by Fox, Cathryn
Confessions of a Bad Boy Santa
Cathryn Fox
Contents
Copyright
1. Eden
2. Kellan
3. Eden
4. Kellan
5. Eden
6. Kellan
7. Eden
8. Kellan
Afterword
Confessions of a Bad Boy Professor
About Cathryn Fox
Also by Cathryn Fox
Copyright
Copyright 2018 by Cathryn Fox
Published by Cathryn Fox
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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ISBN: 978-1-928056-93-5
1
Eden
“Do you think that stick up Kellan’s ass hurts him when he bends over?”
“Ohmigod,” I say, the champagne I’d just swallowed zinging back up my throat as I laugh out loud. The damn bubbles sting my sinus as Destiny, my best friend and coworker, cracks yet another joke about our regimented boss, Kellan Bites, owner and CEO of Pennsylvania’s biggest candy conglomerate, Sugar Bites.
With our company’s first ever Christmas party in full swing around us, I grab a napkin and hold it to my burning nose. From the other side of the big decorated boardroom, my boss—aka, the man with a stick up his ass—stops to talk to Bob, the company’s Vice President. Kellan looks angry about something, but that’s not unusual. Most times he walks around the office with a scowl on his face, his jaw clenched tight, and his hands jammed into his pockets. Did the man ever let loose, have some much needed fun?
Then again who am I to talk?
As he speaks with Bob, he balances a huge package in one hand and runs the other along his tie, smoothing it over his crisp white shirt. I can’t help but wonder if it’s knotted too tight, much like the rest of him. At his impressive height he stands a foot above the crowd, which forces him to dip his head when conversing with his right hand man. I can’t hear what they’re saying but from the distressed look on the VP’s face, it’s easy to tell the conversation isn’t a pleasant one. But I’m no longer focused on their faces, or what they might be saying to one another. No, my gaze has left Kellan’s clean-shaven jaw, and kissable lips to take in broad shoulders that narrow to a trim waist. The man is physically fit—he works out at the company gym at least five times a week—and looks as good in his custom made Armani suit as he does in sweat pants.
My gaze slides lower, hovers over the impressive bulge below his belt. His body shifts, turns my way, like he can feel me watching. My gaze darts back to his face and when those rich dark eyes connect with mine, linger a moment too long, a jolt of heat races through my system, hitting every erogenous spot along the way.
Mortified that he caught me staring, a sound catches in my throat—a needy little whimper of sorts—and I shift my focus back to Destiny to find her watching me, carefully.
Get it together, Eden.
“Don’t ever make me laugh again when I’m drinking champagne,” I say quickly, blaming my inappropriate moan on the tiny bubbles tingling my nose. God, the last thing I should be doing is blatantly undressing my boss. I don’t want him. Sexually or otherwise. He’s just nice to look at, is all.
Yeah, right.
As Destiny tries to stifle a laugh, I swallow, hard, hoping she can’t see through my diversion, and discover the real reason for my bedroom noises. Clearly it’s been too long since I’ve been touched by the opposite sex.
“Sorry. That must sting,” she says, tapping my nose.
Playing along, I glare at her, refusing to focus on the heat between my legs, the tightening of my nipples. “You don’t look sorry.”
“I am.”
I set the napkin down. “Then you’ll wait until I swallow next time.”
She bats long lashes at me. “That’s what she said.”
“How are we friends?” I ask and shake my head.
“Seriously though Eden, just look at him. He’s wound so tight, not even the Jaws of Life could dislodge that stick.”
“Stop it,” I say, and steal another quick glance at my boss as I clamp my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud again. I should not be sitting here snickering at Destiny’s boss jokes, not when there are dozens of employees and their children in the near vicinity, enjoying trays of catered food and Sugar Bites sweets as they wait for Santa to arrive. Anyone of them could be Kellan’s confidant and rat me out. From what I heard he’s gone through six public relations managers in as many months. If he knew I was laughing at him, he’d fire me in a heartbeat and not think twice about it. Yeah, he’s tough, in The Devil Wears Prada kinds of way.
Except Kellan Bites, who is now storming around the boardroom looking for God knows who as he juggles his big package—not the one I’d been glaring at with appreciation, thank you very much—is better known as the Devil Bites Candy, with Bites eluding to something entirely. Which means I need to keep my eyes off his body, before he’s begins his search for manager number seven.
Seriously though, getting fired is not an option. I need this job, need it to help my sister and nephew financially. I might be living off Ramen noodles and losing weight because of it, but I don’t care. I’d sell a kidney to help with little Dylan’s medical bills.
With that last thought in mind, I work to pull myself together, and plop a chocolate covered cherry into my mouth. “Mmm, delicious,” I murmur as I enjoy the rush. Sugar Bites definitely makes the best chocolate I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. As I consider that, my thoughts once again drift to my boss.
Would he taste as delectable as the candy melting on my tongue, give me a different kind of rush?
Stop thinking about Kellan sexually already.
A squeal in the near vicinity helps me refocus. I scan the room, take in the hyperactive kids jacked up on sugar as they scream and dart around chairs, chanting for Santa. I take a quick glance at my watch. It’s past seven. He should have been here an hour or go.
Destiny huffs beside me. “If I sneak out of here do you think the boss will notice?”
“Don’t you dare leave me here alone.” I’m the one who put this party together, and as much as I’d like to bail too, I can’t. “If I have to stay until the end, you do too.”
She holds her phone out, to show me a picture of a hot guy.
“When did you me
et him?” Honestly, I’m unable to keep track of her Tinder hookups.
“Last week.” She runs her finger over his picture. “You realize I’m giving up time in his bed for you, right?”
“You love me.”
“Apparently.” She tucks her phone away with a sigh. “Since you refuse to use Tinder or set yourself up with an online profile, maybe when Santa comes you can sit on his lap and ask him to deliver you a hot guy on Christmas Eve, dressed in nothing but a bow.”
I run my finger around the rim of my flute, thinking that’s not such a bad idea.
“Santa is here for the kids, not me,” I say.
“The kids have to be out of here by eight don’t they?”
“Yes.”
She sits up a little straighter, mischief in her eyes. “Good.” She points at me. “Then that’s when you and I are really going to have some fun.”
“I’m not—”
She closes her hand over mine, and her voice softens. “Look, you spend your days in the office, most of your lunch breaks at the children’s hospital, and at nights you volunteer for the Christmas hotline. All I’m saying is you deserve to have a little fun. Hell, you need to start having some fun, Eden or you’re going to turn into a droid like our boss man.”
“He’s not a droid.”
Ignoring me, she wags her brows. “Maybe Santa will be super hot and have a special package for you. A big one, if you know what I mean.”
Of course I know what she means. “I’m twenty three years old. I am not sitting on Santa’s lap. Big package or not.”
Okay, well maybe if he has a big package.
Wait, what?
Just then a server comes around and sets two more glasses of champagne in front of us. Destiny picks hers up and clinks it with mine. “You’d be surprised at what you’d do after a few more of these.”
“I swore I wasn’t going to have anything to drink,” I say and put the flute to my lips. “You are such a bad influence.”
“Be naughty, it makes Santa’s job easier,” she teases.
“Do you know the stats on people getting tipsy at the annual office Christmas party and doing something to embarrass themselves, or worse get themselves fired.”
“You’ve had two drinks, Eden. I think you’re fine.”
“I’m a lightweight.”
“That’s because you weigh all of one-hundred pounds, but it’s hard to tell beneath that sweater.” She makes a face and points to one of my many ugly Christmas sweaters.
I flick the bell on Rudolph’s nose and grin at her. “The kids at the hospital seem to like them.”
Her eyes soften as she gives me a warm smile. “Yeah, I bet,” she says. “You’re a good person. Way nicer than me.”
I glance around again, and sigh inwardly as I catch sight of Kellan’s back as he leaves the boardroom. Is he not even going to stay and enjoy his own office party? The man seriously works too hard.
“He has a lot of responsibilities,” I say quietly.
Destiny’s head jerks back with a start, and those astute blue eyes of hers burn into me. “Don’t tell me you’re sweet on him.”
“Sweet on him?” I give a very unlady like snort. “Oh, come on. Far from it.”
She taps her finger on my nose. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
“I am not sweet on Kellan,” I say deadpan. Heck, even if I was hot for the boss, which I’m not, he has that no office fraternizing rule. If I wanted to see him naked, it would have to be in my dream. Not that I dream about him. I don’t. “I’m just saying, taking over a multi-million dollar family business, can’t be easy on a guy who’s only twenty-nine. It’s a lot of pressure.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “He father was grooming him for this job when he was still a twinkle in his eye.”
“Maybe, but still…”
“The man needs to get laid. That’ll loosen him up. Hell, if I could get his head out of the spreadsheet for all of five minutes, and into different set of sheets, I’d take one for the team,” she says with a wink. “Stick or no stick, boss man is hot.”
I consider his single status for a moment. “You’d think he’d have a harem of women.”
She sits back in her chair and shakes her head. “For as long as I’ve worked here I’ve not seen him with anyone,” Destiny says.
“Why is that?”
“Rumor had it he was engaged once. I have no idea what happened though.” She shrugs and takes a drink of champagne. “Maybe she cheated on him and he’s all dark and jaded now.”
“You read too many romance novels,” I say and roll my eyes. But maybe she’s on to something. Maybe he buries himself in his work because some girl hurt him, betrayed his trust. To me trust is everything. Without it what do you have? The thought of someone deceiving him like that makes me a little sad. Then again, there is that old saying: it’s better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all. I fall in to the latter. I’ve dated, sure, but for the last four years I had my head buried the books, graduating top of my class so I could get a good paying job.
“And you don’t read enough romance,” she shoots back. “You could learn a thing or two from the books I read.”
Yeah, I’m boring and vanilla, I know. And she’s right, I do need to have some fun once in awhile, before I turn into a little old lady with a dozen cats—at the ripe old age of twenty three. “Why do you think he has a no fraternizing rule, anyway?” I ask.
“Maybe he figures if the relationship sours, it will affect the workplace, make it a less happy environment.”
“Less happy?” We both laugh at that, and Destiny salutes me.
“You’re right,” she says. “We all walk around like obedient soldiers under our droid’s command.
“Oh no,” I say and swallow the rest of my champagne as I shift in my seat and try to hide myself behind Destiny.
“What?” she asks, her blonde curls bobbing around her shoulder as she glances around, searching for the source of my distress.
“It’s Jeremy,” I whisper. “He’s coming our way.” I glance up and catch the teams newest junior accountant weaving his way though the crowd, his eyes darting around, no doubt seeking me out. “Someone needs to remind him of the no fraternizing rule.”
“Go get us more champagne,” Destiny says, giving my leg a little shove. “I’ll send him on a wild goose chase looking for you.”
“Don’t be mean,” I warn.
“You’re far too nice, Eden. Go. I’ll get rid of him.”
I slip from the chair and move through the crowd, a little lightheaded from the two drinks I’d already had. I probably shouldn’t have too many more. I don’t expect I’ll ever find myself dancing on one of the tables, but alcohol does make me chatty, and well, less inhibited. Two things I don’t want to be at this party.
Or maybe I do.
I get our drinks and stay at the bar a moment longer as Destiny points to the doors leading to the stairwell. Jeremy takes off, and I feel a little guilty as I make my way toward my friend. I don’t want to hurt Jeremy’s feelings, but every time I’m nice to him, it seems to encourage him more.
I hand Destiny her drink, as the kids grow antsier. Worry gnaws at me. Where the heck is Santa? This party was my idea. I was the one who convinced Kellan we needed it for morale, and he finally—reluctantly— agreed. A few of the staff decorated while I spent the day buying and wrapping gifts for the kids. If Santa is a no show, and that reflects negatively on Sugar Bites, I’m sure Kellan will have my ass—and not in the way I’ve always fantasize.
Stop it.
Near the copier room, I catch a glimpse of red and a second later Santa’s loud Ho Ho Ho reverberates through the room. Relief washes through me, and I take a big sip of my champagne, happy my plan has come together, and my ass isn’t on the line.
Santa takes a seat in his big comfy chair. I angle my head, take in the way he moves. There is something very familiar about him but in my current buzzed state
, I can’t quite figure it out. As I mull that over, I sip my champagne. The kids all line up for their turn, blocking Santa from my line of sight. By the time eight rolls around, the line has dwindled and most of the parents are bundling up their kids and heading to the exit.
The overhead florescent lights dims, and the bulbs that had been stung around the ceiling earlier this morning flicker on, changing both the lighting and the mood in the room.
“Time for the adults to play,” Destiny says. The DJ I hired switches the music from Alvin and the Chipmunks to Bing Crosby’s I’ll be home for Christmas. Destiny nudges me. “Go on. Go sit on Santa’s lap and tell him to bring you a man for Christmas, or better yet, have a little fun with the big guy himself. He looks like he could be hot under all that red velvet.”
“No. Not in a million years.”
She gestures with her chin. “Fine then. Stay here and hang out with Jeremy. He’s on his way over, and I believe he has mistletoe.”
I brace my hands on the table. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wish I was. Now go, he’ll never think to look for you on Santa’s lap.”
I jump from my chair, and grab the edge of the table to balance myself. “No more champagne for me,” I say as I glance at Santa. He’s shifting restlessly in his chair, like he can’t wait to get out of his suit.
Truthfully, I can’t believe what I’m about to do, but if I want to escape Jeremy without hiding out in some nearby closet for the rest of the night, what choice do I have? Here goes nothing.
“Jingle all the way,” I say to Destiny.
“All the way, girlfriend.” She winks. “Because no one likes a half ass jingler.”
