Mr. Naughty: A Second Chance Christmas Romance

by Kara Hart

  “Why not,” I say.

  Michael

  I grab my phone and scroll through the hundreds of pictures on my phone. “This one isn’t good,” I say to myself. “Definitely not this one.”

  At least half of these pictures are with my ex-wife and the other half are with my daughter. Do I put a picture of me and my daughter up? Is that weird? The online dating etiquette is not something I am used to. In fact, there’s no real reason why I’m even on this thing, other than the fact that I want to bang my new employee. That, of course, is out of the question. It’s a violation of ethics. My thought is that if I find someone else to look at, maybe I’ll be able to move past my desires for once.

  The hidden truth is that this is how I met my last wife. She was everything to me. I saw her at a party. We were so fucking young then. My friends surrounded me while hers surrounded her. Looking through the sea of people, just to find her. She was gorgeous to me. That was before I knew how mean she got, before I knew what she could do to a man.

  I was obsessed. Fucking hooked. I couldn’t stop calling her. Long nights on the phone, talking about nothing. That was how it started. One desire. That’s all it takes. Of course, that’s exactly why I’m scared. I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust the testosterone in my body. My dick wants her, and of course that makes my heart pump strange endorphins, but what is it that I’m really searching for? Peace? Stability?

  Maybe I just want to be alone. That’s a thought I have sometimes. The quiet house creaks a little during the day, but I tend to busy myself with enough work to be distracted. A man’s worst enemy is himself, I once decided. Your choices will end up draining everything you’ve worked so hard to get. Your empire will turn to dust. Children, ex-wives, and some bad fucking karma. That’s the legacy of man.

  Emily Carter, however, knows what she’s doing. She’s got that strange innocence that people possess before they hit their third decade. Youth, naivety, and the idea that anything is possible. That’s what she has inside those eyes of hers. And of course, I just want to take her in my arms and do the dirtiest things I can.

  At home, while the moonlight glistens at night, I look at Tinder and feel dissatisfied with the world. This is what we’ve come to? Dating apps? Fuck, I really am starting to sound old fashioned, but there’s nothing to these things. There’s no connection, no meaning. It’s just a screen that makes you feel a little lonelier amidst everything.

  So I turn the damn phone off and plug it in. I lay in bed and close my eyes. I think of Emily Carter and that beautiful, young body of hers. While Hanson was picking up the food, I should have made my move. That was my chance. She wanted me to. I could feel it.

  She wanted me to reach out and touch her side. She wanted my palm to close around her, to pull her as close as I could. She wanted to feel my cock growing against her thigh, as I ripped her shirt off and backed her up against a table. And I wanted to lift her ass onto that surface, to pull her panties down to her ankles and fuck her senseless.

  I open my eyes again and notice that my pulse is through the roof. I stand up and pace around my bedroom. I can’t have her. I can’t go after her. It would be so fucking wrong. Yet, everything inside me tells me that I need her. I need her lips around my cock, I need to feel her as deep as I can go, I need to taste her. “Fuck!” I nearly scream.

  I take off my clothes and walk over to my shower. I turn it on and wait for it to heat up. I need a break from everything. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve felt normal about my life. I thought that, eventually, things would even out, but it turns out I was wrong. As time passes, things only get more complicated.

  I take off my clothes, feeling my muscles ache. I must have lifted that three-hundred-pound table over forty times today. I step inside the big shower and let the hot water fall down my back. I step forward because it burns me slightly. When I’m used to it, I push my body back in. A little pain never bothered me. What’s a little more?

  Emily is crawling toward me on the bathroom floor, as I hold her leash in my hands, connected to the choker around her neck. Of course, this is all just fantasy. She’s too good for that. Too pure. In my head, she gets dirty for one person. Me. She’s never been bad before, no doubt. She’s always been obedient and good. I want to teach her the other side of living.

  I lean against the tiled wall and let the water fall into the drain. In the steam, I run my hands down my abs, to my cock. Thinking about her has already destroyed me. My cock is harder than a hammer. It needs her. I need her. I close my eyes again and picture her, still on her knees, sitting obediently. Her mouth and tongue are wide open and she’s waiting for it.

  I grab my cock and start stroking. I can feel her. I can taste her. My imagination is so fucking vivid right now. It’s four in the morning, and I’m practically hallucinating her with me right now. It’s not right. I’m going to have to face her in just a few hours. I can’t help myself. It’s all just too much to handle.

  I slide my cock in her mouth and she moans eagerly. In my thoughts, she cums almost immediately. It doesn’t take me much longer. I slide my hand up and down, eagerly waiting for some kind of end result. I picture her ass, pushed against my face. I taste her lips. I grab her tits and brush against each nipple.

  I begin cumming so fucking hard that I nearly lose balance in my shower. The feeling rolls through my body in shockwaves, until I’m numb and sitting, sprawled out on the shower floor.

  Emily Carter is the woman I’ve hired below me. Emily Carter is also the woman I can’t stop thinking about. Pretty soon, I’m going to cross the line. There’s no doubt about that. When I do, it’ll bring chaos and, most likely, my downfall.

  Emily

  “You actually got it? You downloaded the app? Oh God, I was just joking!” I laugh, but deep down, I’m slightly hurt. I didn’t actually want him to talk to other women. Hello, I’m right here.

  “Yeah, well…” He shrugs and goes back to work.

  I start on sawing my first block of wood. “Like this?” I ask him, still unsure of myself.

  He stops what he’s doing to look and shakes his head. “Close, but here, let me show you something,” he says. He sets down his tools and walks over behind me. He sits down and leans over my shoulder. “See this line?” he asks me. He’s so close to me. His lips are right next to my cheek.

  “Yeah, I see it,” I say, turning my cheek slightly. My shoulder brushes against his chest and I nearly jump.

  “You okay?” He laughs.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Keep teaching me. I’m learning,” I say.

  “Just aim for that line. You were close before, but you have to line it up just right, and keep steady. But always be aware of where your fingers are. Seriously, I don’t want you losing your thumb when you cut,” he says.

  “Okay,” I tell him.

  He squeezes my shoulders and smiles. Endorphins and feelings of goodness spread throughout my body. I have to shift my stance as I feel myself turn wet. “You’re doing really good. Trust me,” he says.

  “I trust you.” I smile. I trust him with more tools than this.

  “You’re doing better than I did when I first started,” he says.

  “That’s because I’ve got a good teacher,” I tell him. I run my hands across my jeans. My palms have grown sweaty. My face is clammy. I have to take a deep breath before I line everything up again. He’s watching me and I’m just getting so fucking nervous.

  “You’ve got this,” he smiles.

  I line it up, turn the saw on, and let it go. “I did it!” I laugh. He gives me a wink that sends shivers up and down my spine. I need to excuse myself because I’m practically soaking my panties at this point.

  “Hey boss,” Hanson says, “I forgot to tell you that the inspector came by when you were out buying tools.”

  “The inspector? He just came, right?” he asks.

  “Yeah, like six months ago. We’re overdue for an inspection,” Hanson says, biting his lip.

&nb
sp; “Shit,” Michael mutters and looks over at me.

  “What?” I ask him. “Is everything alright?”

  “We moved locations after my divorce,” I tell her. “It was cheaper to work out of my garage. Not exactly legal, though.”

  “I didn’t tell him shit,” Hanson says. “Told him this was just for storage and hobby work, but we’re going to have to figure out a better story, fast.”

  “How long do we have?” Michael asks.

  “Two weeks at the most, maybe.” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “What’s so illegal about working at home?” I ask.

  “Well, for one, this place is a fire trap,” he says. “Not that you’re in any danger, but the city might disagree with me on that.”

  “It could work,” Hanson says. “But we’ll need to clean the place up better and study the regulations.”

  “I’m on it,” Michael says, jumping out of his seat. “I’ll talk to my wife.”

  Great. His wife. “Ex-wife,” Hanson corrects him.

  “Whatever. Susan.” He shakes his head. “Lord, help me.”

  “Good luck, brother,” Hanson laughs. Michael walks out of the garage without looking back at me.

  “So, what, does he have to report to her at every hour of the day?” I ask Hanson.

  “Well, they own the business together,” he says.

  “They do?” I’m shocked. Seriously, shocked. “She’s my boss?”

  “Emily, she’s his boss.” He laughs. “No, but for real, she’s a real stone cold bitch. Worst of all, she doesn’t even work. She sits on the couch all day at her new guy’s place, drinking wine and spending half the money. It’s crazy shit.”

  “Sounds like it.” I sigh. Whatever desire I had has now shifted into something similar to disgust and annoyance.

  “Why’re you worried about it?” he suddenly asks me.

  The question takes me aback. “I’m not. I’m mainly just curious,” I lie.

  “Mmhm.” He smiles, hammers in a few nails, and takes off his goggles.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask him.

  He laughs and flips his hair back. “It means that I don’t believe you,” he says.

  “That’s fine. You don’t have to believe me. It’s not a requirement or law,” I say.

  “That’s true. It isn’t.”

  I saw another piece of wood and put it into the pile, ready to be sanded soon. After a few minutes of silent work, I stop the machine and look at him again. “What’s your problem?” I ask him.

  “My problem? Absolutely nothing,” he says.

  “Yeah? Well, it seems like you have one, like maybe you don’t enjoy me being here or something,” I say.

  He rolls his eyes, but then turns serious. “Listen, I’m the one who vouched for you. Michael wasn’t going to hire you. We had like fifty people send us their resumés. I’m the one who got you this job, so you should be thanking me, rather than fighting me.”

  “You got me this job? Seriously?” I ask him.

  He shrugs. “Well, yeah. Michael needs a woman around him who’s not so… bitchy,” he says.

  “So you got me to help him out?” I laugh. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

  “Bullshit,” he says. “It’s pretty fucking obvious at this point.”

  “Back off,” I warn him.

  “What’re you two fighting about?” Michael asks, as soon as he hears us.

  “Hanson is being a little turd,” I say. “No big deal. I’m starting to realize that’s all he’s really good for.” I turn my head slowly and look at him, darting my eyes his way.

  “Hanson, cut it out, man,” Michael says.

  “Yes, sir. Won’t happen again, sir,” he mocks.

  “Any good news?” I ask Michael. He sits down next to me and stretches his buff arms, over his head.

  “Well, my wife wants to come see the place tomorrow, but I doubt she’ll have any solutions to the problem,” he says. He gets up and walks over to the mini fridge near the door to the house. He grabs a six pack and hands us each a beer. “The good news is that I think we can relax for the day. I’m a little overworked. Let’s just take it easy.”

  “No can do,” Hanson says. “We have to finish these cabinets by Thursday. That means no breaks.”

  “For a ball buster, he won’t stop working,” I say.

  “Unfortunately, he’s one of the best,” Michael says.

  I take a sip from my Pale Ale and feel the cold carbonation satisfyingly burn the roof of my mouth. “So,” I sigh. “Now what?”

  “We wait,” he says. But he can’t stop staring at me, and I can’t stop staring back at him. And even though, we’re so close, there’s an unimaginable distance between us, begging us to find a reason to come together. The desire pulls at the strings of my existence. It grabs in between my legs and forces a new kind of warmth into my body.

  Michael Vanderbilt is not only built. He’s calm. He’s confident. He’s sexy. And he’s forbidden. It’s up to me to find the key, but for now, I’ll just sit and stare.

  Michael

  I want her so bad it’s fucking killing me at this point. Every single day at the shop is torture. Sitting close to her, close enough to brush against her lips, to smell her perfume, and feel her hair hit my cheek… it’s all just torture.

  She knows it. She knows what I want. But she’s playing the long, slow game. Not only that, but she’s obviously hesitant. I’m a dad. I’ve been married to a scornful woman. Those aren’t qualities that are necessarily number one on the hot list. Sure, it’s nice that I’m raising my daughter, but that’s about it. The novelty wears off pretty damn fast.

  When I scroll through the shitty dating app, I only have one mission: to find her picture and swipe as fast as I can to the right. That’ll break the ice, right? Of course, I stop myself after looking at three women. The whole thing is absurd. I’m a grown man. If I want her that bad, I’ll take her myself.

  The whole thing is going on inside my head, on replay during every moment. When I see Susan next, I can’t stop thinking about how different they are, about how Emily is the kind of woman I’ve been waiting to talk to for years. Who am I kidding? I’ve been waiting for this kind of woman for a decade now.

  “You can take her, right? I mean, you told the judge you were readily available when need be,” Susan says. Her stance is hostile, as I sit calmly on the couch. Her hands violently press against the sides of her hips. Her dress is new, probably bought on the company’s dime at some high-end fashion store. She never wore that kind of stuff when we were together. She always said, “I don’t see the point.”

  “Of course, I’ll take her,” I say. “But she’ll have to hang out in the shop. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty swamped with work right now.”

  “That’s why you’re hiring someone new right?” she quips back.

  “Right,” I say. She doesn’t know about Emily yet. I’ve been waiting for the precise moment to tell her we’ve hired a new person on the team. Funny thing is, I know I’m digging my own grave by keeping it from her.

  “How’s that going, by the way?” she asks. She loosens up a little, takes a short breath, and begrudgingly sits down next to me.

  “It’s going alright. We had over fifty applicants.” I shrug.

  “So, there should be some really qualified people. See, I don’t know why you stress so much all of the time. You’ll figure it out and get things done, just like you always have.”

  Stress. What does she know about stress? “It’s the busy season, Susan. But you’re right,” I say. “We have some people we’re heavily considering.”

  “Well, when the time comes, you come to me with the decision. I want to approve this with you. I don’t want to see our business fall by the wayside,” she says.

  “Of course not.” I sigh. Our business. At this point in the game, agreeing with her is all I can really do. If I say no, it’ll be a battle until the end. She’s an Aries,
after all, and I’m a Scorpio. Though I don’t really buy into that crap, I’ve found that it’s a deadly combo, nonetheless.

  “I’ll grab Lisa now, if you want,” I say. “Where is she?”

  “Sleeping,” she says. “You can wake her up if you want to.”

  I check my watch and smirk. “Sleeping? Still? It’s eleven in the morning. She should be up watching tv or something by now,” I say.

  “I’d rather her sleep than pollute her mind with nonsense,” she says.

  I ignore her comments. Maybe cartoons polluted all our minds. I have no idea. All I know is that I’m grateful to be getting out of her million-dollar home right now. I quietly walk into Lisa’s room and she’s awake already, rolling around in her small bed.

  “Look at you! You’re awake and everything!” I smile big and my eyes start to water. Every time I see her is like a breath of fresh air. There’s a lot of pain from this marriage, but Lisa holds the key to avoiding it. She’s my sunshine, forever.

  “Thanks dad,” she says with half a smile on her face. The other half of her face shows a slight annoyance, the hallmark of being a teen.

  I pick her up and kiss the top of her soft hair. “You ready for an adventure?” I ask her, struggling to keep her afloat.

  “Dad, stop. I’m not three years old,” she says.

  I ignore her protests, but set her down nonetheless. She’s right. She’s not a child anymore. We both walk to the stairs, hoping to avoid Susan, but she’s already downstairs waiting for me. “Don’t forget your phone,” she says, holding it out.

  “Thanks,” I mutter.

  “Tinder? Really? You’re going down a dark path, Michael,” she rolls her eyes.

  “A bit nosy, no?” I grab the phone.

  “Just trying to help you out, as always,” she snidely remarks.

  “Great, thank you so much,” I say. I walk out and head into the car, with Lisa laughing the whole way. She has no idea.