Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Christmas Dick
Scott Hildreth
Dedication
To anyone who has ever had a Christmas wish granted.
Contents
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Also by Scott Hildreth
About the Author
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book contains scenes of sexual acts with multiple partners. The acts and actions depicted in the book are fictitious, as are the characters.
Every sexual partner in the book is over the age of 18. Please, if you intend to read further than this comment, be over the age of 18 to enjoy this novel.
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, are coincidental.
CHRISTMAS DICK 1st Edition Copyright © 2017 by Scott Hildreth
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author or publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights
Cover design by Jessica www.jessicahildrethdesigns.com
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Chapter 1
Company Christmas parties were the one time a year that an employee’s drunken decisions were forgiven, regardless of what they might have been. The five years I’d worked for Savoy Marketing stood as proof.
It seemed every year I ended up with part of my female anatomy on the copy machine and my friend Kaci pressing the copy button a dozen times. Awkward looks and snickering in the hallways followed when we returned from our holiday break, but I was never reprimanded.
I viewed the gatherings as a free pass to let my managerial hair down, and do or say what was off-limits the remaining 364 days of the year.
“I can’t believe Mister Shirley combined our party with theirs,” Kaci complained. “I don’t know half these people.”
The tuxedo-wearing bartender could have played basketball through his college years. As I wondered how difficult it was for him to get a tux that fit, he handed me a glass of Moscato and grinned. I shot him a smile and turned toward the open room. Of the hundred or so people in attendance, I recognized only a handful.
“I don’t know half of them either,” I said in agreement. “But, who cares? The drinks are free.”
I followed her as she maneuvered past the manned buffet and toward an empty table. She turned around and reached for a chair.
Her eyes slowly widened. “Holy shit.” She gulped her wine. “That Santa is hot as fuck.”
The room was peppered with obnoxious bearded youth and equally obnoxious men dressed in overpriced short-legged suits. None were dressed as Santa, and not one of them qualified as being hot.
“Where?” I asked.
She shifted her eyes to the side. “Behind you.”
I pulled a chair away from the table and glanced over my shoulder.
Dear God.
He was tall, had an athletic build, and wore a light scruff on his angular jaw. With one boot propped against the wall behind him, he watched as a group of women walked past. Although we stood fifty feet away, I could see that his hands – and fingers – were covered in tattoos. His worn jeans seemed to fit his persona well, but clashed with the felt coat that was draped over his shoulders like a red cloak.
A drink dangled loosely from between his thumb and forefinger. An elderly woman clad in an ugly Christmas sweater gave him a side-eyed look.
He raised his glass and forced a crooked smile.
“He looks thrilled,” I said.
Kaci snorted a laugh. “I want to climb him like a tree.”
“He’s not even wearing the coat,” I said. “Look. His arms aren’t through the sleeves. It’s like a Santa cape.”
“Maybe he’s a holiday superhero.”
“Christmas Dick.” I chuckled. I turned to face her. “He flies around and fucks all the overworked and undersexed women in the city.
She batted her eyes. “He can start with me.”
I sat down and then stole another glance. He hadn’t left his day job at the mall to come to the Christmas party, that much I was sure of. Amidst the tech-savvy dot-commers dressed in fitted suits, and the hoodie-wearing hipster employees of an earth-friendly welcome mat company, he seemed out of place. Sickeningly handsome, but out of place.
His eyes scanned the room. Upon meeting my gaze, he pushed himself away from the wall and finished his drink. Then, he began to saunter toward our table.
I spun around. “Crap.”
“What?”
“He caught me,” I said.
Her face washed with confusion. “Huh?”
I leaned closer. “I was looking at him, and he saw me,” I whispered. “Now, he’s coming this way.”
She peered over my shoulder. “Holy shit. Santa’s got some serious swagger.”
I slumped in my seat and watched Kaci’s facial expressions intently. Being chastised for ogling the tattooed biker wasn’t high on my evening’s activity list. As her expression changed from curiosity to worry, I prepared for the wrath of Mister Claus.
The blur of a tattooed hand made its way into my peripheral vision as he grabbed the chair to my immediate left.
I sank a little further into my seat.
He turned the chair around and sat with his forearms clutching the back. His dark hair was draped behind his ears and was cut to a length that almost touched the faux fur of his red cloak. After nodding at Kaci, he turned toward me. His broad chest peeked through the opening of his coat. Seeing it only added to the tension I was already feeling.
He looked me up and down. “Evening, ladies.”
His voice was low and commanded the full attention of whoever was within earshot, even though he didn’t inflict much emotion in his tone.
“Hi,” Kaci squeaked from across the table.
I felt myself blush. I set my wine aside, swallowed heavily, and managed a finger-wave.
He undressed me with his eyes. After taking every inch of me in, his eyebrows raised. “You don’t talk?”
Paralyzed by the tone of his voice and his handsome looks – and feeling like a fool for being caught eyeing him – I simply nodded.
He coughed out a dry laugh. “Can you read lips?”
I gave a shrug of uncertainty.
He pressed the tips of his index and middle finger against his lower lip, and then rolled it downward. Much to my surprise, two words were indelibly marked on the flesh of his inner lip.
<
br /> As I read the tattooed script, my lady bits began to tingle.
Chapter 2
I gazed at the tattoo in disbelief. The words WANNA FUCK? stared back at me, taunting me to lead him to the women’s bathroom and have Kaci watch the door while I rode him like a rented mule.
In hope of squelching my urge to immediately accept his invitation, I crossed my legs. It only aggravated matters. I uncrossed them and reached for my wine. “Did that hurt?”
He lowered his hand. His mouth twisted into a smirk. “They all hurt,” he said flatly. “If anyone tell you otherwise, they’re a liar.”
Savoy Marketing and EarthMatt had combined their holiday efforts into one party. I knew he didn’t work for Savoy, leaving the eco-friendly welcome mat company as his employer.
“So.” I steadied my shaking hand and sipped my wine. “You work for EarthMatt?”
His brows knitted together. “Who?”
“EarthMatt.” I gestured toward the vinyl banner that hung over one of the doorways. “The welcome mat people.”
He chuckled a dry laugh. “Afraid not.”
Mister Shirley was hiring two new maintenance men. I promptly envisioned tattooed Santa being one of them. He could fuck me in the stockroom while I searched through boxes of decade old financial reports for something I’d never find.
“You work for Savoy?” I asked excitedly.
He raked his fingers through his hair. When he did, his coat fell off his shoulders and landed in a crumpled pile on the floor. I started to say something, but decided against it when I got a view of his bulging biceps.
It seemed every inch of his exposed skin was covered with tattoos. I got lost in admiring them for a moment, and then glanced at Kaci. With a gaping mouth, she gawked at him from across the table. Apparently, she was just as interested in sitting on Santa’s lap as I was.
“Savoy? Never heard of ‘em,” he said. “I just came in here for a drink.”
Kaci choked on her laugh. “You crashed the party?”
He crossed his arms over his massive chest and grinned. “Kind of.”
A hint of his musky manliness wafted into my nostrils. If sexy had a scent, he was secreting it. I drew a slow breath and relaxed into a pillow of lustful thoughts. After a few mental orgasms, the sound of Kaci’s voice brought me back to my senses.
“What about the Santa outfit?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm. “Do you carry that with you just in case you see a party?”
“I did a Toys for Tots run a couple of weeks back, and never took it out of my bags.” He reached for his glass and then gave me a look. “You always make it a point to side-step questions?”
Still under the effects of his bravado spell, I gave him the deer in the headlights look. “What question?”
He arched an eyebrow. “You’re walking around here inviting people to proposition you. Then, when someone does, you want to change subjects.”
All I did was look at him. It may have been with done with lustful eyes, but him seeing it as an invitation from fifty feet away was impossible.
“How did I invite you to proposition me?”
He gestured toward my lap with his eyes. “You’re not wearing panties,” he said matter-of-factly.
My face flashed hot. He was right. I wasn’t wearing panties. Unless he was a true superhero – and possessed x-ray vision – knowing it was impossible.
“Why would…why do you say that?” I stammered.
He chuckled. “Because you’re not.”
I decided to wear my commando status like a diamond-studded crown. “You’re right,” I snapped back. “I’m not.”
He scanned the length of my body. Slowly. “I’m well aware.”
I cinched my thighs together. “How do you…know?”
“When a woman’s not wearing ‘em, her walk’s unrestricted. Graceful.”
I beamed with pride. “I walk with grace?”
His smirk returned. “Pantiless grace.” He shifted his gaze to Kaci. “Would you consider yourself a strong woman?” He leaned onto the edge of the table and locked eyes with her. “Physically?”
“I uhhm.” She gave him a puzzled look. “I think so. I mean, I work out and stuff. So, yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering.” He reached for his coat and then stood. “Let’s get a drink.”
I would have followed his sexy ass into the fiery depths of hell. Following him to the bar was a no-brainer. I drank what was left in my glass and glanced at Kaci. “C’mon.”
She sprung from her chair and scurried to Santa’s right side. “I’m ready to start drinking something other than wine.”
“What’s the story with you two?” he asked. “Are you sisters?”
Kaci laughed. “We get asked that all the time. She’s my boss. I’m Kaci, by the way.”
“Kaci, huh?” He looked at me. “And, you are?”
I stood and stepped to his left. “Tracey.”
“Kaci and Tracey?” His gaze hung on me for several steps. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious,” Kaci said.
I offered a nod of reassurance. “Seriously.”
The trek to the bar revealed his bold gait Kaci mentioned earlier. I wondered if it came naturally, or if it was something he practiced in front of the mirror. I decided it didn’t matter. I needed to get drunk and toss my inhibitions to the wind. If he truly crashed the party, and I was pretty sure he did, the chances that I’d ever see him again were nil. I needed to find the courage to act like I’d never see him again.
He nodded at the bartender and raised three fingers. “Three shots of Patrón.”
The lanky bartender grinned. “Patrón times three, coming right up.”
“Oh God,” I whined. “Tequila makes me act stupid.”
“Stupid how?” Santa asked.
“She takes off her clothes,” Kaci warned.
“Make ‘em doubles,” Santa said dryly. “No salt, no lime.”
Tequila caused me to do and say things that I normally wouldn’t. Kaci, however, had proven repeatedly that she was impervious to its effects.
The bartender poured the shots and slid them to the edge of the bar. Santa cupped the three glasses in his massive tattooed hand, and then offered them to us. After we accepted, he raised his glass.
“The snake calls the grass his home, to the sailor, it’s the sea. The biker’s feet aren’t nailed down, all he wants is to be free. If he offers toast, raise your glass, but no salt will you lick. If you drink, be forewarned, you’ll be gettin’ the Christmas Dick.”
It was the beginning of what was sure to be one wild and crazy night, but I didn’t care. It didn’t seem Kaci did, either. In unison, we raised our glasses.
Here’s to getting the Christmas Dick.
Chapter 3
My insistent co-worker demanded we drink a shot of Fireball, and I succumbed to her request. Then, Santa ordered a beer, and we each got a glass of wine. While Kaci flirted with the bartender, I turned to go to our table.
Santa faced the exit. “We’re going this way,” he said over his shoulder.
I peered beyond him and into the foyer. All I could see was a bank of elevators and the doorway that led to the fire escape. I scrunched my nose in opposition. “What’s that way?”
“The elevator,” he said. “We’re going to the roof.”
I doubted verbally opposing him would go over well, so I offered no argument. Kaci was young and adventurous, making her lack of resistance come as no huge surprise.
“What are we going to do on the roof?” I asked.
He looked at me like I’d backed over his Harley. “If you’ve got to ask, you must not be as intelligent as I thought you were.”
I doubted he hoped to fuck me on the roof. Excluding that, I had no idea what he might have planned. With each step we took, the three shots of liquor pushed my courage closer to the surface.
We followed him to the elevator like lemmings parading to the edge of a cliff. He held the door and waved
us inside as if it was a trip he’d made a thousand times in the past.
Kaci nestled in the corner behind him. I gave a thankful nod and stepped to his side. “Why’d you tattoo that stuff on your lip, anyway?”
He pressed the button to the sixteenth floor and glanced over his red felt shoulder. “I was young and dumb. It’s a definite regret. A good conversation piece, though.”
“What about the rest of them?” I scanned his tattooed forearms. “Any regrets?”
He shook his head. “Not one.”
As the elevator rose, my desire to tear off his clothes went right along with it. It could have been that I was confined in the elevator with him and forced to breathe his sexiness for sixteen floors. The glass and a half of wine and three shots of liquor may have been the culprit. Either way, during the elevator ride, the cognitive side of my brain went numb, leaving me with no ability to make sound decisions – and no desire to keep my mouth shut.
In short, it was on like Donkey Kong.
“What’s your name?” I dragged my eyes up and down his well-built frame. “We told you ours.”
“Dick,” he said flatly.
I cocked my hip and gave him a side-eyed look. “Your name’s Dick?”
“My name’s Richard.” He sipped his beer while he gave me the evil eye. “I go by Dick.”
My gaze dropped to his waist. “Is it appropriate?”
He lowered the bottle and swallowed. “Is it what?”
“Your name.” I raised my gaze to meet his. “Is it fitting?”
Kaci giggled.
The elevator doors opened. He turned to face me and rested his thumbs against the corners of his jeans’ pockets. “You want to know if I have a big dick?”
Christmas Dick (One-Handed Reads Book 1) Page 1
