Blythe
I’d felt arousal for the first time in my life when I spotted him across the room.
Logan Marsh was a big, burly man, towering over everyone and everything, his size almost inhuman, his masculinity having me keenly aware I was very much female.
And he watched me… God, he watched me like there was nothing else in the world that fascinated him but me.
We’d been thrown together for the holidays, him playing Santa and me Mrs. Claus. It was a professional relationship that turned out to be anything but. And my inexperience should have had me frightened by the way he looked at me… like he imagined me naked and spread eagle just for him.
But instead of running, which would have been the smart move, I found myself wanting all of it. With him.
Logan
The world tilted under my feet the moment I saw her. This tiny little thing who was half my size but called out to every protective, possessive instinct in my body.
She was the woman I'd been waiting for, and there was no deviating from my path to claim her.
Blythe was so very female to everything in me that was male, and I wanted to memorize every inch of her body with my hands, lips, and tongue.
Whatever primal need rode me, it did it hard and without apology. I’d probably frighten Blythe with my need for her, but better she found out now what kind of man I was when it concerned something I wanted.
And I’d never wanted anything as much as her.
1
Blythe
I was already regretting agreeing to this, but when my sister asked me for a last-minute favor, there wasn’t a no in my vocabulary, not when she rarely asked me for anything.
And as I glanced at my older sister, Wellsie, who looked like a drill instructor right in the thick of training, I couldn’t help but shake my head, a smirk on my face.
“Hannah, I need a lot more tinsel over Santa’s throne, please. Yeah... that’s perfect.” My sister pointed to the area she was referring to, and Hannah tossed more of the silvery shit all over the place. “Perfect.” My sister grinned in approval. “And Martin, can you add more of that fake snow around the North Pole and throne?” Despite her business-like tone, everyone loved Wellsie, and you could see what a great time they were having.
Everyone loved my older sister, but how could they not? She’d give the shirt off her back if you needed it, and everyone knew it.
I tuned everything out as I leaned back against the makeshift “Santa’s little helpers” workstation and just took in the scene. Morton’s Department Store was right in the heart of Mistletoe, Montana. Not only was it the go-to place for clothing, home goods, and bedding, but every year it hosted the annual meet Santa event.
Almost all the families came to the event in Mistletoe, but it even attracted visitors from outside city limits. It was a pretty big deal, and Wellsie had been organizing it for the past three years.
I looked over at my sister again and saw that she was in her element. Her long dark hair was piled high on her head in a messy bun, tendrils having fallen out from her messing with it because she’d no doubt been up since the crack of dawn working on this. With just a few days until the grand opening of the event, I knew my sister was extra stressed.
And so when she said she needed favor, as in, she needed me to play Mrs. Claus, because the woman who was supposed to be the character had gotten sick and wasn’t able to do it, I reluctantly agreed.
This wasn’t my scene, not at all, mainly because I was the most socially awkward person imaginable, but I was also an introvert. So being around all those people, just swarms of bodies all around me, gave me anxiety.
I ran my palms up and down my denim-covered thighs and breathed out slowly. We were due to get a snowstorm within the next couple of days, but the weatherman said it possibly might pass over us. I learned over the years not to trust the weatherman. At all. I was sure he couldn’t tell his asshole from his mouth most days.
“Blythe?”
I snapped my head up and glanced around until I saw my sister across the room. She looked at me expectantly before gesturing me over.
After pushing off the workstation and making my way over to her, I dodged decorative balls hanging from the ceiling, but not before one of the plastic monstrosities nailed me in the forehead.
“Dammit,” I muttered and rubbed the spot, stopping in front of Wellsie and glowering.
She was suppressing a laugh and glanced down at her clipboard to act like she had important shit to look over. I didn’t know what she called me over for, but a big part of me assumed it wasn’t anything I’d like very much.
“Molly wants to fit you for the outfit. If you just follow her back to the empty room over there….” She pointed to the room that said EMPLOYEES ONLY. Wellsie looked me up and down, tapping her pen against her lips. “You almost look the same size as Lannie.”
“Costume?” I prompted hesitantly.
“Molly, here she is.” My sister ignored my comment and pointed to where she wanted me to go with said woman. Then she was across the room, helping someone decorate Santa’s throne.
I followed Molly to the back room, the door closing behind us silently. There were a couple of rolling racks placed against the wall, different costumes hanging on them. The one thing they had in common was they were all similar in color scheme. Reds, greens, and whites were slung on the metal bars, some having metallic threads woven in, others with obnoxious holiday-themed decor sewn on like red balls, muffins, Christmas cookies, and candy canes.
She beelined right for the rack and started sliding the hangers over, searching for something specific. And when she pulled it out and I got a look at what I was supposed to wear, my eyes widened and then I grimaced, not even trying to hold it in.
She looked at the outfit and then me, then back at the outfit and me again, her eyes raking me up and down. “You know, I think this might fit you perfectly. We might not have to take anything in, but we’ll see.” She was in front of me a second later and held the costume up to my form.
I looked down, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment. “I’m actually expected to wear this? In front of kids and families?” She glanced up at me and smiled, but it was a little awkward, as if she knew how skimpy this damn thing was.
She shrugged and said, “Yeah, it’s not my idea of ideal, but I have tights for you to wear under it, and everything will be covered… mostly.”
I nearly snorted at that.
“These outfits are outdated for sure. Heck, Santa's outfit has to be from the early nineties. But we don’t have it in the budget for new costumes, not this year at least." She shrugged again. “Maybe next year you’ll get lucky.”
I grimaced, wanting to tell her I wouldn’t be doing this next year because I knew I’d already come down with the flu.
“Go ahead and try it on. You can do that here. Just come out and let me know when you’re finished, and we’ll see if anything needs to be taken in.”
With that, I was left alone, staring at this costume and feeling absolutely ridiculous.
Mrs. Claus never looked so… slutty, had she?
But I could do this to make a kid’s day by handing them a candy cane after they told Kris Kringle what they wanted this year.