The Naughty List: A Christmas Romance

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by Hazel Kelly


  I sip my surprisingly tasty peppermint aperitif while my eyes bounce around the room like those of a little girl who’s just walked into a real jewelry box. Gold tinsel drips down every wall like icicles and each chandelier is an explosion of poinsettia.

  I make a beeline for the closest bar to keep myself from bumbling around the room like an idiot, and I recognize two Broadway stars and a famous director on the way. I run through all his most famous work and rack my brain to come up with an obscure compliment to give him if we bump into each other so he knows I’m a real fan and not some sycophant who only knows his nominated films.

  I’ve just accepted a glass of champagne from the barman, who’s also dressed up like a Who from Whoville- complete with the pointy ears and nose- when I feel a bare hand on my lower back.

  “You wore the dress.”

  “You shouldn’t have,” I say, turning towards the familiar voice. Anthony stands there in a suit so slick I have half a mind to lick it off him.

  “No,” he says. “You shouldn’t have.” His eyes drop to the floor and climb up my body like he doesn’t care if the whole world sees him check me out. “I can’t even remember what the hell I’m doing here now.”

  I smile and my eyes pop open when I feel a short buzz in my panties.

  His mouth curls up on one side. “And you came properly accessorized.”

  “Why of course,” I say, locking my eyes on his. “They fit perfectly.”

  His mouth twists like his mind’s tripped into the gutter before something catches his eye behind me. “Jack!”

  I turn to see who he’s looking at and my stomach drops.

  “Jack, this is the woman I was telling you about,” Anthony says.

  “Very nice to meet you,” I say, recognizing the man instantly and extending my hand.

  “Anthony’s been raving about you,” he says, his silver handlebar mustache moving as he talks.

  My mind goes blank when I try to remember the compliment I came up with earlier, but my mouth is too dry to be useful anyway.

  Anthony tilts his head towards the famous director. “I told him he’s the perfect guy to give you your lucky break.”

  I nod and my panties buzz to life a second later.

  “What have you worked on recently?” Jack asks, sipping his whiskey.

  I shoot Anthony a look, but all he does is smile. “I’m between projects right now,” I say. “Taking time out to work on a script.” It’s a total lie, but I’m all dressed up and don’t really feel like mentioning the phone ad disaster or the feminine douche commercial I almost landed last summer.

  “Well.” Jack reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card. “I don’t normally do this, but I’m behind on the favors I owe this guy.” He slaps Anthony’s cheek a little too hard as if it’s not his first whiskey. “Give me a call after the holidays. I can’t make any promises, but I know a few people looking for some pretty faces.”

  I press my thighs together, but it only makes the vibrations more intense.

  “And if you can act all the better,” Jack says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I left my wife with a handsome man half my age, and I should know better.”

  “Good luck,” I say, spinning around as soon as he leaves to brace myself on the bar. “Stop it right now,” I hiss at Anthony.

  His eyes go wide as the buzzing stops.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Introducing you to the most successful director I know,” he says. “What the hell do you think?”

  “I’ve waited my whole life for a break like that and you pick that moment to test my acting skills? What the fuck?”

  He raises his hands at me. “I’m sorry, Holly. I was just having a little fun. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I lean against the bar and shake my head.

  “I just made an ass of myself,” I say.

  “You didn’t,” Anthony says. “And even if you had, he’s drunk. Trust me. Besides, you have his card now, and I’ll put in another good word after the holidays when he dries out.”

  I cock my head. “Yeah?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you,” he says. “All you were supposed to do was stand there, recognize him, and look like a million bucks, and you nailed it.”

  “How do you even know him?”

  He shrugs. “I can’t even remember. I think I first met him because he used to play cards with my dad.”

  “Oh. Well if you don’t mind, would you not embarrass me in front of anyone else that could actually give me my dream job?”

  “Sure,” he says. “My apologies. I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I sigh. “I forgive you, but only because you got me Jack Bauer’s digits.”

  “Have you been in the snow globe yet?”

  “No.”

  “Will you take a picture in the snow globe with me?”

  I roll my eyes. “Sure.”

  “C’mon.” He grabs my hand and leads me over to the far corner of the room, and it’s not long before it starts to feel like he knows everyone. What’s more, everyone seems to be complimenting him on what a fabulous party it is not so much like they want his agreement, but as if he planned the whole thing.

  We finally have a moment’s privacy in the snow globe, but I don’t want our picture to look weird so I don’t say anything. Afterwards, just when I’m about to ask him what’s going on, a woman with a headset comes up, hands him a microphone, and tells him he’s on in thirty.

  “I’ll be right back,” he says, heading towards the stage.

  I wave at some of the girls I recognize from the perfume counters on Burke’s first floor and make my way over to stand with them so I feel less out of place.

  A moment later, the music fades out and Anthony clears his throat at the front of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all so much for coming to the 45th annual Burke’s Christmas Party. As you well know, my grandfather started hosting this party once a year to celebrate the fact that Burke’s truly has the most dedicated staff of any organization, and over time, we’ve extended invites to some of our favorite clients, most valued customers, and most attractive friends.”

  His grandfather?

  “If you don’t know which category you fall into, you probably shouldn’t be here, but feel free to donate to one of this year’s chosen charities on your way out.”

  I look around and not only is everyone laughing, but no one seems surprised to see him on stage.

  “He’s dreamy as fuck,” one of the girls whispers behind me. “And just as single.”

  “Only cause he hasn’t met me yet,” her friend says. “God what I wouldn’t give to have his hands on my body.”

  “I thought you were going to say his fortune,” the other girl says laughing.

  I can’t block out their voices so I walk away, stopping on the side of the room near two people in full gingerbread costumes outside a life-size gingerbread house.

  Meanwhile, Anthony keeps talking about the money the party raised for charity last year and starts thanking all the people who’ve made the evening possible. All of a sudden, I’m feeling a bit lightheaded so I break a roof tile off the gingerbread house and take a big bite of it.

  “That’s a decoration ma’am,” one of the gingerbread people says to me a second later. “If you’d like some appetizers, there’s a selection on the far wall.”

  “Sorry,” I say, lowering the tile.

  She takes it and begins repairing the display.

  I attempt to slip into the crowd on the dance floor and make my way towards the exit for some fresh air. I take a seat in the lobby where it’s at least ten degrees cooler and pull out my phone to create the illusion that I’m not just sitting in the lobby freaking the fuck out.

  A text pops up about a minute after the band starts jingle bell rocking again in the other room.

  “Where did you go?”

  I don’t know why I feel so deflated. I mean, I knew he was out
of my league and that I was falling for him anyway, but I guess I didn’t realize exactly how far out he was and how far I’d already fallen.

  It’s like the bubble on my fantasy has been burst, and I’m not sure how to go back to enjoying my Christmas fairytale when the truth of the matter is that Anthony could have his pick of any woman in that room. So I can’t help but question whether I’m just a temporary amusement, much like the vibrating panties I’m wearing.

  My phone rings in my hand. “Hello?”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Back to reality,” I say. With a thud.

  “I don’t know what that means,” he says, “But I just ordered you a chocolate cake shot, and I look really sad standing here with two of them.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The snowman bar.”

  I shake my head. “You’re talking in riddles.”

  “If you look around, you’ll see one of the bars has a snowman flying over it. Like in the children’s book.”

  I walk back to the doorway and, sure enough, I can see exactly what he’s talking about. I weave my way through the crowd and reach his side a moment later, at which point he dismisses the couple he’s talking to and turns his attention to me.

  “So your last name is Burke,” I say.

  He smiles. “Last I checked.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  I cock my head. “Obviously you did or you wouldn’t have been shady and told me you were in retail.”

  “I am in retail.”

  I groan. “You aren’t in retail, Anthony. Your family invented retail. That’s not the same.”

  “Did you like me before you knew who I was?”

  I squint at him. “Yeah.”

  “Well, that’s why I didn’t tell you,” he says. “If you’d known who I was from the start, you could never be sure of the answer to that question.”

  I press my lips together.

  “And neither could I.”

  “So now what?” I ask. “I’m just supposed to pretend you’re a regular guy?”

  “A regular guy who’s really into you,” he says. “Preferably one that you find terribly charming and attractive.”

  The corner of my mouth curls up. “And let’s say- hypothetically- that I’m a good enough actress to make you believe that’s the case.”

  He laughs and the low sound rumbles in my core. “Then I’m going to hypothetically take you upstairs and do whatever it takes to convince you that I am not a regular guy and that there is nothing regular about my feelings for you.”

  “You can’t just walk out of your own party.”

  “Can I let you in on a little secret?” he asks, leaning towards me.

  “Sure.”

  His warm breath teases my ear. “I’ve left this party early every year since I was sixteen.”

  “And what about our chocolate cake shots?” I ask, eyeing them on the bar beside us.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” he says, lifting his shot glass.

  “To what?” I ask, raising mine.

  “To next year’s Christmas party,” he says. “May we make our escape even sooner.”

  E L E V E N

  I’m struggling to keep to myself in the elevator. I don’t know what it is about being in enclosed spaces with Anthony, but his sexual energy is so palpable it feels like the only thing to do is give in to it.

  “That shot really did taste like chocolate cake,” I say, licking my lips. “Any idea what was in that?”

  “Equal parts Fra Angelico and vanilla vodka.”

  “That’s it?” I ask.

  “And then you chase it by biting into a sugar coated lemon wedge.”

  “I could drink that all night,” I say.

  “No you couldn’t,” he says, glancing at the numbers lighting up over the door. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “So you always skip out on the party, huh?”

  He sticks his hand in his pocket and my clit starts buzzing a moment later.

  “Nine times out of ten,” he says, crossing the elevator. “But this is the first time I feel really good about my excuse.”

  He leans his hips against mine and traces a finger along my jawline.

  “It’s sort of hard to concentrate with that on,” I say, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks.

  “Now you know how I feel around you all the time.”

  I lean my head back against the wall and try to catch my breath while waves of heat buzz up from between my legs.

  “What do you want for Christmas, Holly?” he asks as his hands slide around my waist.

  “The same thing I want every year,” I say. “For my family to be happy and healthy. And for snow. I always wish for a White Christmas.”

  “Surely you want something else,” he says, kissing my neck.

  My clit is buzzing faster now, but it’s hard to keep track of his hands when his kisses are making my eyelids so heavy. “I want you to not be too good to be true,” I whisper.

  He laughs, the low sound rumbling in his chest. “I assure you I’m not too good to be true, though I do want to be very good to you.”

  The elevator dings and Anthony explains to several strangers that we’re going up. Meanwhile, I stand there flustered while my underwear vibrates.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can handle this,” I say, my stomach flipping.

  “Not to worry,” he says as the door opens again. “This is our stop.”

  I follow him to his suite, wondering if this thing in my thong can resist water damage as he opens the door. When I step inside, my jaw hits the floor. The entire room is decorated in red and gold and there are Christmas trees in every corner that are better decorated than the ones in the Burke’s Christmas windows.

  I grab the back of the closest chair and the buzzing stops for a moment. “This is incredible,” I say, breathing in a thick scent of pine and realizing they’re real trees.

  “I didn’t think a little poinsettia was going to impress a Christmas nut like you.”

  I spin around and we’re standing eye to eye. I feel brave from the variety of drinks I consumed so quickly and from having the attention of this irresistible man. I give him a kiss and drape my hands around his neck. “What do you want for Christmas?”

  “It’s funny,” he says, draping his hands on my hips. “The answer to that question has changed so drastically since I met you.”

  “Oh?” I raise my eyebrows. “What was it before?”

  “I had my eye on a Porsche 911.”

  I don’t even try to guess how big his Santa’s budget is. “And now?”

  “Your undivided attention is all I’m after.”

  “What makes me so special?” I ask, unable to stop myself. “I mean, you could have any woman in that room downstairs.” I finger the white buttons on his dress shirt.

  “I wish I knew,” he says, his eyes on me. “All I know is that the first time I saw you, I had this feeling that you were the one I’ve been waiting for.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m just trying not to blow it.”

  I laugh and take his hand, leading him around to the front of the chair. Then I kiss him, holding his cheek with one hand and finding his pants with the other.

  “This is the part where I seduce you,” he says between kisses.

  “Change of plans,” I say, lowering his zipper. I push his pants towards the floor and then pull his boxers down, my mouth watering at the sight of him. I swallow, desperate to hold my nerve before wrapping his tie around my hand and pulling his face to mine. “This is the part where I give you my undivided attention.”

  An expression of twisted longing flickers over his face.

  “And I’m not going to stop until you let it snow right down my throat.”

  He kisses me hard, holding the back of my neck so his kiss can reach deeper. Then he sits down and scoots his hips to the front of the ch
air.

  I take a deep breath and step out of my heels before sinking to my knees and reaching for his swollen cock.

  His eyes watch my every movement as I stroke him a few times before leaning forward. When I take him into my mouth, he moans and it turns me on to hear him make a sound I’ve never heard him make before. He whispers my name as I suck him slow, working him with my hand.

  There’s something undeniably sexy about doing something so dirty in the fanciest dress I’ve ever worn, and I grow wetter with every surge of his dick against the delicate flesh of my red lips. When I tighten my grip on him, my underwear starts to buzz again, and I no longer know who’s going to come first.

  I can’t tell if the vibrator is on a higher setting or if it just feels more intense because I’m pleasuring him, but every time I flick my eyes up to look at his face, he’s watching me- sometimes with slightly parted lips, sometimes with his jaw clenched shut.

  I moan so he can feel how much I’m enjoying himself, and he clenches a fistful of my hair in his hand a second later, pulling it just hard enough to turn me on.

  “Get up,” he says through gritted teeth.

  I blink up at him and lick my lips.

  “I want you to come with me,” he says.

  I’m slightly delirious from pleasuring him and can barely understand what he’s asking me.

  “Stand up,” he says, reaching forward to help me.

  I brace myself on one of his shoulders when I rise to my feet.

  He slides his hand in the slit of my dress, pushes the fabric behind me so my panties buzz in front of him, and pulls me to my knees over his lap. Then he reaches up and presses the vibrator against my clit, watching as my eyelids flicker before pushing it carefully to one side and dragging his fingers along my soaking slit.

  I bite my lip in anticipation.

  He keeps his eyes on me, grips his dick, and presses it against my pussy.

  I lower myself down on him until the vibrator is buzzing against both of us.

  “Oh god,” I mouth, but no sound comes out. The heat and pleasure is too intense, and Anthony pulls my ass forwards and back at just the right speed.

  I grip the back of the wide chair behind his shoulders, and he kisses me while he hits me so deep that I can’t feel anything but where we’re joined.

 

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