tease my pussy as I rubbed his cock through the boxer briefs.
“Fuck me,” I moaned. I nipped his lower lip.
He growled then picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I ground against him, the motion making that ribbon that ran right along my pussy rub my clit as he walked up the stairs.
“I've been wanting this for days,” he said against my mouth.
“I've wanted it since I saw you in my room,” I panted.
“My room,” he growled, planting kisses along my collarbone. He pushed me back on the bed. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him back down to kiss him.
“I told you I want my Christmas present now.”
“So demanding,” he said, the smirk on his face letting me know he had every intention of drawing this out.
I grabbed his shirt collar and pulled. The buttons popped off his shirt and bounced around the room. Owen's chest was just as drool worthy as I remembered. I thought maybe I had exaggerated it in
my wet dreams and daytime fantasies, but nope. His chest was amazing. I could make out the outlines of every muscle, from the hard plates of his pecs down to his washboard abs, culminating in the V that pointed like a sign down to his Christmas package, the bulge clear through his pants.
“You’re a naughty girl,” he said, grabbing my wrists and pinning me back on the bed.
“Too bad you left your belt downstairs,” I said, panting as he carefully kissed my tits through the thin red fabric.
“I can punish you in other ways,” he said, “but sometimes pleasure is the best punishment.”
I cursed as he slowly ran his tongue down the ribbon, the red fabric painting a neon line to my pussy. I arched back as he licked me through the fabric. I spread my legs for him, and he pushed the strip of silk aside, licking a stripe along my folds. I whimpered as he worked my clit with his tongue. My chest heaved. Owen sucked on my clit as he used two fingers to tease my opening, dipping in then making snowflake patterns in the wet hot warmth of my pussy as he coaxed me over the edge with his tongue. I cried out, my nails digging into his broad shoulders as I came.
“You still didn't say Merry Christmas,” he said.
“I thought you hated Christmas,” I panted. The orgasm had slaked my lust only slightly. I felt that I could easily go another round.
“If I can have you wrapped up like this under my tree, I'll have Christmas every day,” he replied.
I sat up on my knees and struck my best fifties pinup girl pose, channeling my inner Bettie Page.
“You want to come give me a white Christmas all over my face?” I cooed, batting my eyes, licking a finger and trailing it down my tits and down the ribbon to my pussy. I was aching for his cock.
Owen stood at the foot of the bed.
“I've been a real naughty girl,” I said, slowly crawling across the bed to him.
Owen stripped off his pants and threw them to the floor.
“I want to see what's in your stocking,” I told him, pulling down the boxer briefs. His cock sprang out, huge and thick. Owen definitely needed a size XL stocking.
