Page 81 of Santa's Baby

“How about you? Would you whisk me away for a trip in the sun? You wouldn’t have to pay for it. Winner.”

The idea of relaxing in the sun with this goddess gives me a pang. I haven’t taken a proper vacation since Jeanette. Breaks with my ‘friends’ involving whisky and business chatter, yes. A true holiday, no.

I have nobody to share one with.

Had.

Ihadnobody to share one with.

“I’d gladly whisk you away for a trip in the sun, as long as your calendar would allow it.”

“Hmm. In that case, I guess we need to book some shared leave.”

The thought of her resuming her client bookings makes me feel sick to the stomach. I don’t want anyone else to touch the treasure.Least of all my founder friends with all their filthy plans.It’s on the horizon and I know it. The founders’ thread has been blaring on in the background without my input, and I know fresh proposals have been landing in Tiffany’s inbox almost constantly.

“After Christmas,” I say. “Keep your calendar free for a while when your proposals allow it, and we’ll go away?”

She stiffens in my arms, and her tension terrifies me.

“Sure, yeah. I’ll leave some bookings free. No problemo.” With that, she rolls away, planting a kiss on my shoulder on the way. “I need a pee.”

That was Creamgirl talking and not Tiffany. I know it.

I follow her to the ensuite, adoring the sight of her naked body as she drops herself onto the seat. But I don’t have a hard-on. I’m not out to fuck her senseless as I stand in the doorway.

“What?” I ask her. “What triggered that?”

“Triggered what?”

Yes, that’s definitely Creamgirl’s tone.

She spreads her legs as she starts pissing. “Want some playtime, or do you need to gallop off to the grotto?”

“Come on, Tiffany. Don’t deflect the question with your pussy.”

Her eyes flare at me, walls up high.

“I’m not triggered by anything. I’m cool.”

“Did I say something to upset you?”

She gives me a Creamgirl cackle. “No, of course not. You just offered me a yacht trip, I should be giving you a high five, not crying in a bathroom.”

I note the wordshould, but I don’t push it.Shouldbe giving me a high five, not crying in a bathroom.

Crying.

She wipes her pussy and flushes the toilet. Her naked body looks incredible under the harshness of the bathroom lights. I love how her tits jiggle as she washes her hands.

Unfortunately, the grotto opens at ten, so I ease back on pushing her.

“What are you going to do today?” I ask. “Put your feet up, watch some TV? There’s practically a cinema downstairs.”

She shrugs. “Sure. I’ll find something to do. Always something to scroll through on social media, or who knows? I might even grab a book.” She gives me a smirk. “Don’t worry though,Santa, I’ll be ready to empty your sack when you get back home.”

The sparkle in her eyes would normally fill me with lust, but for some reason it grates at me this morning. I don’tneedmysack emptyingevery minute of the day. I might enjoy it, but I don’tneedit.

I guess it’s me who’s beentriggeredas I give a ‘great stuff’ and walk away.