Operation: Santa's Elf: 3 Sweet & Spicy Christmas Novellas (Operation: Holiday Cheer Book 1)

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Operation: Santa's Elf: 3 Sweet & Spicy Christmas Novellas (Operation: Holiday Cheer Book 1) Page 8

by Allyson Lindt


  “I’m not finished.” His voice grated over her cracked nerves.

  She fixed a narrow-eyed glare on him, her jaw clenched. “You are.”

  He stared back, nostrils flared, gaze searching her face. She stood her ground. “Fucking bitch.” He finally shook his head and stepped back.

  Vivian gave the counter guy her attention. “Rough day?”

  “You have no idea.”

  She slid her platinum rewards card across the counter. “I’m hoping you can help me, but I understand if you can’t.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “I can’t ask for more.” She kept her tone kind and conversational. “My friend here is headed to Nebraska. And they have to make it out by tomorrow. Is there any way you can help?”

  “Lady, I can’t—“

  Vivian held up a hand to silence the husband. “There are two of them, plus a baby. Upgrade them if you have to.”

  “I’ve got a non-stop out at six tomorrow morning. Two first class seats. They’re not cheap though.”

  She looked at the husband. “You’re local, right? Can you make it back here by six am?”

  “We don’t know you.”

  “Nope. Merry Christmas, pay it forward, something like that.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at his wife, then back at Vivian. “Yeah, we can be here.”

  “Perfect.” Vivian finished the transaction, shrugged off the thanks, and shot her most wicked glare at the shouting man as she strode away from the gate. They couldn’t get her back to Atlanta until December 26. God, that ached in her chest. It was worth it though, to make that couple’s holiday.

  As soon as she was out of sight of the gate, she found an empty pocket of wall to lean against, and dragged in a shuddering breath.

  She was a grown woman, almost thirty-six for God’s sake, and a senior vice president for one of the world’s leading digital security companies. She wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the airport just because she couldn’t make it home for a couple more days.

  Chapter Two

  Damon muted the weather channel, but kept half on eye on the TV, when he reached for his ringing phone. “Hey, love.”

  “Hey, yourself.” Vivian sounded off somehow. Tired, but there was more to it he couldn’t place.

  Stress, probably. According to the TV, Salt Lake was seeing its worst blizzard since ninety-three. “Aren’t you boarding soon?” As soon as he asked, he knew the answer.

  “About that. They say nothing’s leaving today. And with holiday travel already overbooked for tomorrow…”

  “Of course.” He couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice. Christmas had been just another day for so long. A chance for him to catch up on work without disruption. Being back together with Vivian though, his perspective had shifted. He’d actually been looking forward to the holiday this year.

  “I’m sorry.” She spilled the story of the chaos at the gate

  The more she talked, the more his sympathy grew. “I get it.” He raked his fingers through his hair, and tried to keep his gaze from falling on the tree in the corner. Lit up, warm, taunting. From her side of the line, he heard the confusion in the background. “You’re still in the airport?”

  “Yeah. I have to find a hotel. If that’s even possible. See if I can get a cab. I’m not driving in this shit.”

  He didn’t blame her for that. She was a southern girl at heart. A quarter inch of white stuff was a foreign concept to her. Inspiration struck, but he didn’t want to give her false hope, so he kept the idea to himself. “Give me ten minutes, before you look for a hotel, and I’ll call you right back.”

  “I don’t know if I have that much time.”

  “Ten minutes, and then find a place.”

  “All right.”

  They said their goodbye’s and I love you’s. The moment they disconnected, Damon dialed another familiar number.

  “It’s not my birthday, so it must be Christmas.” Ethan greeted him with friendly sarcasm.

  Damon choked back years of teasing and the desire to greet him with hi, baby brother. The animosity that spurred the nickname vanished as they started working together over the past several months, but some habits died hard. “It is, as a matter of fact. How are you?”

  “Strangely suspicious. You want a favor, don’t you?”

  Damn it, he hated how well his brother knew him. He’d draw the banter out and protest, but he was intently aware of the time. “I do. I wouldn’t ask if it was for any other reason.”

  “I guess.” Ethan’s sigh was exaggerated. “It’s fine. What’s up?”

  “You know that hellish weather you’ve got going on?”

  “Ragnorok. Yup.”

  “Vivian’s stranded out there for a few days longer than she expected.”

  “That sucks.” The underlying thread of sarcasm in Ethan’s voice vanished, replaced with sympathy. “Does she need a ride, or some tips on tourist traps, or…?”

  “A place to stay. Like I said, I wouldn’t ask if it was for anyone else.”

  “It’s no problem. Does she need directions?”

  Damon wasn’t sure he could express his gratitude. “She’s at the airport still. Probably about to find a cab.”

  “Tell her not to bother. If she can wait half an hour”—a pause stretched on the line long enough Damon wondered if Ethan had dropped off. Then Ethan said—“make that forty-five minutes. It’s hairy out there. I’ll meet her in front of terminal two. Delta, right?”

  Since Salt Lake and Atlanta were both hubs, it wasn’t that hard to guess. “Yes. And thank you.”

  “Of course. Talk to you soon.”

  Damon called Vivian back to let her know, and assured her several times it wasn’t imposing. Conversations finished, he tossed his phone on the couch next to him, and sank back into the cushions. Crisis managed, his mind was free to wander. A fist gripped his lungs, and squeezed. He shouldn’t be so disappointed about this, but he couldn’t help it.

  Chapter Three

  Vivian locked the guest room door behind her, and sank onto the bed. She’d known Ethan since she and Damon dated back in college. This was the first time she’d met Jaycie, though. Damon was right, she liked the younger woman. Intelligent, sarcastic, and apparently capable of keeping Ethan on his toes.

  And as lovely as the couple was, they weren’t the people she’d been hoping to spend her evening with. They’d tried to keep her company, but she eventually had to excuse herself and find silence in her temporary home.

  Her luggage was already checked and on a plane back home. She was bit envious of those bags. It also meant all she had on her was her laptop and whatever basic toiletries fit in her carryon. She wanted to ask Ethan to stop somewhere on the way back to his apartment. While he was a pro at navigating the roads, at least as far as she could tell, she wasn’t so sure about the other drivers, and decided straight home was the best way to go.

  Vivian’s phone rang, and as soon as she saw Damon’s on the screen, she grabbed for the device.

  “Hey, love.” His voice was the most soothing sound she’d heard all day. When did she become such a sap?

  “Hey, yourself.” The familiar banter calmed her further. “I was thinking about calling you.”

  “Great minds, right?”

  She stripped off her shirt and bra, and draped them over a nearby chair. “Something like that. You up to anything interesting tonight?”

  “Best activity ever. Talking to you.”

  “You’re a sap.” She meant it in the best possible way, and he’d know it. She finished undressing, and crawled under the covers.

  “Only for you. Did Jaycie loan you something to wear until while your luggage is MIA?”

  “She offered me a T-shirt and shorts to sleep in, but she’s at least a size smaller than me, so no. I figured I could go without for just one night.”

  “Hmm…” The rumble in his voice sent pleasant chills dancing over her skin, even though he was th
ousands of miles away. “So you’re lying naked in a strange bed?”

  A smile twitched onto her face. Of course he’d twist the conversation. Not that she was complaining. A week away was too long even under the best circumstances. “I am.”

  “No one there to bind your wrists above your head. Tie your ankles to the bedposts.”

  “No one I’m comfortable asking.”

  He chuckled, and a rush of warmth flooded her. “Then you’ll just have to imagine I’m with you.” His tone was low and even, sliding into her thoughts, stripping away her tension and leaving traces of memory in its place. His scent, the weight of his body against hers. The delicious rush of being on display for him and only him.

  “That leaves me awfully vulnerable.” Which, she knew, was the point.

  “Exposed. Struggling. Unable to do anything but moan when flick my tongue over one nipple.”

  Her senses flared at the verbal image, familiar sensations ghosting over her skin at the notion. Tingling in her breasts, tugging at the invisible cord that ran through her body and focused between her thighs. She slid a hand up her chest, and pinched the hard nub, drawing a gasp from herself.

  “Vi.” Warning glided into his voice.

  She knew that tone. The delicious hint of threat. The promise of a sting of pain followed by a caress of pleasure. “Yes?”

  “You can’t touch yourself if your hands are bound.”

  Laugh or stick her tongue out at the phone? A little of both. “There’s no way you know I was doing that.”

  “Lucky guess. If I have to be hands-off, how is it fair you don’t?”

  “I think there’s a flaw in your logic. But I’m not certain.”

  “Nope. It’s completely sound. Now, where were we? Right. You’re at my mercy.”

  Exactly the way she liked it. The kink she used to think meant something was wrong with her. The desires she ignored because strong, independent women don’t think that way. The urges Damon knew exactly how to speak to and breathe life into. “Completely and utterly.”

  “Good girl. Let’s see… Right, I’m playing with your nipples. Those fun buttons that make you squirm. Rolling them between my fingers, tugging, pinching hard enough to make you groan.”

  Her hand twitched to map out his words, but holding back had its own appeal. His description filled her thoughts, and sent phantom sensations into the focus of his attention. This time her sigh was completely from mental stimulation.

  “Fuck. I wish I could hear that in person right now.”

  “Me too.” She swallowed the wave of loneliness.

  He made a half-cough, half-throat-clear sound. “Nothing to be done about it this. At least I can leave you wet and panting before the night’s over.”

  “If I tell you I already am, do I get off sooner?” She kept her tone light, to convey her teasing.

  “And by yourself. Are you tired of talking to me already?”

  “God, no.” This wasn’t the first time they’d had phone sex. Hectic travel schedules from both of them meant they spent more time apart than they liked.

  “Perfect.” The playfulness vanished from his voice, replaced by a serious tone. What he didn’t say was as important as what he did, and his voice made her head light with promises of what came next. “Because I’m focused on your chest right now. Gorgeous breasts. Swollen nipples. Pert and flushed from being abraded. Fitting perfectly in my hand. I’m spending several minutes, just moving from one to the other, only easing off for a few seconds at a time before lowering my head to nip at them”

  She closed her eyes and floated into the description. Need built between her thighs, and her squirming only amplified the desire. Something was different about tonight. Not just because it was the first time Damon had made her stay hands-off, but his voice felt more solid. The descriptions more real. Maybe one was related to the other, or maybe it was because of the odd sense of longing inside. “That feels incredible.”

  “I have to agree. Do you want me to stay up here all night?”

  “I have a say in the matter?”

  “Always.”

  “In that case, my pussy’s feeling awfully lonely, with all the attention you’re giving my tits.”

  “Can’t have that. I glide my hand down your stomach, and along your outer folds, following with my mouth. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

  She shifted her weight, and her legs rubbed together, increasing the friction already throbbing around her clit. She really was.

  “It’s been too long since you were here next to me.” That empty ping filtered back into his voice, clenching around her chest, then vanished again within a few words. “So I’m not sure I can drag the teasing out as long as I’d like. I draw my tongue along your slit. You taste so good.”

  She groaned at the thought. “I don’t know if I’d last long through teasing anyway.”

  “I wrap my mouth around your clit, flicking with my tongue, and slide two fingers inside you.”

  She arched her back at the invisible penetration, torn between letting her voice grow louder, and the fact she didn’t want her temporary landlords overhearing this. “That feels amazing.”

  “I suck, lick, finger until you’re squirming around me. Writhing.”

  “Let me come, please?” The request was as much reality as part of the fantasy. Her entire body tensed, floating at the edge of climax, but she wouldn’t finish without hands-on attention.

  “I’m so hard right now, Vi. I’m stroking my cock thinking about your taste. Your smell. The sounds you make.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, lingering halfway between the mental image and her physical need. “Please?”

  “Yes. Finger yourself. I want to hear you get off.”

  She didn’t have a witty retort. Permission was all she needed. She gasped when her fingers dragged over her clit, and her restraint vanished. Flicking and rubbing, she traced hard circles around her swollen sex.

  His grunts echoed over the phone, and blended into her pleasure. With her eyes closed, she almost felt him hovering over her. Nearly sensed him driving inside her. Pinning her knees to her chest. Pounding hard and fast.

  Vivian struggled to keep her cries soft when orgasm spilled through her in a sudden rush. She ground against her hand until her touch was too much, and her body shuddered away from the contact.

  Damon’s breathless groans, familiar and enticing, indicated he climaxed too.

  For several seconds, the only thing filtering over the phone was their grasps to find their breath again. She finally let out a contented laugh. “That was new.”

  “I’m keeping it in mind in the future.”

  Silence stretched between them again. “It’s late. Especially there,” she finally managed.

  “Only one. Sleep is for the weak.”

  “I miss you.” She couldn’t keep the yearning from her voice.

  “Me too.”

  “If I could get a flight somewhere further south, St. George maybe. Phoenix. I could drive down there, and still be home by tomorrow night.”

  His sharp intake of breath greeted her. “I’d love to see you sooner. You know it. But you’re talking a four to eight hour trip on good day, and when was the last time you drove in over a foot of snow?”

  Never. “There you go, being logical again.”

  “I’d rather have you home a day late than not at all.”

  “I know.” That stupid pang was back in her chest. Part of her argued she was being immature, and the other half spit back she had a good reason for it. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “I love you, Vi. Completely and wholly.”

  “I love you too. ‘Night, Damon.”

  She hung up, and set her phone on the nightstand. It was several hours later when exhaustion finally tugged her eyes shut. She’d never had trouble sleeping in strange places before. But at least when she dreamed, Damon slid into bed behind her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her close.

  Chapter Four


  Damon scrubbed his face, trying to chase away exhaustion. He reached for his coffee mug. Empty. Figured. After tossing and turning most the night, he gave up around six, and decided to get some work done.

  He didn’t understand the sleeplessness. An empty bed wasn’t new, even these days. Sure, it was warmer when Vivian was there, and he didn’t question for a moment he preferred it that way, but they spent time apart. Work demanded it.

  Speaking of, since he was awake, he was going to get some work done. A bitter laugh bubbled in his chest. This was supposed to be the year he actually took a holiday, but there was no point right now.

  No, he wasn’t bitter. If he didn’t do this, he’d spend the entire day staring at The Weather Channel, watching for news of the storm along the Rockies letting up.

  He fired off another email, including the tagline he’d typed so many times in the last few hours, he might as well copy and paste it. I hope you’re enjoying the holiday with your family. This is informational. No need to respond before the new year.

  He clicked send, then moved to the next task. His phone rang, and a rush of hope sped through him. Not Vivian. Of course not. It was early there, even for her. He hoped she was still sleeping. “Damon Vicker.”

  “Hey, you old work-a-holic.” It was Tim Hale, one of the colleague’s he’d emailed this morning. They’d known each other since law school. Time represented some of the biggest names in corporate America, including a few one-percenters.

  Damon pasted on his professional mask. Despite the phone conversation it would make it easier to keep things removed but friendly. “I didn’t expect to hear from you for another week.”

  “You know how it goes. Can’t take my eye off my email unless they pry the phone from my hands. Or until the plane takes off. Whichever comes first.”

  Small talk. Damon could do this. It was better than honing in on the reminder not everyone’s flight was grounded. “Where are you off to?”

  “Colorado. Got a client with a condo in Vail, and he’s treating the family to a getaway. Private jet and all. Can you believe it?”

 

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