The Kringle Girls - Collection (6 page)

Santa Claus is real.
It was hard to wrap his
head around.

His daughter is smoking hot.
Okay, that one
wasn’t so tough. There was something about her unflappable professionalism that
made him wonder what it would take to ruffle her feathers. He wanted to find
out, maybe by laying her back on the desk to unbutton her neat little suit and
explore the delicate curves below. She wasn’t voluptuous, just exquisitely
feminine, and though she was almost polite to a fault, and did her best to stay
just this side of chilly – intimidating as hell to most of the office – Rafe
had seen glimpses of her softer side. The guys called her “Snow Princess”
behind her back, and Rafe had a feeling that she would melt just as sweetly on
his tongue.

The usual frustration roiled through his stomach, and
Rafe took a sip of his drink, hoping the icy rum and cream would soothe his
restless libido. Acknowledging to himself that he wanted to screw Santa’s
daughter blind had taken about forty-five seconds. Dealing with the knowledge
had taken the better part of the year, and he still wasn’t sure how to proceed.
How did one start up a casual fling with a woman whose family was the symbol
for everything good and pure in the world? After months of considering the problem,
Rafe had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t possible – Ivy Kringle was too
good for a casual fling, but Rafe knew he couldn’t just let her pass him by.

And that’s a disaster.

It wasn’t that they had nothing in common – they were
both workaholics, fiercely devoted to their jobs and their employees. They both
liked good scotch, old books, and travel. It wasn’t that she was a magical
creature while he was human – every couple had a few issues to overcome. It
wasn’t even that he was opposed to a real relationship. After years of
meaningless dalliances with social climbers and golddiggers who were only
interested in his stock portfolio, Rafe was ready for something a little more
meaningful with someone smart, beautiful, and unafraid to speak her mind.

No, the problem was that every time Rafe thought about
finally getting his hands on Ivy’s creamy flesh, of baring her secret places to
his hungry gaze and the heat of his mouth, it was inevitably followed by the
thought of how her sweet, curvy ass would blush under the weight of his hand.
He wanted to spank her until she was begging to come. He wanted to tie her
hands and tease her nipples until she asked, oh so prettily, to suck his cock.
He wanted to take her from behind, against a wall, on the desk, and make her
scream his name with his tongue buried in her pussy. Rafe liked control, and
more than anything he’d ever wanted before, he wanted to control Ivy’s
pleasure, to take her so far that she would never again think of another man.
He didn’t want to run her life, but when it came to sex, he wanted her to trust
him to take care of her, to bring them both to heights of pleasure that would
change them forever.

And that was the problem.

Because she was Santa’s daughter.

An image of a Ivy wearing nothing but a Santa hat,
boots, and jingle bell nipple clamps sent his imagination soaring. He’d bend
her over the desk and spread those long,
long
legs before stretching her
wet little pussy with a thick vibrator to prepare her for his dick. Rafe
imagined the breathless noises she would make as he fucked her with the toy,
the little bells tinkling with every thrust. A rush of heat to his groin pulled
him back to reality.

God,
she was going to drive him insane, simply
by existing. He was a dominant, sexual man, and she was demure, classy, and
pure Christmas magic. Rafe was sure she’d be shocked by all of the hot, kinky,
delightfully dirty things he’d dreamed of doing to every inch of her delectable
body.

He adjusted his suit jacket to hide his erection,
grateful that half the office would be too drunk to notice in any case. Eyes
narrowing, he scanned the room in search of Ivy’s familiar fall of platinum
blond hair.

Where the hell was she?

IVY KRINGLE TOYED WITH the glittery green hem of her
cocktail dress, idly dangling one stiletto on her toe as she perched on the
edge of her desk, going over the press release for tomorrow morning – a
Christmas Day statement from the North Pole wishing everyone a peaceful and
joyous holiday. Santa and the reindeer would spend the day napping after the
night’s long trip, and would stay out of sight until the Christmas Night feast.
The Kringle Works office would be silent and dark until after New Year’s,
though Ivy knew her younger sister Merry would probably have the elves back at
work bright and early the day after Christmas. Giving Merry the responsibility
of managing the elves had turned out to be a great idea – the most timid of
Santa’s daughters, Merry somehow had no trouble talking to elves, though humans
still gave her some trouble. Ivy would join them for the feast tomorrow.

Ivy sighed. It would be nice to spend time at home, to
relax and be herself. She loved her work, and she loved living among the humans
in a big city, but sometimes the cool and professional face she put forward to
the world felt a little confining. She wanted a chance to let go. She wanted
someone to see beyond her status as Santa’s proper daughter and a symbol of her
family’s good name, and see the woman beneath. Maybe someone tall, dark, and
handsome, with brown eyes so light they were practically amber, and strong,
elegant hands.

Stop it.

Thinking about Rafe Allen was going to get her
nowhere. He was a sophisticated, experienced man, and though he clearly admired
her, she could just imagine the horror on his face when he found out exactly
how inexperienced she really was. Ivy and her sisters had spent most of their
teenage years commiserating over the lack of cute boys at the North Pole, but
when they were finally old enough to make their own choices, they’d all taken
distinctly different paths. Holly lived in the human world and dated
occasionally. Merry went to the other extreme and avoided all human contact.
Noelle was the family’s wild child, and Ivy was sure their mother would be
horrified to hear about some of the sexual exploits her sister related to her
siblings. Of course, ever since Dad had set her up as reindeer keeper at the
ranch, Noelle’s flings had been severely curtailed.

Ivy had never been wild. Though she’d never admit it
out loud, men made her nervous. She hid the nerves behind propriety and smiling
good manners. The few times she’d finally relaxed enough to let a man close,
the weight of her family’s trust in her and the responsibility of presenting
their good name to the world made her pull away after a few kisses and a little
light petting. Not that any of them were ever more demanding – apparently being
faced with a Kringle daughter put even full-grown men on their best behavior,
which was all well and good, but sometimes a girl just needed…
more.

Hard hands pushing her thighs apart, the rasp of
stubble against her sensitive breasts, and hot inches of hard flesh filling her
up as a warm, muscled body moved against her, and pure sex gleamed in those
pussy-melting whiskey eyes.

And…we’re back to Rafe again.

He’d never been anything but polite to her, but
somehow she
knew
that under his fine suit lay a sexually demanding man
that could indulge every last one of the naughty fantasies she’d crafted for
herself despite her lack of experience. She wouldn’t have to know a thing,
because in her wicked imagination, he’d explain to her in excruciating detail
precisely what he wanted to do to her, and what he’d like her to do to him.
Oh
yes.

The thought was such a pleasant one that Ivy’s
thoughts drifted from the press release to focus on the image of Rafe
slowly
unzipping her dress and kissing a shivery path down her spine as he informed
her of all the delicious ways she was going to give him pleasure once he
finished stripping her with those big hands. Her clit throbbed in approval.

“Thinking naughty thoughts, Miss Kringle?”

The smooth baritone had her dropping the press
release, which fluttered to the ground as Rafe stepped inside, swirling a glass
of eggnog.

“Sorry?”

“You were smiling at something.”

“Oh. It’s just…It was nothing, really…” Ivy hopped
down to retrieve the fallen page, taking advantage of the moment to will her
blush away. She knew he’d caught it – that arched eyebrow had raised another
inch.

“What does it take to make the cool and lovely Miss
Kringle blush?” Rafe asked softly.

Ivy considered him, uncertain.

“You’re in a strange mood tonight. What did they put
in that eggnog?”

“There’s a reason they call it liquid courage, you
know.”

Ivy tried not to notice as he stepped closer, his eyes
sweeping over her in obvious approval.

“I like the snowflakes.” The pattern was subtle, but
when she moved, hints of blue snow swirls danced amid the green.

“I thought I’d try to live up to my nickname,” Ivy
laughed at the look on Rafe’s face, and forced herself not to tug the short hem
down another inch, “You think I don’t know they call me the ‘Snow Princess?’”

Rafe frowned.

“They shouldn’t do that. It’s disrespectful.”

Ivy shrugged, “Maybe when it’s Stans or Aubern, but
for most of them it’s affectionate. Remember, my father has been bringing most
of them toys on Christmas Eve their entire lives. If they want to think of me
as some strange magical fairy creature, they’re not that far off.”

“I don’t like it. I’m going to speak to them.”

“Please, don’t.”

Impulsively, Ivy placed a hand on his arm, and
suddenly, the banked admiration in his eyes roared into flaming hunger that
sucked all the air out of the room. She snatched her hand back.

Oh dear God,
she thought,
Rafe
wants
me.

Completely panicked, she put the width of the desk
between them.

He never wanted me before.
Or maybe he did, but
he’d never let her see it.

Why now?
Maybe because it was Christmas Eve and
the whole office was celebrating. Maybe because the alcohol had loosened his
tight grip on his control. And Ivy didn’t need a jot of experience to know that
Rafe liked control – it was evident from every move he made, from the way he
dealt with clients to the way he ordered his coffee. If she didn’t know better,
she’d assume he was prescient or magical himself – he decided how things would
go, and that was precisely the way they went. The few times he came up against
a situation he couldn’t control, heads rolled and mountains toppled. It was a
good way to keep your employees on their toes.

It was a good way to keep a girl wary of getting
too close, lest she lose her head. Or her panties.

Ivy wondered what it would take to make him just let
go and give in to the urges she saw burning in his eyes. She wondered, after he
fucked her the way she’d been dreaming of, taught her everything she needed to
know to please him and herself with that incredible body he hid under
finely-tailored suits, whether she’d be brave enough to ask him to do a few of
the wicked things she’d always been curious about. She had a long list, because
Kringles
loved
lists.

 
She wondered if she might be losing her mind.

“Everything okay?” Rafe’s voice was soft and deep.

“Fine, I just have a few things to finish up.”

“Leave it. There’s a party out there. Didn’t you
notice?”

He rounded the desk, and she was trapped. Ivy tried
not to freeze as he stepped close and reached into a pocket, pulling out a
little box.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Kringle.”

“Oh,” Her insides melted a little, “I didn’t get you
anything.”

Ivy squelched the shiver that raced through her as his
eyes slid downward to briefly caress her figure. There was nothing indecent
about her dress – a fitted but not too tight bodice held up by tiny straps, it
flared out into a fluttery skirt that glittered when she walked. It was a
little short by conservative standards, but nowhere near what a person could
consider provocative. Under Rafe’s hot gaze, Ivy thought she’d feel more
covered up in a g-string and tassels.

“No need. But if you must, there’s time. I’m sure
you’ll think of something,” he reassured her.

The old question drifted through her head –
What do
you get the man who has everything?
Ivy’s mouth watered at the thought of
dropping to her knees and giving him a present he’d never forget, but reality
poked her unforgivingly – aside from the fact that she’d never tried that and
would probably do some damage to a very sensitive part of his body, Rafe most
assuredly had some silicone-enhanced supermodel waiting in the wings, dying to
pleasure him. This new attraction to her was novel, but Ivy didn’t kid herself
– he was way out of her league. The thought was annoying, and Ivy knew her
smile was a little strained as she took the box.

However, when she opened it, she couldn’t help the
warmth that flooded her.

What a sweet man…

SWEET FUCKING HELL.
If she kept smiling at him
like that, Rafe was going to do something stupid, like kiss her. Everywhere.
But when she opened the little velvet box, everything cool and reserved in her
face vanished and she fucking
glowed
with pleasure at the simple gift.

“It matches your dress,” he said lamely.

“It’s beautiful. It’s such a stupid girl cliché, but
I’m a sucker for shiny things.”

Ivy lifted the necklace out of the box – a simple trio
of linked diamond snowflakes on a platinum chain.
She hesitated for the
briefest second and then held it out to him.

“Help me?”

Rafe took the bauble from her and Ivy turned around
expectantly, lifting her waist-length white-blond hair out of the way. She
usually kept it neatly pinned back, but tonight it was loose, and smelled
softly of peppermint and cocoa. Rafe briefly closed his eyes as he inhaled her
decadent scent, feeling a little pervy over the juvenile move. He carefully
fixed the clasp around her neck, his fingers brushing the softer than soft skin
at the back of her neck in the process.