Night Before Read online

  My eagerness ebbs. “Oh, okay. Well, you don’t need me to go play. If you don’t want the tour you can just go on ahead—”

  “No,” Malcolm interjects. “Let’s start in the play area. We can just sit for a bit until we are ready for the full tour.” He holds his hand out in front of him, urging me forward down the evergreen path toward the play area. “Randall can play. We can talk. Come on,” he grunts, and I tiptoe forward, following Randall as he runs ahead down the gingerbread bricks toward the sound of children laughing and shouting as they frolic and play in the play area.

  My vision is filled with a thousand twinkling lights as I glance over my shoulder to see Malcolm’s enormous form to the side of me. He’s got one arm outstretched behind my back, not touching me—not yet—but I feel where his hand hovers in the air just above my back side. It’s that chivalrous, gentlemanly motion that nearly buckles my knees.

  My vision is drowsy as my eyes fall to the front of his jeans where I see an enormous bulge.

  I draw in a sharp breath and jerk my head back up to face forward, embarrassed by my own forwardness but unable to resist the thought: could his erection be because of me?

  No.

  Do not be a fool, Elf Penny.

  Maybe he’s got some crazy elf kink or something. Because no way a man like him would be interested in a pudgy elf like me. Still, the thought of his enormous erection leaves me speechless and breathless as he guides us toward a table in the back of the sitting area that surrounds where Randall is already playing happily with another couple of boys about his own age.

  “Sit,” Malcolm orders and his bossy tone causes a shiver of delight wrestling through me. It feels as if my bones are liquefying as I melt into the chair and wait for whatever comes next.

  “Sitting,” I manage as he takes a seat in front of me. The same sort of position as yesterday, only this time he’s closer. His legs spread around as my knees nearly bump into his crotch. I do everything in my power to avert my eyes from the fullness there, but at the same time as he sits, he lets out an uncomfortable chuff in his throat, and I can only imagine it must be difficult to bend something that hard and long.

  Heat rises up my legs where they connect to his. The same heartbeat that is deafening in my ears is also wildly distracting as it thumps between my legs. My mouth is watering as well and I lick my lips as I try to make sense of what’s happening right now.

  Malcolm sits quietly. There’s a vibration growing in the empty space between us and my heart is thundering in my chest.

  “What do you want to talk about?” I blurt out, unable to stand the silence another moment.

  He bites into his bottom lip. Dark eyes fasten to me. “Fuck.” He bows his head then looks up at the ceiling, then back to me.

  My belly tightens. The muscles in my neck feel like metal cords ready to snap.

  “What?” I lean in, compelled—even though he’s a near stranger—to relieve him of whatever the strain is I hear in his voice. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I want to know.”

  “Penny.” He looks at me and I see the tangle of conflict in his eyes. “Just promise me, I won’t scare the shit out of you.”

  I raise my eyebrows, wondering what it could be, but still deep in my heart wanting to know.

  “Okay. I promise. As long as it doesn’t involve you decapitating me, dismembering me, or any other sort of felonious thing regarding me.”

  A strained chuckle rumbles from him, and a genuine smile spreads up into his eyes. Then he nods before he continues. “My nephew didn’t even want to come here today.”

  “Really?” I blink, wondering what’s coming next. Because I can feel most definitely something is coming next.

  “Really. I wanted to come. To see you.”

  I sit, silent, as he tightens his legs around mine and sends my nipples into points yet again.

  He raises a hand to brush down where my hair rests against the side of my face, raising goosebumps all over my skin.

  “That’s not completely true,” he adds. “The truth is, I came here to kiss you. Because that’s all I’ve thought about. Are you ready for that?”

  He bends forward, his nose brushing the upturned brim of my hat and his lips ever so lightly coming to rest on my forehead before he forms them into a kiss and pulls back, this time lowering his face so our mouths are inches from one another.

  Flames lick at my cheeks. The tops of my ears are on fire and moisture drenches my red panties.

  My voice squeezes out in a whisper. “What if I say no?” My senses bounce around inside my brain, unable to decipher what’s going on. He has me, body and soul, and I’m not sure why I answered his question with one of my own, but this is all so surreal I’m not sure what else to say.

  “Well, no is no. I’m a gentleman and I’ll always respect that word. Are you saying no?” The anxiousness that washes over his features has words caught in my throat.

  “No,” I mutter, then stutter as I see disappointment darken his eyes. “No, I mean...no, I’m not saying ‘no.’” My face is on fire as I shake my head and his hands come to cover mine in my lap.

  “If I had my way, these wouldn’t be the only lips I’d be kissing today.” His voice penetrates my lady bits as his lips crash onto mine.

  A shallow whimper catches in my throat as our mouths connect. At first his lips are soft, full and unmoving. The moment seems to stretch on and on, and my head starts to spin. The noise of the Village evaporates and the only thing left in its place is the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

  When his tongue enters my mouth, I go boneless. As if on instinct, his hands leave mine, graze up my back and pull me into him. His tongue is full and warm, seeking out mine, and I pray I’m not making an utter fool of myself.

  The only other French kiss I’ve ever had was with Tommy Tomlinson at a birthday party in my sophomore year, playing some stupid kissing game in his basement. I don’t remember much about that, but what I do remember is that it had felt nothing like this.

  This kiss feels like it’s taking me away from here. Taking me into another time and place. Like that movie with Christopher Reeves. I’m transported by a longing and desire I didn’t know existed within me.

  Our kiss grows in intensity. His hands sweep to the back of my neck, holding me tight and steady against him. Dampness weeps into my underwear and for the first time in my life, I imagine making love to someone. No, not someone. Him. How it would feel to have him enter me. To feel so full of him.

  My fantasy takes flight as his mouth claims me completely. Our tongues lash and spin, like some sort of Christmas dance. He tastes like fresh peppermint and lust, and when I hear the pained groan come from within him, I nearly topple over the edge into an orgasm just from knowing I’m causing this man to feel what I’m feeling.

  When we finally break for air, his hands lower to my shoulders. Then slowly they trace down my arms, leaving me trembling as he takes my hands into his again. They are massive and warm, and I feel safe even with this near stranger.

  As soon as my head clears, I blurt out. “Who are you?”

  He smiles, the flash of white teeth as sexy as every other part of him. “You mean, existentially or practically?”

  I narrow my eyes and try to decide if he’s playing with me before answering.

  “I mean...” I clench my thighs together to quell the still-growing cascade of arousal between them. “What’s your name, for starters? Who are you? It’s not every day...or ever...that I just kiss someone like that, and I don’t even know anything about you.”

  He blinks twice before answering. “Malcolm Foster. I’m nobody. Just a guy. I work in retail. Nothing special, Penny Evergreen. Just a guy.”

  “Well, Just a Guy...” I look around to make sure none of my co-workers are witnessing what’s going on. After all, I’m pretty sure it would be reason for dismissal from Elf-dom. “If I kiss you again and I get caught, I’ll get fired.”

  He snorts a laugh. “You won’t ge
t fired.” There’s far more sureness in his tone than seems appropriate, but I don’t read a hint of doubt in his face.

  A smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. “Okay...well, you may not think so, but the Elf Code I signed when I hired on is pretty clear about the code of conduct. And French kissing in the Candy Cane Café, well, I’m pretty sure it would break the rules.”

  His hands squeeze mine as he smiles again. His dark eyes are captivating, and the way his eyebrows crook as I stare back only adds to his sex appeal. I’m pretty sure he’s technically old enough to be my father, but maybe I finally understand why I’ve never really found any boys interesting, or ever had much interest in dating.

  Boys. Pfft.

  It’s a man I want.

  And Malcolm Foster is all man.

  Randall comes running up, out of breath.

  “Okay. Can we go? Mom said I only had to stay for a little while so you could talk to the cute elf lady. So, you talked. And you kissed.” He screws up his face in offense. “Eww. So can we go?”

  Malcolm takes a deep breath and sits up in his chair, giving Randall the evil eye. “Santa’s watching you, you know.” He narrows those near black eyes at his nephew, but I see the glow behind them.

  “Shut up. Santa’s not real.” Randall comes back as he scratches his head in annoyance.

  “What?” I stand, hands flying to cover my mouth, genuinely aghast for a moment before I lower them to fist at my hips. “Santa is most certainly real. As real as you and I are standing here right now.”

  Randall squints an eye my way, trying to decide if I’m for real as he crosses his arms over his chest, distinctly unimpressed.

  “I’m going to tell you a secret.” I crouch down so I’m eye to eye with him. “When I was little, I only got one present every Christmas. But, even without presents, I knew Santa was real. Then, when I got older, my family...well, they didn’t even put up a tree. Didn’t even celebrate Christmas. But, still, I knew Santa was real. How did I know?”

  He shakes his head, then answers. “Because you’re an elf and elves are legally bound to believe in Santa?”

  “The gift of sarcasm,” Malcolm interjects from behind me. “Sorry, it’s in the DNA, I’m afraid.”

  I’m undeterred.

  “No, because I’ve seen him. I’ve seen him on street corners. I’ve seen him in homes, just not mine. I’ve seen him delivering packages in snow storms. I’ve seen him. I know. So, don’t be so quick to dismiss if he’s real. I’m older than you. I’m also smart. And I know. Santa is real.”

  Randall considers me for a moment before looking back at Malcolm. “Can we go? Please?” He adds with more softness than before.

  “Yep. You’ve done your civic duty.” Malcolm reaches over to rest a hand on top of Randall’s head. “Go over there by the gingerbread house and I’ll be right there.”

  With that, Randall’s off at a run and Malcolm turns back to me.

  “So, my secret is out.”

  “Yep.” The rush of adrenaline courses through me, knowing he came back here today to see me.

  Me.

  Wow.

  “Listen, I have to go out of town for a week. And, truth is, I almost cancelled the trip. But it’s business and I have obligations I have to meet. But, here’s the thing, I need your phone number before I go.”

  It’s not a question and that hint of bossiness surprisingly has an immediate connection to my nipples. I quickly cross my arms as the points press out onto the red velvet of my chest yet again.

  He holds his phone in front of him, waiting for my reply without a hint of doubt that his request will be granted.

  “Well, just a guy named Malcolm. Against my better judgment, I’ll give you my number.” I rub my upper arms with my hands as I read it off to him from memory and he punches the numbers into his phone.

  “I’ll text you, so you will know it’s me. I’ll send you something so you will be sure.”

  I bob my eyebrows, then narrow my eyes playfully. “Okay. But if you send me a picture of your secret Santa...”

  He bursts out laughing before I can finish.

  “Trust me. When you see that, it will be in person and up close, Penny Evergreen. But, if you get the urge to send me a picture of your sugar plums, I can’t be responsible for the effect it will have on my secret Santa.”

  With that, he leans down, kisses my forehead and steps away, leaving me thinking being on the naughty list may not be such a bad thing.

  C H A P T E R S E V E N

  Malcolm

  Me: Are you still in your elf costume?

  Penny: Yep. Just walking in the door. It’s snowing! I’m so happy, I got off the subway eight blocks early just so I could walk the rest of the way in the snow!

  Me: Are you warm enough though? Did you have boots on?

  Penny: LOL I’m warm, I have a coat! And, yes, boots too. :)

  Me: Okay, because that elf costume isn’t nearly enough to keep you warm. And those elf shoes, they’re cute, but not good for walking and definitely not in the snow. You need to keep warm, okay?

  Penny: Boy, in a couple days you’ve sure become awfully protective. And a little bossy.

  Me: Yep. Can’t help it. You saying you don’t like it?

  I WAIT FOR HER REPLY. Truth is, I wait for every reply. Sitting here in the California sun, I should be thankful to be away from the New York cold, but I’m not. For the first time in my life, I miss the thought of New York at Christmas. I can’t wait to get back and take whatever this is between us to the next level.

  What the hell is happening to me? My image will be ruined.

  When my phone dings with her reply, my dick hardens.

  Penny: I like it. Probably more than I should.

  Me: That’s my girl.

  ‘My girl.’

  That’s the first time I’ve used that phrase with her, but it feels perfect. And so odd. This whole thing with Penny has me a bit off my game, but for the first time in my life I’m throwing logic aside and letting something other than my brain call the shots.

  Penny: I like that.

  My hand fists the base of my cock, trying to hold off the eruption of cum threatening to explode all over my desk. I’m sitting in the massive suite that I’m settled into here in L.A. for the next four days, and all I can think about is her.

  I daydream about her getting dressed in that sexy as fuck costume after I’ve pounded into her for a couple hours. I think of her walking around that Christmas Village, my cum dripping out of her cunt and soaking those striped tights she wears.

  Yep, it’s sick, I know it.

  But it’s got me so fucking hot and hard, one more movement of my hand and I’m done.

  Texting with one hand isn’t easy, but over the last few days, I’ve become quite adept. I can’t seem to hold back my newly awakened dick whenever I text or talk on the phone with her.

  Penny: Okay, did I lose you? I need to hop in the shower. And didn’t you say you had a meeting to go to? I guess retail business is crazy this time of year.

  Me: I’m right here. Send me a picture before you go. I should have left here ten minutes ago, but I’m not going anywhere until I see your face.

  A few second later, her message pops up. Her smiling face, her fingers under her chin and her ice-blue eyes sparkle like the tree in Rockefeller center.

  That’s all it takes. My body shudders as my climax erupts. Jets of cum spray out of my dick, dripping down my shaft and over my knuckles. White light takes my vision as I spasm in pure bliss at the sight of her face.

  When I recover, just for a split second, I wonder what the fuck is going to happen to me when I get an actual taste of her... If this is the effect she has on me by just sending an innocent snap of her face, what the hell is going to happen when I get her under me?

  When.

  Not if.

  That ship has sailed. Along with whoever Malcolm Knight was just a few days ago.

  Penny: There you go! Haha, looks si
lly, I know. LOL

  Me: Thank you, sweet girl. Not silly at all. It looks beautiful. You made my day. Now, go take your shower. Stay warm. I’ll check in later to be sure you are tucked in.

  Penny: xoxox

  TWO DAYS LATER, MY meetings with the bank and some key investors are going well. Our expansion is on track to push Knight & Knight into some key territories in Europe. But for the first time in my life, the company and the bottom line are not at the forefront of my mind.

  Penny is taking over my every thought. Our text conversations have grown warmer. Our phone conversations have lasted long into the night. And last night, things took a turn.

  As her voice grew sleepy, my thoughts of her laying in bed raged inside me. Before I could stop myself, I was telling her all the things I wanted to do to her. Well, not all of them, because some of my thoughts are depraved and I don’t want to scare her off.

  I started by telling her how my tongue would trace down her neck. Then how I imagined the flavor of each nipple. How they would harden as I sucked on them each in turn.

  I told her to get under the covers naked, to put her hand between her legs, to take her finger and find her clit. To circle it, pretending her finger was my tongue.

  It went on from there until I heard the sweetest sound in the world. The sound of her unbridled pleasure.

  Fuck.

  I came in my pants harder than I’ve ever come before.

  Just from the sound.

  Then, because I had to know for sure, the conversation turned. The possessive parts of me, the animal parts, wouldn’t be satisfied unless I found out. Thoughts of anyone else touching her—ever touching her—were driving me crazy. I asked if her pussy was bare. She told me it was, and I nearly lost it thinking she’d done that to please someone before me.

  My further questions revealed my innermost desires. Not only had she shaved herself only because she liked how it felt, she also told me no one had ever touched her before. No one.