Holiday Spirit for Hire

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Holiday Spirit for Hire Page 12

by Isabelle Saint-Michael


  With a nod I picked my bag back up, and swung it over my shoulder. I grabbed my coat and gloves and marched out of the kitchen, across the walkway and to the door of our room. I tried to push it open and discovered it was locked. Cursing at him under my breath, I closed my eyes and focused on his room while touching the bead. The air shifted and grew warm.

  I opened my eyes to the soft glow of the fire. The lights we hung still twinkled overhead. He hadn’t taken anything down. “Why did you follow me?”

  “Because you said you didn’t have a chance to tell me anything, but I’m not going to let you run away like I did before I can say what I need to. I’m sorry I left and hurt you, but you went from being all passion to cold as ice overnight. Then suddenly a gorgeous Halfling shows up, claiming to be your fiancé, and you don’t correct her. At the time I thought was getting out of your way. You didn’t try to stop me from leaving either,” I pointed out.

  “I thought you wanted to leave and I wasn’t going to make you stay against your will. It would be selfish of me to ask you to stay,” he argued.

  “Oh, like it would be selfish to stay and be in love with someone who has a fiancé?” I countered. “Let’s be totally honest though. You’ve believed that I would run away from the beginning because that’s what everyone does. Why would I be different? If you help push me out the door then it would be easier than watching me leave later? Right?”

  Justin winced painfully at my words. “I came back because even if you didn’t care about me, I wanted you to know I love you. I don’t want to live the rest of my life asking if things would have been different.” I leaned back against the hearth. “I came home just to tell you I wasn’t leaving.”

  He got up out of the chair and wandered to the door. He fiddled with the locks for a moment then slid another one in place.

  I stared at the row of locks on the door that were all new. “How many locks do you have?”

  “One more than my mom has keys. Every time she figures out how to get in, I add another. I expect to need a new door by New Year’s.” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

  Pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and running his hands through his hair, he looked like a war was raging inside of him. Justin came to stand in front of me.

  “You called this home.” His eyes were hard and unreadable.

  “They say home is where the heart is,” I whispered.

  “Then I’m glad mine is back where it belongs.” He slid his arm around my waist, then tugged my head back with my ponytail. Before I could ask what he meant, he captured my mouth with his. It was a demanding and possessive kiss, the kind you expect when a lover comes home from war. One that says, you’re back and I’m never letting you leave again. I melted against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and refusing to let go. When finally we broke the kiss gasping for air, he swept me up into his arms and carried me to the bed. We all but fell into the pile of blankets. It was a wild torrent of arms, legs and lips as we did our best to strip each other out of our clothes.

  Justin sat on the bed, resting his hands on my hips. His gaze seemed to caress every curve of me. When he tugged me forward, he hugged me close, pressing his ear to my chest, listening to my heartbeat. With slow, deliberate moves he began kissing a path down my breast until he reached its already hardened tip, which he sucked greedily into his mouth. My head fell back and I moaned.

  He held me close with one arm while he playfully caressed my inner thigh with his fingertips. He urged me to open my legs wider for him. Carefully he stroked the soft lips of my sex. Teasing it until I ached with need. He slid his fingers within me, causing my knees to buckle. He steadied me on my legs, but slid his between my knees, forcing me to open wider and expose myself more to his touch. Justin held me in place, unable to sit or kneel as he continued to stroke me.

  I begged him to let me feel him inside me but he continued to caress me intimately until I couldn’t take it any longer. An overwhelming release rushed through me, causing me to scream and rub myself against the hand that still continued to massage me. My knees buckled again and I threw my arms around his neck to keep from toppling over onto him. His caress made me feel like my entire womanhood was on fire and burning hotter and hotter. Another wave of pleasure ripped through me as I rode his hand between my legs.

  This time when my legs turned to jelly beneath me he tugged me forward so that I would straddle his hips. He guided me effortlessly down onto his shaft where I moaned at the pure pleasure of him being deep inside me. He took a shaky breath. “You feel … if there is a heaven when I die and it doesn’t feel half as good as this, I’m coming back to wander the Earth with you.” My laugh was cut short when he flexed his hips and pressed deeper into me.

  Using my hips as a guide he urged me to move in slow thrusts that took him deeper into me. Each one caused him to take a shuddering breath. He steadily tried to build speed, but I was enjoying him slowly losing his composure. In a total act of defiance he cupped my derriere, stood up without withdrawing, turned to face the bed and then buried himself hard and deep into me as he lowered us back onto the mattress. I started to protest but he leaned down, biting my lip playfully, and drove himself quickly into me again. He kept the intensity hard and deep, but hands on my hips he drove me to a frenzy with his speed. The only word I could remember was his name, which I kept gasping until my entire body spasmed around him. Tiny fireworks exploded behind my eyes, matching the pulses running through my body. He cried out his own release as one last thrust buried him so deep it felt like he reached my heart.

  There, as we lay combined as one, panting for air, he leaned his head against mine. “I love you Grace MacGregor. You’re never allowed to leave without me again because I don’t think I can live without my heart.”

  I smiled and snuggled close to him as he dragged the covers over our shaking bodies. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of making love to you.”

  “That’s good, because I plan on doing it for several more centuries.” He chuckled before falling asleep.

  I pondered his words carefully. Obviously I was forgiven, but did he really mean what he said about several more centuries? The thought of not having him with me made me hope that his words weren’t empty phrases made in vain during an erotic moment of bedsport.

  “I want that too,” I whispered as I ran my hand along his cheek. He kissed my fingertips and mumbled some lovely words. When I finally fell asleep I dreamed of the type of life we would have together.

  I decided the next morning that I liked the locks on the door. It made it almost impossible for someone to barge in. I unpacked the few belongings I had brought, showered, and rode into the office with Justin. After all, as a full-time employee, there was paperwork to fill out.

  When I stepped back into the office all the Spirits stopped and stared at me. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t officially start as manager of Holiday Spirit and Good Will until the New Year. I just have two or three cases I want to take care of.” I sank into the chair at my desk and flipped the computer on.

  I sifted through Facebook until I found Frank Martin. For nearly ten years Frank had been trying to find his birth mother who had given him up forty years ago because she was a single mother who had lost her husband in a fatal accident. I sent him a message with a link to the cranky old cat lady. I made it a point not to tell him that’s how I thought of her.

  To finish up the case, I contacted the company in New York. They had offered me a job as an executive assistant last week. I thanked them for the consideration, but let them know I had found something that was the perfect fit and walking distance from home. I also played with a little magic snow and convinced them I had the perfect candidate for the job. I hung up the phone and signed off that both cases were done.

  “I’m going out,” I said, tugging the white wool duster on and pulling the hood up. The office stared at me as I twinkled off to do my good deed. When the world settled back to normal around me I climbed the stairs of t
he old Victorian house and rang the doorbell. As expected, the Cat Lady’s assistant answered the door.

  She looked at me all clothed in white and raised a brow. “Hello, can I help you?” she asked.

  “Hi there Rosa, you don’t know me but I’m your very own Holiday Spirit, sent by the North Pole.” I dug around in my pocket and pulled out the stack of papers which had been my employment contract for the New York job. I handed her that and my ticket voucher. “Santa has seen what a good girl you’ve been this year. He says you should go be closer to your family and be with them through the Holidays and beyond. Here is a ticket and a job waiting for you there,” I smiled.

  She stepped outside onto the steps and looked around. “Where are the cameras?”

  I blinked. “What cameras?”

  “The ones where you jump out and tell me this is a joke.” She leaned further out to look down the street.

  “All totally legit. You can call the number on the contract and voucher to make arrangements and see that it is all taken care of.” I nodded at her. She looked at the paper in her hands.

  “What about Ms. Dally? She can’t be left alone.” I smiled at her as she looked at me skeptically, waiting for the catch.

  “I’ve taken care of everything. I swear.”

  Without warning she launched herself at me in a hug. “Thank you. I can’t explain it, but I believe you. Everything’s going to be alright.”

  I shrugged. “It’s what I do. Merry Christmas, Rosa.” I turned and walked away, letting a swirl of snow take me home.

  When I got back Justin was sitting on the edge of my desk in the office. I looked around and everyone was gone. “Was I gone that long?”

  “No, I just sent everyone home early. I figured you closing two cases without even being on the clock was as good as any reason. Everyone is done with their cases anyway.” I stepped forward into his open arms.

  “Actually, I closed three today.” I kissed him on his cheek.

  “The crazy cat lady and assistant are technically one case. Then there was the guy looking for his mom. What other cases?” I reached behind him and pulled out a file that had a coffee ring on it.

  “Ten years ago a very sweet but stubborn man had his heart broken tragically on Christmas Eve. The Holiday Spirits have been trying to heal it since then, but none have succeeded.” I smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, pulling his ponytail free of its tie so I could play with his hair. It tumbled and twirled wildly around my fingers.

  He pulled free of my grasp to open the file. I did my best to distract him. I even went for his ears. Elves, Dwarves and Fae all have such sensitive ears. He gasped and melted at my touch just a little but won the war pulling free. “I can’t believe they had a file on me.” I snagged it out of his hands. “Hey, I was looking at that.”

  “Are you satisfied with the service you received?” I teased.

  “Yes ma'am, I will make sure to write your manager a letter and let him know about the excellent service I received.” He kissed me again.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with today?” A grin pulled at my lips.

  “Actually, yes.” He let go of me long enough to pull a small red box from his pocket and open it. Within was it was a ring in the shape of a snowflake. He sank to one knee in front of me and looked up with a mixture of fear and hope. “Marry me and make every day of my life a holiday worth celebrating.”

  “That was really corny,” I said pinning him with my gaze. “I happen to like corny. I’ll add that to the list of things I love about you.”

  He slid the ring on my finger, staring at it there for a moment. When he stood it was to claim my mouth in a kiss that promised many years and a lifetime of happiness.

  “Does this mean you’ll be my date for New Year’s?” I asked.

  “Yes, and just wait until you see New Year’s North Pole style.”

  I shook my head and grinned. “No, wait till you see it with an entire house filled with Scottish and American Werewolves.”

  His eyes narrowed on me. He considered me for a moment then finally nodded. “Sorry, I had to consider if I loved you enough to risk being mauled as your new fiancé.”

  “And?”

  “I would risk Werewolves for you. I would even leave the Pole for you. I can’t imagine loving anyone more than I love you.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Isabelle Saint-Michael is a cupcake enthusiast, shoe addict, and world traveler. She is known for her sense of adventure and geekier hobbies. She is frequently seen haunting coffee shops and pubs in the wee hours of the morning. No matter where she goes, shenanigans and laughter are never far behind.

 

 

 


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