Vixen Claws (The Twelve Mates Of Christmas Book 4)

by Sable Sylvan

  Candy cleared out light chairs and tables. She’d deal with rearranging furniture later. Cain opened the Christmas tree bag and grabbed the tree.

  “Hey, Candy, you mind helping me get the trunk in the hole?” asked Cain.

  “The what in the…oh, right,” said Candy, getting on her knees to help slide the Christmas tree’s base into the top of the Christmas tree stand. “Here. I’ll screw it in when it’s in. It looks like the stand’s already wet, real wet. I guess Avery put some water in here earlier. The hole’s pretty wide, so I think that thick tree should fit in. I know we’ll have to screw the trunk in, screw it in tight, so it can barely move an inch.”

  “That’s right, give it a good, hard screw,” said Cain. “You want to take as much of the tree’s length into that hole as you can. Start with the tip. Be gentle. You don’t want to break the tip or any other part of the shaft. I made sure to ‘shave’ the base, make it easier to take its whole length in, but if it’s too prickly, be careful. Wouldn’t want that thick, prickly shaft to hurt you.”

  “Well, not all the way,” said Candy. “Got to leave the last inch or two clear.”

  “That’s right,” said Cain. “Is it in? I’m trying to get it in.”

  “It’s in,” said Candy. “Don’t let go of the trunk yet. I still need to screw it in, hard.”

  “Got it?” asked Cain, looking down at Candy. The woman was working hard to get the tree in the tree stand, but, from his angle, he could see her cleavage. He could tell what color plus-size bra she was wearing. He could tell what color lace was on the outside and what color satin lined the dang thing. He tried to look away, but, her boobs were in the line of sight of the tip of the tree trunk.

  “No, so stop moving it back and forth, or I’m going to get a face full of sap,” said Candy. “I just need to keep a tight grip on it. Ahh…fuck.”

  “You got it?” asked Cain. “That hole feels tight, real tight.”

  “Almost,” said Candy. “It’s almost there…oh, fuck!”

  “What?” asked Cain.

  “I pinched my finger,” said Candy. “Fuck, I’m so close. It’s just so hard, you know?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Cain, who had read the innuendoes in what Candy had said. Apparently, Candy wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Why else would she be using dirty talk to talk about putting a frikkin’ Christmas tree in a tree stand?

  “Okay, one, two, and…we got it,” said Candy. “Whew. I thought we’d never get there.”

  “Cain!” called a voice from the back of the bakery.

  “Thanks for the help, Candy,” said Cain. “I really owe you one.”

  As Cain walked away, Candy wondered just what Cain could ‘owe’ her. He was a bad boy, sure, but could he be like that sugar cookie dough she’d been rolling out before? Could he still be turned into something sweet, just in time for Christmas?

  Chapter Two

  December 4th, 2010

  “Now, remember, this is Krampus’ daily order sheet, and he always comes by around ten in the morning to pick it up,” said Avery, showing Candy the laminated sheet. “I handle billing for this because it’s a recurring order. He’s got a tab running. You can give the order to Krampus or to that boy Cain. If they order anything from the counter, just make it for them, and put the receipt in the drawer that’s patterned like a candy cane. Huh. Candy cane. Like you and that lumberjack, ‘Candy’ and ‘Cain.’ Funny, huh?”

  “Yeah, it’s kinda hilarious,” said Candy. “Okay. I got it. Seems simple enough.”

  “You come up with any ideas for the marketing campaign?” asked Avery.

  “Not yet,” admitted Candy. “I know it should be sexy, but I don’t know how.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Avery. “Just try and come up with an idea soon.”

  “Got it,” said Candy.

  Candy took the order sheet and started filling boxes with pastries. The order was big, real big. Was this all Krampus and Cain ate out on Camp Kringle? It couldn’t have been a very healthy diet. She filled the carafes with the Christmas coffee blend and left them on the back counter, following instructions issued on the bottom of the laminated order sheet.

  Avery handled passing the order over to Krampus and Cain while Candy worked the front counter.

  “You know, that Cain boy is asking where you were,” said Avery.

  “What did you say?” asked Candy.

  “I told him you were busy doing your job, and he should take a leaf out of your book…or a fir needle, as the case may be,” joked Avery. “Get it? Because he works on a Christmas tree farm? Never mind. Why were you hiding up here?”

  “I wasn’t hiding,” said Candy. “We needed extra help out here.”

  “That’s not true,” said Brie. “I told you, I can handle it.”

  “Candy, you shouldn’t lie so close to Christmas,” said Avery, and Candy wasn’t sure if Avery was joking. “You don’t want to get on The Naughty List, now do you?”

  “I love the holidays, but even I know The Naughty List isn’t real,” said Candy.

  “Don’t think that’ll get me to stop asking about you and Cain,” said Avery. “What’s the deal?”

  “I think he’s handsome, but…oh, I don’t know. I always seem to say the wrong thing around him, or at least, I feel like that’s what I do, that I say what’s on my mind, with no filter,” said Candy.

  “That can be a good thing,” said Avery.

  “Not when it means I can’t talk to my frikkin’ Christmas crush,” said Candy.

  “You know, just because he’s handsome on the outside, that doesn’t mean he’s any different than any other man. He’s a shifter, Candy — all beast. Those men want one thing and one thing only — a curvy mate. You have not a dang thing to be worried about. So, are you saying I should go give him your schedule?” asked Avery.

  “You’re going to what?” asked Candy.

  “He’s waiting outside to see if you’ll let him give it to me,” said Avery. “Is my curvy beauty gonna give the beast her calling card or what?”

  “He’s what?” asked Candy. “You mean he wants to see me?”

  “Girl, time is of the essence,” said Avery, clapping between each word. “Now, are you going to let this bored Christmas elf play Christmas matchmaker, or not?”

  “Give him the schedule,” said Candy. “But don’t make me look desperate!”

  Avery walked away with a smile. Candy wondered what the heck Avery meant when she called herself a ‘Christmas elf.’ That had to be a joke, right?

  Candy clocked out. It was finally time to go home. Candy started walking out of the bakery, out to the patio to get some fresh air during her break, when she ended up hitting a wall.

  At least, she’d thought she’d hit a wall. She’d thought somebody had bricked up the door to the patio as a practical joke. She pulled herself back and touched her nose, making sure it wasn’t broken. That’s when she saw the wall wasn’t made of bricks. It was flesh colored. She looked up. She’d hit Cain right in the chest, and, like the day before, he was frikkin’ shirtless.

  Candy couldn’t help but let her jaw drop. Cain looked good in photos, but there were things about him that a picture just couldn’t capture. For one, how thick his abs were. They looked like they were photo edited on covers, and they probably were, but the real set of abs was much more impressive. So were his broad pecs, pecs that were made for billowing white shirts torn open around the chest. His thick arms were every romance heroine’s perfect accessory. Candy wondered what they’d feel like around her body.

  Cain’s scent was intoxicating. He smelled a little sweaty, but he also smelled fresh, like the cold lake. It made sense, given he was coated in a sheet of droplets of lake water, from rowing across the frikkin’ lake. He had a natural musk. It was a distinctly animal smell, a primal smell, and for some reason, it reminded Candy of pine trees and crackling autumn leaves.

  “Sorry,” squeaked Candy.

  “No problem,” said Cain.
“Not a bad way to start out my morning. After all, you’re just the girl I’m looking for.”

  “I am?” Candy asked meekly.

  “I have something for you,” said Cain. “It’s real big. Wild. Uncut. I think you’ll like it. You’ve been begging for it, haven’t you? I know you want it. Hell, girlie, I know you need it.”

  Cain’s mark burned as soon as he said the word ‘Hell.’

  Really? The word ‘Hell’ is banned? asked Cain. It’s a place! It’s where Krampus is from!

  It’s not a Christmassy place, so it’s banned, said Vixen haughtily, pounding his hooves.

  Ugh, you’re such a diva, said Cain.

  You are too. That’s what got you into this mess, and I don’t think it’ll get you out of it, sassed Vixen.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” lied Candy. She knew exactly what Cain was implying. But, she didn’t want to admit she knew it in case there was a 1% chance she was wrong, in case Cain was somehow not talking about his thick cock.

  “Why don’t I show you?” asked Cain. “I can show it to you right now. Would you like that?”

  “Uhm…sure,” said Candy, her cheeks burning red as she prepared to see Cain’s cock for the first time. Her Christmas ‘romance’ was finally starting. Maybe Cain was a brash beast, but apparently, this beast got down to business — fast.

  Cain turned and pulled a package into the bakery.

  “Ta-da,” said Cain. “I brought you a Christmas tree. One of the wild ones, uncut, just the way gals like you like it. Well, of course, I cut it down, but, I didn’t shave the base of the tree or anything. Do you like it?”

  “Oh, you got me a Christmas tree?” asked Candy.

  “Of course I did,” said Cain. “That’s what you were begging for yesterday, wasn’t it?”

  “I did want it,” admitted Candy. “I wanted it bad.”

  “Do you still want it bad?” asked Cain. “It’s all yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

  “I don’t know where to put it,” said Candy.

  “This thick thing belongs to you,” said Cain. “You can put it wherever you want. You can have it in the kitchen. You can have it in the living room. You can even have it in the bedroom if that’s what you’re into.”

  “How am I going to get it home?” asked Candy.

  “I can help you,” said Cain.

  “Aren’t you needed at Camp Kringle, for your…” started Candy.

  “You can say it. ‘For my punishment,’” said Cain. “Let’s just say I got time off for good behavior.”

  “Wait. I just realized something. You rowed all this way just to deliver a Christmas tree to me?” asked Candy. “Why didn’t you just bring it to me tomorrow morning?”

  “Where would you put it?” asked Cain. “Anyway, it would dry out while you were working. It was no trouble. Seriously.”

  “Is this why you asked Avery about my schedule?” asked Candy, walking with Cain toward her house, which was only a few blocks away from the bakery. It was a snowy route, but Candy walked it daily. She enjoyed the fresh air that seemed to be full of Christmas spirit.

  “Yeah. I’m not some sort of stalker,” said Cain. “I just thought you could use a bit of Christmas magic in your life, so I made it my mission to get you a tree.”

  “Thanks for the tree,” said Candy. “I don’t know where I’d get one around here. I’m not exactly a local.”

  “You’re from San Francisco, right?” asked Cain. “That means you just went up to Marin County with an ax and chopped down sequoias and put those up in your house, right?”

  “First off, no, because do I look like I can swing an ax? Second of all, nobody in SF has a house, well, nobody like me. I inherited a condo from my grandma,” said Candy. “She’s the woman who taught me how to bake. Christmas with her was always special. I miss her every Christmas season.”

  “Sorry to bring up sad memories,” said Cain.

  “There’s nothing sad about my memories,” said Candy with a smile. “That’s why I keep them — they bring me tons of joy, especially around the holiday season. Hey, my place is right up here.”

  Candy led Cain to the front door of her rental unit.

  “This is a big place,” said Cain.

  “Believe it or not, it’s Avery’s place,” said Candy. “It’s one of her rental properties. I’m not getting charged anything to stay here, because she appreciates the help during the Christmas season. It’s like I’m getting paid to have my dream Christmas.”

  “You want me to take your coat?” asked Candy, taking off her jacket, before turning back to Cain and looking at his bare chest again. “Oh. Right. Uh. Okay. So, Christmas tree stand, right? Right. Okay. I think it’s…”

  “Why are you so nervous?” asked Cain.

  “I’m not,” lied Candy.

  “Uh-huh,” said Cain, crossing his arms. “I can tell when a woman’s nervous. I can’t tell why you’re nervous, though. You’re an attractive woman, Candy. You’re curvy, sassy, and funny. What do you have to be nervous about?”

  Should I tell him the truth? That I’m nervous because a big hot shifter is with me in my house and I’m afraid I’m going to tear his clothes — err, what’s left of his clothes — off him and have sex with him with reckless abandon? Candy thought to herself. Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

  You’re torturing the girl, said Vixen.

  I know what I’m doing, said Cain.

  I’m not criticizing, just observing, said Vixen. Why do you think they call me ‘Vixen’? I’m no Cupid, kid. I earned this name.

  “Nothing,” admitted Candy. “I guess I’m just, uh, not used to talking to strangers.”

  “Then let’s not be strangers,” said Cain. “Let’s be friends, Candy, really good friends.”

  Candy gulped. Cain had a way of making even the most innocent things sound down-right filthy.

  “Okay, well, how about we do that after we find the tree stand?” asked Candy. “I know Avery left one here. That woman loves Christmas.”

  Candy walked to one of the supply closets. Inside, there were boxes of decorations. On the top of the closet, on a shelf, there was a round tree stand. Candy reached for it. The stand tipped and started to fall toward her head.

  Candy winced. A body came up behind her, a warm, protective frame, and put one hand on her head. The other reached up to grab the tree stand.

  “You have to be careful,” said Cain. “You don’t need to get beheaded just because you’ve got those Marie Antoinette curves the boys go Rococo-co for.”

  “That has to be the lamest pun I’ve ever heard,” groaned Candy, but then, she realized who was holding her. She realized Cain had his hand on her head, protecting her from the tree stand, the other hand, on the big metal thing that could’ve knocked her teeth out. She could feel the warmth emanating off of Cain’s body. Cain hadn’t worn a jacket, so he hadn’t had one to take off. Instead, he’d let the falling snowflakes cover his body, and now, in the heat of Candy’s house, the snowflakes were turning to steam. It was hot steam, a thick mist that Candy could feel rising through her thin blouse and touching her back. The sensation made her arms get covered with goosebumps.

  “You’re cold,” commented Cain.

  “I’m not,” insisted Candy.

  “You are,” said Cain, brushing a hand down Candy’s arm. “You’ve got goosebumps. You must be freezing.”

  Cain put down the Christmas tree stand. Then, he took Candy and pulled her into his arms.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” asked Candy, shuddering underneath Cain’s warm touch.

  “You’re shivering,” said Cain. “I had no idea you were this cold. Let me help you warm up.”

  Cain carried Candy to her couch, where he quickly swaddled her in a throw blanket, his hands brushing over her curves as he took the faux fur blanket and wrapped it around the curvy baker. His cock throbbed in his jeans as he looked at her. She was so cute but so vulnerable. He felt the need to take car
e of her.

  She’s not cold, commented Vixen.

  She’s absolutely cold, she’s shuddering and has goosebumps and is definitely cold, insisted Cain.

  The bad boy doth protest too much, quipped Vixen.

  “Stay here, stay warm,” ordered Cain. “I’ll make you something warm.”

  As Candy watched Cain walk to the kitchen, his muscled back facing her, a glimpse of the word ‘Naughty’ peeking at her from his shoulder, she decided to stop fighting a good thing.

  Cain went to the kitchen and made two cups of hot cocoa and a bowl of soup for Candy. Cain brought the cocoa and soup out to the living room.

  “Careful, it’s hot,” said Cain, raising a spoonful of the soup. Cain blew on the soup to cool it before bringing the tip of the spoon to Candy’s mouth. Candy sipped and took the hot, salty fluid into her mouth.

  “Wow, that’s good,” said Candy. “Old family recipe?”

  “Just found a can in the pantry, chicken noodle, a classic,” said Cain. “Drink up. You need your energy.”

  Cain fed Candy all the soup and made sure she finished her hot chocolate. While Candy drank the hot chocolate, Cain finished setting the Christmas tree up in the living room, using the tree stand they’d found in the closet. Candy got quite a view of the jacked lumberjack. She wondered what he was going to do after he put her tree up her skirt — well, up Avery’s tree skirt. Was he going to take things to the bedroom? Candy imagined his firm arms wrapped around her core and felt a wave of heat run through her body. She didn’t need the soup and cocoa to stay warm when she was around Cain.

  She watched as Cain used his strong arms to set the tree up. Finally, Cain stood up, and Candy couldn’t help but check him out. His chest was so broad and much hairier than it had looked on the romance novel covers. Candy guessed that he must’ve had waxings done for the covers, but she preferred Cain as he was, standing in her room, without any lip gloss on his mouth and without any shiny highlighting glitter on a waxed chest. Candy had never had a thing for lumberjacks, but now, she understood why there just that dang appealing. She wondered what his room was like, back at Camp Kringle, and what he thought about at night when he was all alone. She watched Cain walk to the kitchen, pour himself a glass of water, and chug it.