by Ali Parker
Connor hovered over me, his skin skimming mine, naked in all his glory. "I've been waiting for this," he whispered, and I started to shiver. His expression was intense, a look in his eye that said he wanted to devour me.
And boy did I want to be devoured.
"Then come and get it," I said. A slow smile spread across his face and he bent to kiss me. I kissed him back, releasing all the passion that had been pent up inside me for ages. Wrapping my legs around his waist I pulled him closer, practically begging for him to possess me.
He thrust inside and suddenly I shot awake, almost slipping into the water in surprise. I clutched the sides of the tub, catching my breath.
Wow, that got out of control fast.
Climbing out of the tub with shaky limbs, I shook my head. Thinking about Connor was addictive, and it wasn't healthy. No matter how tempting he was, Connor Douglas wasn't for me. And I just had to keep reminding myself of that fact.
Maybe someday I'd believe it.
Chapter 5
Connor
I'd spent the day being productive, and for once the grocery store wasn't crowded, which was a rarity on the weekend. On the way back to my condo, I spotted a shop that I'd passed a hundred times before but had never paid attention to. The sign read Crave, and the mannequins in the window were outfitted in black leather and chains.
I smiled, then pulled around the block to try and find parking. Why not stop in? I need to find something interesting for this Singles Secret Santa thing anyway. Maybe something would pique my interest inside.
The interior was brightly lit and somewhat shiny, but the walls were black and lined with every manner of sexual mayhem. The clerk nodded at me as I walked in and I nodded back, praying I wasn't blushing.
I was by no means sexually inexperienced, but there was something about these types of places that always made me feel like I was a stupid high school kid stumbling on something inappropriate in my uncle's closet.
Ignoring the rack of porn, I explored the shelves, looking for something that was fun but didn't go too far. Like John had suggested, I avoided anything labeled 'vibrating' or 'realistic. ' That mean 'pulsating, ' 'lifelike, ' and 'thrusting' were also ruled out. Surprisingly, this narrowed things down significantly.
About to give up, I at last stumbled upon a section that looked promising. It contained no magazines, DVDs, or toys. There were various collars and cuffs of different sizes and materials. Lingerie of various types hung from hooks, designed to appeal to every fantasy: French maids, naughty professors, cheerleaders. Fishnet stockings, leather bustiers, and a pair of vinyl boots with heels so high and thin, I marveled that a woman could remain upright in them.
A pair of fuzzy handcuffs caught my eye. I picked them up, stroking the soft black fur and trying not to chuckle. The cuffs were a bit on the silly side, but they might be just what I was looking for. An over-the-top gift that no one would take seriously but would likely get some laughs from the other singles.
As I scanned the section, I lit upon a few other items that might fit the theme I'd decided on. Why not push the envelope? I grabbed a blindfold outfitted in the same black fur, then debated for a while over the feather selection. There were several types standing in a holder at the end of the aisle. Finally, I settled on a long peacock feather, thinking I'd get a more comedic bang for my buck.
I headed up to the counter, realizing the clerk that had been there when I came in had been replaced by a female counterpart. She rang up my purchases, then suggested I add a bottle of lube that was on sale that week.
"It's only four dollars more, and I've heard nothing but good things about it. Makes everything nice and slick."
"No thanks," I croaked, my face turning warm.
She shrugged, unconcerned, then bagged the items and handed them to me. "Have fun."
"I will," I said, automatically, then cursed myself for being a dumbass as I walked out the door. The peacock feather was sticking out of the top of the bag, and a couple walking past the shop turned to look as I exited. She giggled, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.
I shrugged my shoulders and grinned, then hurried my steps. Tossing the bag in the car, I wasted no time getting the hell out of Dodge.
Carrying the bag into my condo, I wondered how I would wrap the feather. I kicked myself for not thinking of that little problem sooner. Chin up, I told myself. Necessity is the mother of invention, and comedy can overcome almost any obstacle.
I tossed the bag on my counter with the groceries. After putting things away, I decided to take a run to get rid of my restless energy. Although I hadn't been looking for anything personal, shopping at Crave hadn't left me entirely untouched.
Five miles wasn't enough to exhaust me, but it felt good to get my muscles moving. Being stuck at a desk was the only failing of working in an investment firm. I made sure to hit the gym a few days a week, and to run whenever I had some free time and the inclination.
Back at home, I headed in for a shower. As the spray of hot water hit me, I continued to consider the gifts I'd selected for the Secret Santa exchange. As I'd been picking things, I'd only really thought about their possible comedic effect. I hadn't really given a thought to the person who might be receiving these gifts.
I knew exactly who I wanted the gifts to go to, although I thought the chances were pretty slim. At best they were about 1 in 17, give or take, if nearly all the singles in the office participated, and assuming the organizer broke them up into pairs of the opposite gender.
A less than six percent chance is long odds, I told myself. But not impossible.
That was the only opening my brain needed to let loose my imagination.
What if I draw Madlyn?
I thought of her opening the gifts. Although I'd picked the presents for laughs, when I thought about them in connection with Madlyn, what had been humorous became deadly serious.
Thank you, the Madlyn in my imagination said. I never expected something like this.
Her dark eyes were mischievous. I'm afraid I've haven't tried anything like this before. Maybe you can show me how to use these?
The thought made my cock hard enough to hammer nails. In the fantasy, I led her to my bed. Before settling her onto it, I pulled her close, kissing those luscious lips that I'd been thinking about for months. They were warm and so soft, and she opened them to allow my tongue entry.
When she moaned in my mouth, my cock throbbed, on the verge of aching. I broke the kiss, then sat on the edge of the bed. "Strip for me," I said, my tone taking on an edge that she responded to with a sly smile.
Madlyn slowly unbuttoned her blouse, her eyes locked on mine. Inch after inch of perfect skin was revealed, until she finally let the top slip off her arms and onto the floor. Her bra was white and lacy, a beautiful contrast to her golden skin.
She turned away, looking back over her shoulder as she pushed her skirt down and then stepped out of it, exposing matching white lacy panties that were little more than a scrap of fabric barely containing the most heavenly ass I'd ever seen.
Madlyn turned back to me, then walked forward, swinging the handcuffs around her index finger. She stopped in front of me, placed that finger under my chin, and raised my face to hers. "What now?"
I gave fantasy Madlyn a slow smile. "Now we have some fun."
I pulled her face down to mine and captured her lips again, savoring her sweet taste. Putting my hands on her hips, I guided her to straddle me, knees bent, her thighs on the outside of my legs.
Her ass nestled in my hands, I plunged my tongue into her mouth, wanting to explore every inch of her delectable body. Suddenly it wasn't about the toys. It was all about Madlyn and how badly I wanted her.
I realized then, as I stood under the hot spray, that I had started stroking myself as I fantasized. I released myself, shaking my head. Cranking the spigot all the way in the other direction, I gritted my teeth as the cold spray hit me.
I didn't want the fantasy of Madlyn, I wanted h
er in reality. It might take some time, but I'd find a way to win her over.
I wanted her too bad to give up now.
Not a chance in hell.
Chapter 6
Madlyn
Monday morning seemed to come earlier every week. I'd just dropped off Bennie, and as I sat in traffic, I realized I'd need something a little stronger than the cup of tea I'd tried to drink between bouts of chasing a six-year-old around the house, trying to get him ready. When I got off the freeway, I hit my favorite coffee shop.
Inside, I moved from foot to foot, glancing at the clock on the far wall. It hit nine o'clock while I was still two customers back. Shit. I was going to be late.
It wasn't until I was waiting for the barista to call my name that I remembered today was the monthly department meeting. Double shit. I rushed towards the office, anticipating having to do the late walk of shame into the conference room.
I kept my head down in embarrassment as I found an empty chair. When I lifted it at last, I caught Connor's glance. He gave me his signature slow smile and I suddenly felt a little better. Then embarrassment threatened a return when I remembered how often I'd been thinking about Connor over the weekend, and what exactly we'd been doing in those thoughts.
I managed to focus on the meeting, taking notes between sips of my double espresso. The meeting edged towards wrapping up when the topic moved to the upcoming office holiday party. Someone mentioned the annual gift exchange and Becca bounced out of her seat, stretching her arms wide.
"That's right, this year's exchange is a little different, and I hope you'll all join in on the fun! Some of you special people have the chance to participate in our Singles Secret Santa, and I promise you won't regret it."
John Edgemont raised his hand. "What about us special married people? What kind of fun do we get to have?"
Becca wagged her finger at him. "You've already had your fun, John, so let's give someone else a chance."
There were a few sniggers around the table. "That's right," Becca continued. "You married folks have the traditional Secret Santa exchange, but that doesn't mean you can't still be creative."
"As long as we keep it in our pants, so to speak?" John said, eliciting more enthusiastic laughter.
"Now, John," Becca said, leaning over and showing a little cleavage in the process. "You're about to talk your way onto the naughty list."
I rolled my eyes, but John laughed good-naturedly.
"All the rest of you are on the nice list, so let's remember to keep things fun but office-appropriate." Becca pulled out a set of three paper bags and set them up on the table. Taped to the front of each one was a piece of paper. One was labeled "Traditional Secret Santa" and had a picture of the typical jolly old resident of the North Pole.
On the other two was written "Singles Secret Santa." One had a picture of a quite different Santa, a buff and shirtless one who looked like milk and cookies were the last things on his mind. The other featured a Mrs. Claus who was plump in places the old Mrs. Claus wasn't.
"Okay, everybody, you know the drill." Becca passed around blank slips of paper as she gave her instructions. "Everybody write down your name and place it in the appropriate bag. I'll head around to the other departments to get their slips, and then I'll come around to your desks individually and you can draw the name of your exchange partner."
People began filling out their slips and tossing them into the bags. I hesitated for a moment, then looked across the table to where Connor was filling out his own slip. As I watched, he folded it once, then put it in the bag with the buff Santa on it. Then he looked directly at me.
Breaking off eye contact and hoping my face wasn't red, I took a deep breath and scrawled my name on the paper. "Remember," Becca said as she picked up the Mrs. Claus bag and held it in my direction, "you cannot reveal who your exchange partner is until the holiday party on Friday. No cheating!"
I gave Becca a wry smile and dropped my slip in the bag. I immediately wished I hadn't. What did I just get myself into? What the heck do I know about unique singles gifts?
I sat at my desk for the rest of the morning and half the afternoon, wracking my brain for an idea. When Becca finally stopped by with her bags, I was half way to cussing her out.
"Why do you always have to be so damn creative?" I whined. "I don't have the first clue about what to get for a singles Secret Santa!"
Becca laughed and set her bags on my desk. "Calm down, crazy woman," she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and staring down into my face. "You got this. Trust me. It'll be fun."
"That's what you always say," I grumbled, and she laughed again and turned to her bags.
"Here, let me help you get the inspirational juices flowing." She reached into the buff Santa bag and pulled out a slip. "Let's see exactly who you'll be buying for."
Taking the folded slip from her hand, I closed my eyes, took a breath, and opened it.
Then I closed my eyes again, counted to three, and opened them again, staring at the slip.
Connor Douglas was written there in a strong, masculine script.
"No way," I whispered.
"Let me see," Becca said, snatching the slip from my shaking fingers. A smile burst across her face when she read the name. "See! I knew this was a good idea!"
"What are you talking about?" I said, my brains still scrambled.
"I know you have a crush on Connor. This could be how you reel him in."
"I'm not trying to reel anyone in!" I shoved the slip of paper in my purse. "This is my nightmare, Bec!
"What are you talking about, MaDarlin’?" She put her hands on her hips and leaned her head to the side. "I know you think you're on lockdown until Bennie moves out of the house, but that's just ridiculous. You're still young, and you're gorgeous. You could have your pick of guys, so I still don't understand why you insist on not dating."
I shook my head. "You don't understand, Bec. I barely have time to keep my house from collapsing into the chaos of dirty laundry and children's toys. I don't have time to date."
She opened her mouth to interrupt me, but I held out my hand to stop her. "And even if I did, I don't feel comfortable bringing guys home to meet Bennie. He doesn't need to see Mommy's string of boyfriends, or God forbid bond with one, and when it doesn't work out, he'll be devastated. I can't do that to him."
Becca's face softened. "I know you're worried about your son, but I really think you're seeing this through the lens of your failed marriage. You're assuming you won't find someone to spend forever with. And that's where I think you're wrong."
"Agree to disagree," I said, turning back to my computer screen.
"It will be okay," Becca said softly, leaning into to my ear. "It's just a silly gift. Don't lose sight of that." Then she straightened and picked up her bags. "I'm off to continue playing elf to the rest of the office."
After she left, it was almost impossible for me to focus the rest of the afternoon. The only thing I could think about was the time I lied about my favorite F-word.
Chapter 7
Connor
I was headed towards the break room when my phone pinged. I pulled it up and saw a message from John. It was a meme with two camels getting busy, and it said, 'Happy Hump Day. ' I shook my head and laughed. For a forty-year old man, John could be just as juvenile as a frat bro.
I took a seat at one of the open tables and unwrapped the sandwich I'd made from some leftover roast beef. I froze, like always, when Madlyn entered and made her way across the breakroom.
There was an elegance to the way she walked, a motion almost like waves in the ocean. Shit, if anyone could walk on water, Madlyn could. I watched as she opened the fridge and dug inside. Mumbling to herself, she stood, closed the fridge, then slapped herself on the forehead.
I was too startled to laugh. "What's wrong?" I asked as she started walking slowly from the fridge.
"I was in such a rush this morning, I forgot to grab the salad I'd made for lunch."
"You can have half of my sandwich," I said.
Madlyn shook her head. "No, I couldn't do that. You need the whole thing for yourself."
"Is that some kind of joke about my figure?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.
She let out a surprised laugh. "Not at all. Your figure looks fine from here."
That caused a smile to spread across my face. Come a little closer, darlin', and let's see if you mean it.
I could tell that she was wavering, so I pressed my advantage. "Come on, grab some of this sandwich. We both know spreadsheet-itis is hell on the stomach."
Madlyn laughed again and pulled out a chair at my table. "You make a good point."
I handed her half of my sandwich and dug into my own portion. For a moment we ate quietly, then I spoke, hoping to amuse her with a story from my morning routine.
"I know how it feels to be rushed in the morning. Today, I hit the snooze button so many times that when I finally hauled my ass out of bed, I had twenty minutes to make it in here."
Madlyn grimaced. "I'd never be able to do it."
I chuckled. "It just takes practice. I've mastered the art of the two-minute shower. I made it to my desk with three seconds to spare."
She set down the sandwich to give me a round of applause. I mimed a bow and giving a flourish with my hand. What I didn't share was the real reason I'd hit the snooze button so many times.
I'd wanted to stay in the dream I'd been having. The best fucking dream of my life.
In the dream, Madlyn had been on her knees in front of me, licking her lips while she stared up at me with hungry eyes.
Ever since drawing that damn slip from the Secret Santa bag, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. Knowing that she'll be the one receiving my gift had been driving me nuts for days.
Madlyn laughed. "I'd never have the luxury of hitting the snooze button. Not with my six-year-old terror." She retrieved her phone and pulled up a picture of a little boy with dark hair and a handsome smile. "That's Bennie. And he hasn't slept past six thirty in two years."
