Work Text:
[cover photo courtesy of MistressHeroine]
unwrap you with my kiss
“All I’m saying is, I think it would be nice for Judith to have pictures of us all together,” Rick said, “so she could at least pretend like she had parents an’ step-parents who liked each other.”
Lori sighed in aggravation, crossing her arms and staring past Rick, toward the front of the line and the gaggle of kids who were racing one another to be the first in Santa’s lap. “How about we start with just getting along before we try to get into ‘liking each other’ territory?”
Rick shut his mouth and clenched his jaw, clearly swallowing down his frustration.
“Look, man,” Shane interjected, “I’ll pay fer the pictures, if it means so much to ya. I know funds are prob’ly pretty tight fer you guys an’ you can’t afford two different pictures—”
Michonne, cradling her very pregnant belly with one hand, took a half-step closer to Lori’s fiance and cut him off, “You know damn well that’s not the issue here. Quit taking pot-shots just to try and make yourselves look superior.”
Shane put up his hands in surrender. “Hey now, I wouldn’t take pot-shots—”
Hershel finally turned around and said very plainly and with very restrained irritation, “Would y’all mind cuttin’ it out with the bickering and just be mature adults for an hour? We are in public and you two—” he pointed almost accusingly at Rick and Lori “—are s’posed to be co-parenting peacefully. This is my grandson’s first Christmas, and I’ll be damned if you ruin the memory of his first pictures with Santa with yer petty arguments.”
Thankfully, Hershel’s authoritative tone and no-nonsense attitude was enough to shut them up, though it didn’t stop their side-eyes and scowls. Maggie and Beth were pursing their lips and communicating wordlessly with their wide eyes at one another as they kept their backs turned to the bickering couples. On Maggie’s other side, Glenn was completely tuning out the usual turmoil between Rick, Michonne, Lori, and Shane, far too enamored with the 7-month-old Hershel in his arms.
And Beth was starting to think it was a terrible idea to have even suggested this outing to the mall for pictures with Santa in the first place.
About 50 feet up ahead, Daryl sat perched in his North Pole throne, wearing the scratchiest fake white beard he’d ever worn in his life, a big red Santa Claus suit with a fake belly strapped on underneath, and a matching red hat that covered every bit of his real identity. To be fair, if any of these snot-nosed little kids’ parents had any idea that he was actually just a drifting, often unemployed redneck criminal underneath the costume, they’d probably think twice about paying $25 for a picture of their precious children sitting on his lap. Especially since he’d only been “promoted” this week because his predecessor had been caught smoking meth in the bathroom. But hey, a job was a job, and he reckoned they should just be grateful he wasn’t a tweaker like the last guy.
Being a mall Santa wasn’t the worst thing in the world, though. It was steady seasonal work with a decent paycheck and scheduled breaks. And at least it meant having a little more dignity than Merle, who was the designated Head Elf of the week, which meant he was in charge of keeping order in the line and guiding the kids and parents forward to have their photos taken. (He was also supposed to jump in for the photos seeing as the mall couldn’t find a suitable Mrs. Claus to stand beside Santa, but he made a point to step just out of frame most of the time.)
As Merle pushed off another crying toddler into their mother’s arms, Daryl leaned over in his chair and asked quietly, “What time is it?”
“Quarter past two,” Merle muttered back.
“Christ. Next break can’t come soon enough.”
“Hey, ‘least y’ain’t had any’a these little shitheads piss their pants on ya yet.”
Daryl snorted. “Still plenty’a time fer that.”
“Look on the bright side, baby brother,” Merle said, lowering his voice even further as he prepared to beckon the next kid forward, “there’s a lotta kids with smokeshows fer mamas today. Hell, I already got one’s number. Think I might take ‘er out fer drinks tonight an’ get my dick wet.”
“Good luck.” Daryl rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find some ass fer you, too. Already got my eye on a couple’a fine pieces in line.”
Before he could respond, Merle was hurrying forward and unlatching the red velvet rope to let another pair of parents and their two ill-behaved children through.
Fifteen more excruciating minutes passed while Beth waited in line with her family and the Grimes family. It might not have been so bad—she adored being around baby Judith, and Carl was too old to still believe in Santa, but he was being a good sport about it all (or maybe he was just really excited to be around Beth again seeing as his crush had not died down in the recent years and, in fact, had only grown stronger since she’d become his and Judith’s regular babysitter)—but Lori, Shane, and Rick just couldn’t seem to stay cordial for so much as an hour, and Michonne had already given up playing mediator. Beth tried to focus more on baby Hershel and Judith, but the noise of the busy mall, the dozens of screaming and crying children, the long line, and the bickering was quickly becoming irritating.
“You think you still wanna hit a couple of stores before we leave?” Maggie asked. “I gotta pick up a couple more presents for Glenn’s sisters, if you’re wantin’ to help me shop.”
Beth shrugged. “I dunno. I could stick around an’ help you shop, but I think I got all my gifts pretty much sorted.”
“What about Jimmy’s?”
Oh, right. Jimmy. “I guess I could get him something, too.”
“What’s that mean?” Maggie chuckled, eyeing her. “You already losin’ interest in that scrawny little guy? It’s only been three months, Bethy.”
Beth rolled her eyes and avoided the question. “Oh, look—the line’s movin’, we’ll be next after them.” She gestured toward baby Hershel and offered, “You want me to grab a baby wipe an’ clean his nose before we’re up?”
“Oh,” Maggie realized, quickly distracted as she turned her attention to Glenn, “babe, hand him to me, we gotta clean up his face before it’s our turn.”
Merle was plopping down another heavy toddler into Daryl’s lap and urging the little shit to smile and not pull on Santa’s beard when he leaned in and whispered to Daryl, “Jailbait, twelve o’clock. With the Chinaman an’ his baby mama.”
Reflexively, Daryl’s eyes darted over, spotting the petite blonde standing just behind the red velvet rope, accompanied by what could only be her sister and extended family. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen, dressed in tight, dark blue skinny jeans, a black top that was only solid over her breasts and ribs while the sleeves and bottom half were mesh, and a festive necklace of cartoonishly large Christmas lights hanging around her neck. Her golden blonde hair fell just past her shoulders, loosely curled at the ends. She was preoccupied with the baby in her sister’s arms, but then she turned and raised her head and her eyes met his—strikingly blue, sparkling in the artificial fluorescent lighting of the mall. She had dainty hips and thin limbs, though her modest curves were accentuated by the way her clothing hugged her tight little body.
She almost looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. No way he would’ve known her otherwise. She didn’t look old enough to step foot inside any bar he and Merle frequented. Maybe he’d seen her walking around the mall in the last couple of weeks. Couldn’t be more than that.
Regardless, he could’ve swore she flashed him a smile, all perfect pink lips and sparkling white teeth, before his attention was snapped back to the fussing toddler in his lap, and the warmth that had formed in his gut immediately dissipated.
Goddamn, Merle was right. And jailbait was damn near an understatement.
As soon as the kid was off his lap and being ushered away with his parents, Daryl asked quietly, “Now what time is it?”
“Quarter ta three,” Merle replied. “Almost there. Then it’s just five more hours’a this shit.”
Well, Daryl wasn’t only looking forward to being off the clock. He was taking the day one break at a time.
And maybe one piece of hot, jailbait-looking ass at a time, too.
It was finally their turn, and as the rough-looking guy dressed in a festive green elf costume with the elf ears to match was unhooking the red velvet rope and stepping aside to let them through, Beth fully locked eyes with Santa. A tingle ran through her body. There was something familiar about him…
Oh.
No way.
She took a few steps closer, just to be sure. Observing him through the disguise of the fake beard and the red suit and the comically large fake belly. But the striking blue eyes were a dead giveaway.
Just last week, she and Jimmy had been walking around the mall and doing some Christmas shopping, holding hands and sipping on their Orange Julius smoothies. They’d passed by the “North Pole” constructed in the very center of the first floor, stopping for just a moment to watch as kids and their parents had their photos taken with Santa on his big red throne, surrounded by his elves. And just as Jimmy had turned and tugged on her hand to keep her moving, one of the elves turned around and met her gaze. His eyes were an oceanic blue, and despite the goofy costume, she’d been immediately struck by how… well, to put it plainly, how hot he was. In an almost gross way—a way that an older man she definitely should never be associated with was hot.
But she’d bit her lower lip and shot him a sly little smirk anyway and, if she didn’t know any better, Beth swore she caught him smirking back, eyes raking her up and down. She hadn’t even been wearing anything particularly cute, just jeans and a sweater with her winter coat unbuttoned. Then she’d turned to follow after her boyfriend, and when she glanced back over her shoulder, she was almost certain she caught the elf staring at her ass in the tight skinny jeans she’d been wearing.
Now, Beth was almost certain that rough-and-tumble looking elf had been promoted to the role of Santa Claus himself. Seeing him up close in the big red suit, she could see that he was broad-shouldered with thick arms, and a resting scowl on his face that he didn’t even attempt to hide unless he was directly interacting with a child or plastering on a congenial smile for a photo.
Quite frankly, she would’ve been dragged along for this outing no matter what, but she’d be lying to herself if she tried to say that she hadn’t hoped—just a tiny bit—that the hot older elf would be here when she came back with the whole family for pictures with Santa. She’d thought she would dress even cuter, maybe do some harmless and very discreet flirting.
She hadn’t ever expected he’d be old Saint Nick himself.
“A’right now, who’s this handsome li’l devil?” Merle said in a convincingly sweet tone, goaded on by the paycheck he was promised for being just nice and charming enough. He reached out and booped the baby on his nose, though said baby merely went quiet and stared back with wide, curious eyes. “Huh. Not much of a talker, is he? Wha’samatter, yer first time seein’ an elf, li’l guy? I’m a little outta my habitat here, but I reckon you can relate with me on that front.”
The blonde, her sister, and the Asian guy laughed like it was a bit, though Daryl knew they probably wouldn’t be laughing so much if they heard the things Merle said when they were out of earshot. Regardless, they were being paid to do a job, and the job was to perform.
The brunette approached Daryl and held out her baby for him to take, to which he obliged and took him carefully, well used to this by now. He cradled the little guy in his arms as two tiny, slobber-covered hands reached up to grab at his fake beard. He gently pried the tiny fingers away and situated the baby for a photo while the mom and dad positioned themselves beside him, per Merle’s directions.
Meanwhile, the blonde jailbait stood off to the side, watching with a smile. The camera flashed. Daryl situated the baby to a sitting position on his knee, leaning forward while the parents gestured for the older man with an actual Santa Claus-looking beard to step into the photo and pose with them—Daryl assumed he must be the grandpa. They quickly pulled the blonde into frame, as well. Another flash of the camera. Then the elf in charge of photography signaled for them to move on and Daryl handed the baby back over to the mom, who grinned and said, “Thank you!”
A few seconds later, they were gone, and the next people in line were stepping forward: a guy about Daryl’s age with brown hair and a scruffy matching beard, a heavily pregnant Black woman who appeared to be his wife, a young boy who couldn’t have been older than 12, and a toddler girl. Daryl focused on situating the kids on his lap for the photo while the parents posed beside him, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to the side and spotting the blonde girl still standing nearby, watching. He caught a flash of bare skin peeking out from between the mesh of her shirt and the top of her jeans.
God. If only he weren’t dressed as fucking Santa Claus right now. He thought he’d like to run his hands across that skin. Slip his fingers beneath the waistband of those tight jeans, and…
Suddenly, that family was done and moving on, but the kids were staying behind. Another couple came in to take photos with Carl and Judith before their turn was up. She was mostly watching Santa, though. Maybe she was imagining it, but it seemed like he was very aware of her presence, eyes continually darting to her before looking away just as quickly.
Rick suddenly called out, snapping Beth out of her distant observation. She looked at him in confusion and Rick waved her over, urging, “C’mon, a picture with you an’ Carl, before he goes through another growth spurt an’ ends up a foot taller than you!”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and hurried into frame while everyone else but her and Carl posed with Santa. The elf in charge tried to convince Carl to sit on Santa’s lap, but he adamantly refused, insisting he was fine simply standing beside the man in the fake beard and big red suit. Beth had to stifle a laugh as Carl’s face went red and the camera flashed.
Then, just as she thought she was finally done and free, her daddy stepped in and said, “Oh, Bethy, we should get one last picture of you on Santa’s lap.”
She looked to her dad, close to flabbergasted, and was about to argue before she saw the longing look of nostalgia in his eyes and the sad little smile on his face. Dammit. She glanced over to Maggie, who shot her a look that silently conveyed her mixture of apology and agreement. It was their first Christmas without Mama, after all. She may as well give him this.
With a sigh, she gave in. “Alright, Daddy. But this is the last year I’ll do it. I’m way too old t’be sittin’ on Santa’s lap.”
Hershel nodded in understanding but grinned all the same. “This one’s gonna go in a special frame on the mantle.”
Beth made a point not to look into the face of the former-hot-elf-turned-hot-Santa, afraid her own face would turn beet red for the photo if she dared attempt any sort of eye contact.
Then again… maybe this could be an opportunity.
She perched herself precariously on his lap, trying to center her weight on one leg while keeping both feet on the floor. Daryl could tell she was being cautious, trying to play it cool with her family nearby. But before she could realize what was happening, his hand was on her waist and discreetly urging her closer. She relaxed a bit, resting her weight in his lap almost fully as she focused her attention on the camera lens and plastered on a smile.
Daryl simply couldn’t resist—she was so solid, so warm, and so very much on his lap, mere inches from where his dick lay dormant beneath the layers of the suit. The slightest brush of her leg against his crotch, even the weight of her on his thigh, was enough to make his blood rush straight downward.
Just as the camera flashed, she felt something wriggle to life against the side of her thigh. She froze. Heat immediately coursed through her body and between her legs, and she struggled not to bite her lip at the feeling.
Daryl realized she could feel it and went just as rigid, mortified while also fighting to stifle an audible groan in his throat.
“Alright,” the elf behind the camera called out, “next!”
At the very last second, Beth relaxed, squirming against his leg and toward his crotch.
A low, almost indiscernible growl issued from somewhere deep in Santa’s throat. His hand tightened its grip on her hip before releasing her. She smiled in triumph.
As she turned to stand, she placed a hand on his shoulder for leverage and whispered, “Is that a candy cane in your pocket, Mr. Claus? Or did you just like havin’ me in your lap that much?”
He stared at her, blinking in disbelief. Then he replied in a husky whisper, “You try’na get on the naughty list?”
She took her time standing up, feigning difficulty with finding her footing, and whispered, “When’s your next break?”
“Fifteen minutes,” he said without missing a beat.
“Meet me behind your workshop.”
He smirked, keeping his eyes on her backside as she rejoined her family with a saunter that was purely for his enjoyment.
Daryl had to be snapped back to attention by Merle literally slapping him on the shoulder and hissing out, “Tuck that shit down, pervert, yer about t’have a li’l kid in yer lap.” And sure enough, all it took was a deep breath and a realization that an actual child was approaching him to make Daryl go completely soft again.
Though he was definitely still thinking about the jailbait who’d promised to meet him in fifteen minutes.
Beth went through the process of standing in yet another line and waiting for the photos they’d taken, glancing up at the big clock adorned in Christmas lights overhead. In about seven minutes, she would need to find a way to ditch her family and return to Santa’s workshop for her gift.
Thankfully, Maggie was able to buy their photos pretty quickly, even after spending several moments perusing the options. Their dad pitched in his opinion on which photos to get, and Beth tried not to look mortified when one of their choices was the picture of herself on Santa’s lap—didn’t they notice the gleam in her eyes? The blush in her cheeks? The very specific way she was sitting on that older man’s lap?
No, they probably didn’t. They were too focused on how baby-faced Beth still appeared to them, and how seemingly innocent the entire scene was.
The second 3:00 hit, Merle latched the rope closed and put up a sign.
SANTA IS CHECKING HIS LIST!
BE BACK SOON!
Daryl heaved a deep sigh and stood from the throne, muttering, “I gotta smoke.”
“Smoke, huh?” Merle remarked. “Reckon you’ll be doin’ more’an that.”
“Yeah, like takin’ a few swigs from my flask to keep me sane around all these snot goblins.”
“Right. An’ that’s all, huh.”
“Shut the hell up.”
Daryl didn’t even offer him a backwards glance before weaving through the fake snowmen and plastic snow-covered trees to the back of the very large plastic doghouse that had been made up to look like Santa’s workshop. Once he was there, he posted up and gazed around at the passersby in search of a certain blonde.
Beth was loitering close by, paying no heed to the ongoing debate between her family and the Grimeses over whether they wanted to do more shopping or leave. Lori and Shane had left immediately after the photos were purchased and printed. Beth turned her head and there he was, leaning back against Santa’s workshop. As soon as their eyes met, he gave a discreet nod. She smirked back.
Then Daryl pointed to his left and her eyes followed—down the way was a completely vacant store covered in white tarps, roped off to the public. Signs were put up outside of it announcing a grand opening in January.
They looked back at each other. She nodded. He smirked.
“Well,” Hershel sighed, turning and gesturing toward the Auntie Anne’s at the opposite end of the mall, “I was really lookin’ forward to a pretzel.”
Glenn agreed quickly, “Oh man, I would kill for a pretzel right now.”
Rick groaned in exhaustion. “Hell, I think I would, too. Whadd’ya say, Carl?”
“Yes, please!” Carl agreed eagerly.
Maggie looked to Beth, expecting her to agree and happily follow along. “Actually,” Beth said, “I was gonna go check out a couple other stores before we leave. I still have some shopping to do.”
Maggie quirked a brow questioningly. “For who? Thought you said you’d done all yer shopping already.”
Beth shrugged. “For Jimmy.”
“Oh. So you decided to actually get him something.” Maggie gave a teasing smile before nudging Beth’s arm. “Want me to come with and help pick somethin’ out?”
Crap. “Actually, I was thinkin’ of gettin’ something else for you, too. You tryin’ to ruin the surprise?”
Maggie paused, looking her baby sister up and down, her eyes narrowing. But then she conceded, “Alright, sneaky pants, go on then. But we gotta get back home soon for Hershel’s nap. Meet us back here in thirty minutes?”
“Of course. Thirty minutes,” Beth promised before watching them all trail off together in the direction of the Auntie Anne’s.
Daryl made a beeline for the closed PacSun, knowing full well that it would be devoid of any human life; it was being completely remodeled and turned into a Sephora, but no one stepped foot past the numerous signs and the big white tarps during operational hours of the mall. Which also meant no active security cameras inside except at night, when the construction crew would be working.
He glanced around, checking for prying eyes, before finding a parting in the tarps and pushing one side open just enough to slip past as it fluttered shut behind him. Once inside, he glanced around to find little in the makings of a beauty supply store, most of it still covered in tarps with scaffolding arranged haphazardly. It was mostly dark save for a few lit bulbs and the fluorescent lighting that filtered in from outside, giving the whole place an odd sort of glow. Everything smelled like fresh paint and plastic. About twenty feet ahead was a small alcove between service counters and display racks—the perfect spot to lean against and have a smoke.
And that’s exactly what he did as soon as he pulled out the big fake belly from beneath his shirt and laid it down on the counter next to him. He posted up and took a long, anticipated drag off his freshly lit cigarette, pulling out the flask he had stashed in an inner pocket of the suit and taking a couple hearty swigs while he kept his eyes on the front and waited. He didn’t even bother to take off his big red Santa hat, or slip the fake beard off his face.
Beth approached the large white tarps precariously, pausing in front of them and glancing back to make sure her family was completely out of sight and that none of the mall security was watching her. Then she found a parting in the tarps and slipped inside.
Daryl heard her before he saw her, and his cock jumped in his pants but he didn’t move, content to wait. She glanced around curiously, eyes adjusting to the dimmer lighting. Within seconds, she spotted him: the bright red suit among all the stark white tarps and the uniform display racks.
He nodded to her in greeting. She smirked, a flutter bursting to life in her stomach and her blood suddenly rushing through her veins at a rapid speed. She approached him slowly, toeing her way around the paint cans and half-constructed displays. Her eyes dragged up and down his form as she took in his costumed appearance.
He took a long drag off his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and snuffing it out with his boot, and as he exhaled the gray cloud up towards the ceiling, he rasped out in a gravelly voice, “Ho ho ho.”
“If that’s what you want me to be,” she quipped, stopping just in front of him and looking up at him. “You did say I could be on the naughty list.”
Daryl grunted. “Seems y’already are.”
Beth shrugged, feigning a coy innocence as she batted her eyelashes at him. “Does that mean ya won’t be comin’ down my chimney this year?”
A knot formed in Daryl’s throat, his cock growing fully hard. He managed to respond, “‘M tryna make a point of visiting the naughty girls first.”
She could feel the heat coiling in her belly, blood rushing, a tiny pool of wetness already forming in her panties. She bit down on her lower lip teasingly, glancing him up and down before meeting his icy blue eyes again. “Guess it’s a good thing I saved you a cookie, then.”
He exhaled heavily and reached out to place a large hand on her lower back, shoving her forward and against him. She put out her hands in surprise and they landed on his chest, though she didn’t try to impede their sudden closeness. Her warmth against him was radiant in the way it seemed to seep through his thick Santa costume, and she pressed up against him at an angle that gave him just enough friction to groan from his throat at the sensation on his already hard cock.
Before they went any further, he reached inside his big red coat and pulled out the flask, offering it to her wordlessly. She smirked and raised her eyebrows, looking to his face for a reaction. He shrugged shamelessly. At that, she shrugged back and took it, throwing her head back for a large swig. She grimaced as it went down and handed the flask back over, which he tucked away once more. Once she’d swallowed, she coughed—the taste was diabolical. Like a fermented candy cane.
“Atrocious,” she choked out, coughing again.
Daryl chuckled. “I know.”
Once she recovered, they locked eyes for barely a second, flitting their gazes down to each other’s lips before they were both leaning in, Beth craning upwards to reach his face and closing her eyes. Their lips met somewhat tentatively at first, but it quickly turned heated. Daryl’s hand on her back urged her closer against him, his mouth pressing into hers, his tongue tracing her lips before pushing forward to run along her teeth and against her own tongue. He tasted bittersweet, like peppermint and cigarettes. She exhaled a hot breath through her nostrils that danced across his upper lip, the fake beard tickling both their faces. She tasted sugary soft, like chocolate and marshmallows. He groaned from the back of his throat, his cock straining inside his pants, harder than ever.
He brought his other hand up to cup her jaw before pulling back, breaking the kiss. When their eyes fluttered open, their gazes locked to find wide pupils mirroring one another, lips already beginning to swell from the intensity of their kiss. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip to watch the way it slightly dimpled at the pressure and then plumped back out.
“How old’re you?” Daryl asked, his voice low and husky.
Beth smirked, the blush that was already bright pink in her cheeks deepening and spreading farther out. “Does it matter?”
He gave a lazy, one-shouldered shrug, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips as he gazed down at her like he was damn near enraptured. “Pro’lly not, but I still thought I’d ask. Plausible deniability an’ whatnot.”
Her top teeth bit gently at her lower lip, dragging it inward for just a second before releasing it so he could see the way it plumped back out, and her gaze flicked away, contemplating. She looked up at him with wide, doe-like eyes and said, “What if I said I’m eighteen?”
A hoarse chuckle escaped his throat. He placed a teasing kiss at the corner of her perfect, kiss-swollen lips, then trailing down to kiss at her neck, just below her jaw, one hand burying itself in the hair at the back of her head, the other splayed across her lower back, keeping her firmly in place against him.
Against the soft, supple skin of her throat, he muttered, “I’d say yer a liar, an’ lyin’ to Santa don’t ever work. ‘Member, I see you when you’re sleepin’...”
She shuddered, a full-body chill running through her deliciously, pooling in her panties.
He placed another tantalizing kiss, eliciting a stifled moan from her parted lips, “I know when yer awake…”
She inhaled a ragged breath, chest rising, and her eyes fluttered shut. “I-I’m sixteen.”
He placed another kiss. “Since when?”
The heat was rising and rising in her center, the dampness gathering between her thighs. “L-like, when did I turn sixteen…?”
Another kiss, longer and more tempting, more teasing. “You goin’ stupid on me, girl?”
She inhaled sharply and dug her fingers into the thick, polyester-rough fabric of his suit, gripping it like an anchor that kept her upright. “Back in August.”
He shuddered and she felt it against her, the visceral reaction. She shifted her leg until her thigh was right against that familiar hardness from earlier, and he knew she could feel him throbbing through the layers of fabric. “Christ, you really are jailbait.”
Beth couldn’t suppress the smile that formed on her face, leaning her head back as he kissed longingly across the expanse of her throat, down to her chest. “Guess we’re both gonna be on the naughty list this year.”
The fake beard was tickling her neck as he kissed her, and she wrapped a hand around the back of his head to urge him on. Suddenly, he stopped, pulling back briefly and retracting his hand from where it had been wrapped in her hair to tug at his beard and pull it down—but she quickly reached out and stopped him, laying her hand atop his. “No, keep it on.”
Daryl gave her a questioning look, and not even just questioning but also perplexed. Before he could think better of it, he muttered out, “The hell? Really?”
The blush in Beth’s face darkened to a deep red that was evident even in the sparse light of the renovated store. In an attempt to distract him, she slid her hand down over his thick, red suit and settled it atop his bulging crotch. As soon as she cupped his hard bulge in her palm and ran her thumb over it teasingly, he rutted up into her palm instinctively. All prior thoughts flew out the window, and he was capable of doing no more than tilting his head back and letting out a moan. The sound seemed to echo off the tarp-draped walls. Precome seeped out of his cockhead and dampened a spot in the suit that she inevitably felt.
For the briefest split-second, he recalled seeing her standing with her father—or who he could only guess was her father—and his full, white beard. And the other man that had been with them, though he hadn’t been nearly as old (in fact, he appeared to be much closer to Daryl’s own age, if appearance was anything to go by), and the thick, full beard he sported, albeit a beard that was not gray or white with age. And in the haze of lust Daryl was currently swimming through, he wondered… did she have some kind of repressed thing for beards on older men? Was this a ‘daddy issues’ kind of thing? Or was this just about wanting to fuck Santa?
Well, this girl was weird, but he wasn’t gonna question a good thing when it landed in his lap.
Beth could tell that Daryl was slightly put-off by her insistence that he keep the fake beard on. She was just grateful he hadn’t wondered why she wasn’t asking for his name, or for him to take off the rest of the suit. But it wasn’t like he’d asked her name yet.
Besides, something about the mystery was making it all that much more enjoyable for the both of them.
Daryl’s eyes were squeezed shut, his head tilted back, and Beth was grasping his hard cock through his pants and stroking ever so gently in all the right ways. Suddenly lacking all inhibitions, he asked with a strained voice, “What happened t’that scrawny kid you was holdin’ hands with the other day?”
Beth paused, caught off-guard. She squeezed him through the pants with more intent and responded, “Didn’t come with me today.”
Daryl gasped sharply. “Shit—he know yer out here try’na get railed by Santa?”
Her other hand slid up and grasped his shoulder, and then she was leaning up and whispering near his ear, “I dunno. Where’s Mrs. Claus tonight?”
He swallowed down another groan, fighting not to fully thrust into her hand and failing—he only managed to suppress himself slightly by grinding up into her palm. She exhaled a hot breath against the side of his face, a quick gasp of surprise escaping her lips. Her hand tightened and offered the friction he so desperately desired.
“F-fuck, she—sh-she ain’t around no more, got tired’a my shit.”
Beth pressed herself up against him, offering the heat emanating from between her legs in addition to the sensation of her palm grasping and massaging at his throbbing bulge. Then she whispered in a tone that nearly reached a whine, “That’s too bad. I bet she’d love watchin’ me take your big gift in my mouth.”
Daryl paused, hesitating and about to ask if she really meant what he thought she meant.
Then she was dropping gently to her knees before him, looking up at him with those big doe eyes while her fingers hung lazily on the waistband of his pants.
All she had to give him was a look, a subtle bite at her lower lip, before he was exhaling heavily and hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and sliding them down until they fell to his knees. His cock sprang spree, jutting straight out and glistening with precome. Her eyes widened with curiosity and glee just before she wrapped a hand around the back of his left thigh. Her other hand moved to gently wrap around the base of his shaft, and before he could do more than let out a breath of relief, she was opening her mouth and taking him in fully.
“Ohh, holy fuck,” Daryl moaned out, tilting his head back and letting his eyes fall shut. A full-body shiver ran through him, turning quickly to partial euphoria that overtook any remaining logic within his brain.
The thick length of him was almost overwhelming, but Beth had been prepared. She wrapped her lips around it and welcomed it, digging her fingertips gently into the soft flesh of his thigh as she urged him in deeper, more thoroughly. She glided her tongue around the veins and head, teasing him for a long moment as she built up saliva. He moaned out and grasped at the back of her head, entangling his fingers in her hair and resisting the urge to shove her face down further. She moved up and down, circling her tongue around as she did so, teasing him with the promise of the back of her throat with every thrust in and out. He began trying to push further in, but she held him off, humming around his cock as she sucked. He gasped in surprise, breathing in sharply and freezing momentarily. For a long moment, she hesitated, afraid he was about to come—and he was afraid, too. Then he managed to stifle it and she continued.
As she slid her lips all the way down, nearly reaching the base of his shaft, she slid her hand up and gently cradled his balls with her fingertips. He shivered, suddenly thrusting himself into her mouth to the point he nearly reached the back of her throat. She paused, stopping herself from gagging, and allowed them both a moment to recover. But then she dove back in, taking him in as fully as she was able, and cupped his balls in her palm while rolling them around just slightly with her fingers.
Daryl shivered. An animalistic moan escaped his lips, echoing off the tarps and walls around them: “Holy fucking Christ—!”
Beth could only grin around his cock, more than pleased with herself as her own clit was throbbing and her panties were soaking with a pool of arousal. She took him in fully once more, then a second time, lapping and prodding with her tongue at the spot on the underside of his cockhead, until she felt it swelling and his shaft pulsating with a need to explode, his balls tightening in her hand. At that, she slipped away and gave his cockhead a long, lingering suck that ended with a pop when her mouth slipped off of it. Daryl shuddered and groaned deep from his throat.
“Holy fuck,” he remarked, gazing down at her with hazy vision.
She looked up at him with watery eyes, licking her lips to savor the salty sweet taste of him. “I was gonna tell you to fuck my face, Saint Nick,” she teased, “but maybe that’d be too much for you.”
Daryl’s breath hitched in his throat and he had to swallow hard to regain the ability to speak, his cock twitching mere inches from her lips. Shit, could he last through all that? He really wanted to fuck her very innocent-looking face.
“Hol’ on,” he grunted before reaching into his coat and extracting the flask. Then he pulled out a fresh cigarette and his lighter. Within seconds, he was taking a long swig of peppermint schnapps and a drag off his smoke.
Beth watched with wide eyes as he set the flask down next to his fake belly on the counter beside him, then kept the cigarette between his lips at the corner of his mouth. And the next thing she knew, he was grasping both sides of her head and easing her forward. She immediately opened her mouth, eyes still locked with his as she watched the steady stream of gray smoke waft up around his face from the cigarette. Then his cock, still slick with her saliva, slipped past her lips. She took in his length once more, her fingers grasping the flesh at the back of his thighs, and readied herself.
He eased in at first, slowly until he felt the tip of his dick graze the back of her throat. She hollowed out her cheeks for him and never once broke eye contact, staring up at him like a goddamn doe. He inhaled a drag of his cigarette, exhaling it through his nose, and then he gave a half-hearted thrust into her warm, wet mouth. She moaned around his cock and his eyelids fluttered from the sensation, the heat coursing through his whole body.
“Santa’s got a big ol’ present waitin’ for ya, sweetheart,” he mumbled around the cigarette. “Jus’ gotta be a good girl first.”
She blinked rapidly in response and dug her fingers into his thighs. He groaned from low in his throat and thrust into her mouth again, slipping out just a couple of inches before giving another hearty thrust. Almost immediately, he found a rhythm. His hands gently but commandingly grasping the sides of her head, his hips rutting back and forth, his hard, throbbing cock sliding in and out of her mouth, across her lips, as he seemed to hit the back of her throat every time.
Beth couldn’t stop staring up at him, watching him as he carelessly smoked a cigarette that was clenched between his lips while actively fucking her mouth. Some of her own saliva was dribbling out past her lips and trailing down her chin, but all she could taste was his dick. She felt it every time his swollen cockhead hit the back of her throat, making her eyes water to the point that a few tears slipped free and rolled down her cheeks. She hummed around his engorged length, moaning involuntarily every now and then. Her own arousal was so heavy that she could feel it soaking through her panties and beginning to track down her inner thighs, even despite the tight denim of her skinny jeans.
Daryl thrust in and out a few more times, grunting and smoking, his legs starting to shake. “Fuck, fuck, I gotta stop, yer gonna make me come down yer fuckin’ throat.”
She merely hummed back, “Mmhmm.”
“Nah, ain’t how that’s gonna be,” he said with finality, giving one last good thrust just to feel the back of her throat again before pulling himself out entirely. He released his grasp on her head and took the burnt-down cigarette from his mouth, tossing it to the floor and casually snuffing it out with his boot heel.
Beth released her grip on his thighs and wiped the excess spit from her chin, licking her lips and continuing to stare up at him with blown pupils. As he exhaled his final drag from the cigarette, he gestured lazily towards her chest.
“Take yer top off. Santa wants t’see yer tits.”
She smirked and did as she was told, remaining on her knees as she first pulled off the string of toy Christmas lights she’d been wearing as a festive oversized necklace, then pulled her shirt up and over her head, letting both fall to the floor in a pile beside her. She hadn’t worn a bra today—didn’t really need to most of the time, in all honesty—and the chilly mall air hit her bare flesh and sent goosebumps up and down her arms. Her nipples hardened and peaked immediately. Daryl’s eyes grew a little wider as he gazed down at her, a sly smirk of satisfaction appearing beneath his fake beard.
He reached over and grabbed the flask, taking another swig without taking his eyes off her for even a second. Once he’d swallowed it down and set the flask away, he licked his lips and jerked his head toward her, asking, “You wet?”
Beth bit down on her swollen lower lip and nodded, batting her eyelashes at him once again.
“Good,” Daryl grunted. “Y’ready f’yer real present?”
She nodded again, feigning a sweet, meek tone to ask, “It’s not a lump of coal, is it?”
He let out a hmph and scratched his jaw beneath the long white beard. “Nah. ‘S somethin’ a lot better. Get up, princess.”
She did as she was told, slowly raising herself back to her feet. As she did so, she glanced over at the silver flask he’d been sipping from and noticed the festive etching on the front of it: Santa’s Little Helper. She stifled a chuckle, biting at her lip.
Without hesitation, his cock still jutting out hard and ready, Daryl reached forward and swiftly unbuttoned Beth’s jeans. The heat rose to the surface of every inch of her skin as she realized what was happening, and a downright giddiness was taking her over. Her hands were practically trembling as he yanked down the zipper and hooked his fingers beneath the waistband. Then he slipped them off her hips, down her thighs, and let them finally fall and pool around her ankles. His pupils dilated at the sight of her lacy red panties adorned with little white snowflakes and a single, dainty green bow at the front.
She placed her hands over top of his and guided them to the waistband of her panties until his fingers were playing across the dainty bow, then she asked, “You like ‘em?”
His cock visibly twitched between them, a bead of precome forming and dripping to the floor. He swallowed hard enough that his Adam’s apple bobbed from the effort of stifling a groan, and his eyes were completely locked on her tits and the panties at his fingertips. “Shit… think you might’a just made the nice list fer the next decade, girl.”
Beth slipped out of her shoes and jeans, kicking them to the side to form a pile with her shirt. Daryl was still transfixed with her panties and the supple skin around them—her soft thighs, her tight stomach and jutting hipbones, and the small patch of coarse, curly blonde hair between her legs. He slid his fingers along the inside of the waistband of her panties until he could grasp either side of her waist and pull her forward, yanking her so close that his jutting cock made contact with the front of her panties and made him audibly groan. Then he leaned in and kissed her.
She shut her eyes, bending to his will at every turn, and kissed him back, knowing he could taste himself on her lips, her tongue. His own tongue darted out and lapped at hers, entangling briefly. Tasting himself in her mouth only proved to make him harder, and another groan rolled up from the back of his throat. She could feel the vibration all through her jaw and down her throat. The wetness in her panties pooled further, making her inner thighs sticky with need.
When he broke the kiss, it was sudden, and she opened her eyes to look at him in surprise. But all she found was a gaze darkened with lust and need. Very suddenly, he shoved his hand down the front of her panties and found her clit. She gasped in surprise, but as soon as his fingers began rubbing the swollen nub, her gasp melted into a moan of pure pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she bucked up into his hand, wordlessly begging for more.
“That the spot?” He growled, his mouth right next to her ear, the fake beard tickling the side of her neck and sending tingling chills down every inch of her body.
Before she could respond, he had two fingers trailing down her slit and finding her entrance—and the soaking wetness awaiting him. He shuddered against her, a hot and heavy breath escaping his lips and hitting the shell of her ear. She bucked up into his hand again, nodding as she whimpered.
“Jesus Christ, yer soaked,” he purred into her ear.
She had to bite down hard on her lower lip to stifle the very loud moan that wanted to escape. All she could do was push herself up against him more, begging for some kind of penetration.
Thankfully, he obliged, but only a little. He slid the very tip of one finger inside her. Beth shivered, wrapping her arms around him and grasping at him for leverage so she wouldn’t collapse. He placed a tantalizing kiss on her earlobe and wriggled the tip of his finger, and she could feel his hard cock twitching desperately against her belly. He was smearing precome across the exposed skin above her panties, but she couldn’t have cared less.
Without warning, he extracted not only his finger, but his whole hand from her panties. She gasped out and opened her eyes, searching him desperately for more. But before she could audibly protest or make any kind of move, he was grabbing her forcefully by the hips and turning her body with his.
Daryl lifted Beth like she weighed nothing—she couldn’t be more than a buck-twenty even after a Christmas dinner—and placed her somewhat roughly atop the edge of the service counter directly to his left. Then, before she could speak, he yanked her panties down past her ankles and tossed them on the floor.
She felt the cold plastic sheeting beneath her bare ass and the backs of her thighs, then Daryl placed a hand on her chest and gently pushed her back to lie down, and despite the cold on her back, she was still wet and aching for some kind of stimulation since he’d so abruptly pulled his hand away. Her clit was throbbing, and when she glanced down, she saw his cock meeting the same pulsation, fresh precome gathering at the tip and slowly dribbling to the floor.
Then he was positioning himself between her legs, the height of the counter so perfect that it left him at the exact height he needed to drive his cock into her wet, warm, waiting pussy. But he wasn’t going to do that. Not just yet.
He took a second to lower himself and reach into the pocket of his Santa pants, and when he stood back up fully, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, yer gonna love this. It’s only fer the real naughty girls.”
Beth pushed herself up on her elbows, eyeing him curiously until she spotted what he was holding. She grinned.
A red-and-white striped peppermint candy cane.
Daryl unwrapped it in one quick motion, dropping the plastic to the floor. Then he positioned himself between her open legs again and leaned in, holding out the candy cane until it was at her lips. Their eyes met in equally hooded desire and she parted her lips, leaning forward just enough to take the tip of the candy cane into her mouth. He groaned like it was his cock. Meanwhile, his actual cock was twitching and weeping atop the edge of the counter, inches from her waiting cunt.
Maintaining steady eye contact the whole time, she wrapped her tongue around the candy cane and sucked, taking it in deeper until only the hook-end was left grasped between his fingers. He pulled it out teasingly before sliding it back in, again and again, slowly and sensually at first but gradually picking up speed. Within seconds, her whole mouth was sticky and sweet from the candy, and Daryl was visibly shivering with anticipation.
He finally sild it out of her mouth fully, watching the way her lips grasped and almost refused to let go while the end escaped with a wet sound. He reached up with his other hand and cupped her breast, massaging it and pinching her nipple between his fingers. She gasped and let out a moan, her whole body twitching with need. He glanced down to see her arousal glistening at her entrance, leaking down and pooling on the plastic. He had to fight not to rut forward with his throbbing cock.
He met her eyes again and rasped out, “This was in my pocket, but it ain’t what y’felt when you were on my lap.”
Beth shuddered, but before she could respond in any other way, he was circling her entrance with the tip of the candy cane she’d just been sucking on. And then he was pushing it inside, inch by inch.
Her muscles gave out and she let herself fall back to lie prone before him, eyelids fluttering shut, hips bucking up toward him and into the sensation. It was terribly skinny and very sticky, but she was slick enough that it slid in and out fluidly, and he wriggled it around to tease her. Then he had his other hand atop her pubic mound, his thumb on her clit and rubbing slow, torturous circles while he slid the candy cane in and out.
The heat coiled in her belly, filling to the point of bursting. She bucked up into his hand in search of friction as he pressed harder on her clit and sped up his movements with the candy cane. His cock was throbbing and leaking incessantly, but all he could focus on was her perfect, tight, wet pussy, and the way it was grasping the candy cane. He could feel her inner muscles tightening around it, even without being inside of her.
She moaned out, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back against the surface of the counter, “Oh my god, don’t-don’t stop…”
“Yeah, y’like that?” He urged, speeding up the motions and rubbing her clit more fervently. “G’on, be a good girl an’ say my name.”
“F-fuck me, please—please, Saint Nick, make me come, I swear I’ve been a good girl—!”
Daryl blinked, a bit taken aback, but he was too clouded by lust to really give a shit. He sped up his pace, driving the candy cane in and out while he rubbed at her swollen, throbbing clit.
Beth’s chest was heaving, her whole body tingling and the heat gathering and gathering until it was peaking at the bottom of her gut. She bucked upward and froze, her pussy clamping around the candy cane and seizing for barely a second as a fire exploded within her and spread through all her limbs. Her breath froze in her chest and she gasped out, back arching. Before she could recover or take a full breath, she felt a vacancy between her legs and opened her eyes, glancing down.
Daryl had pulled out the candy cane, now fully wet with her juices, and held it up to admire it in the light. Once he met her eyes and knew she was watching, he kept his thumb on her clit, still gently rubbing circles that made her shudder with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Then he put the candy cane to his mouth, licking down its entire length and wrapping his lips around it, sucking it just to taste her. Somehow, it tasted even sweeter than before, the sensation shooting straight through him and down to his throbbing cock. He couldn’t get enough.
Beth bucked up into his hand again, letting out a loud moan and aching to come again at the sight. He kept sucking on the candy cane as his hand slid away from her clit and up to fondle one of her tits, watching her the whole time.
“Jesus, Mister Kringle,” she gasped, breathless and desperate, “just fuck me already.”
He lapped his tongue up the length of the candy cane one last time before tossing it to the floor and quickly positioning himself between her legs. He grasped both of her knees and kept her legs spread, licking his lips while his throbbing cockhead was jutting up against her soaked, waiting entrance. “Only ‘cause y’been such a good girl.”
She bit down on her lower lip and prepared herself, scooting down toward him in anticipation until her ass was on the edge of the plastic-sheeted counter. The tip of his swollen cock nudged up against her slit, eliciting a moan. Then, tightening his hold on her knees, Daryl shoved himself inside her, slipping in with ease past the slick wetness that she’d built up. He let out a tortured groan as his entire length was swallowed up and his balls met the bottom of her asscheeks. Beth moaned out louder and longer, her hands grasping at the plastic sheet beneath her like it was a bedsheet. They shuddered in sync and he let himself fully sink in, relishing in the wet and the warmth, before he slowly pulled back out and hesitated, gritting his teeth.
Their eyes met, half-lidded and hazy with lust. He shoved himself back in and watched her eyes roll back until they fluttered shut, her back arching and her fingers bunching up the plastic sheet. His own fingers were digging into the flesh around her knees, then he slid his hands up a few inches until he was grasping the meat of her thighs, breathing heavily while the heat built to nearly broiling within his gut. He pulled her down a bit until her ass was half-hanging off the edge of the counter, his cock thrusting deeper inside of her.
“Oh-oh my god, please,” she whined, her voice high-pitched and needy, “please, Santa, fuck me fer bein’ so naughty all year!”
Daryl thrust harder and harder, in and out, rutting up into her like an animal as his whole body grew hot. He was grasping her flesh so hard, he feared he’d leave marks. He released his grip with one hand and slid it up to rub at her clit, earning more moans and sharp gasps as Beth’s eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering, muscles spasming around him. The wetness built and gathered until the sounds were downright sloppy. His balls slapped against the bottoms of her asscheeks, echoing off all of the tarps hanging around them. He grunted, perspiration forming on his forehead and nearly drenching his fake beard.
“Christ, girl,” he panted, pumping in and out, his cock harder than it had ever been as he felt himself bottoming out inside her, “gonna make me fuckin’ come—!”
“Yeah, yeah,” she keened, “come down my chimney, baby, I’ve been waiting all damn year.”
He continued rubbing at her clit while he thrust in and out, but then he released his grip on her other leg and reached up to slip down the fake beard and give himself some relief, exhaling deeply as the cooler air breezed across the lower part of his face. But when he looked back down at her, she returned his gaze with a very displeased frown. She reached up, slapping at his arm.
“Put it back on—and fuck me, Kris Kringle,” she demanded, gasping sharply between sentences as he thrust his cock up into her. “F-fuck me like Mrs. Claus is gonna find out.”
Daryl hesitated for only a second, but he did as he was told and slipped the beard back up over his mouth and into place, shoving himself into her a little harder before sliding back out tantalizingly slow. “Goddamn, girl, yer weird as fuck.”
Then he grasped one thigh and steadied himself, slamming back into her with intent. It proved to silence her, sending her eyes rolling back once more and falling shut while her head tilted back, her back arching, and her pussy clamping around him.
Beth felt the heat building and building again, the throbbing of Daryl’s cock adding to the sensation. She could feel his orgasm building and fit to burst, his cockhead swollen and pulsating within her with every thrust. She bucked her hips into him and moaned. He rubbed vigorously at her clit, adding to the near overstimulation.
“You gonna come for me?” He panted, speeding his rhythm, her tits bouncing with every thrust.
“Y-yeah,” she whined, fighting to drag her eyes open and meet his gaze, her mouth gone slack. “Oh fuck, d-don’t stop, right th-there—”
He didn’t. Daryl kept going exactly as he was, circling her clit with his thumb in the same motion until he could feel her pussy fluttering around his cock, tightening and clamping down. The heat coiled into a tight fireball at the bottom of her gut. She stared up at him—his big red hat, his long white beard, his red coat with the white fur lining—and felt herself tipping over the edge.
His dick was engorged to the point of explosion within her. Just as he let out a deep groan and thrust inside with everything he had left, bottoming out and shoving every last inch up to his balls inside her, she froze and gasped in sharply, the fireball finally releasing and bursting wide open.
“Fuck, fuck,” he cursed through gritted teeth, “I’m coming—!”
“Yesyesyes, me too, come inside me, Santa!”
Daryl saw stars, his entire body going rigid for several endless seconds. Beth’s breath caught in her throat, ascending to another plane as the climax ripped through her. She didn’t even notice the bead of sweat rolling down her neck until the sensation had returned to the rest of her body, and then she felt his own dripping onto her from where he hovered over her.
He panted, slowly loosening his grasp on her. Seconds later, he pulled out, cock gone soft and sticky with their combined fluids. Beth let out a soft whimper when he slipped out, his come leaking after him.
They took a few minutes to recover, breathing hard and struggling to compensate for their exhausted muscles. Their faces were speckled with perspiration, various parts of their arms, legs, and torsos splotched red from pressure and exertion. Daryl was thoughtful enough to help Beth down from the countertop, but they turned away from one another while they redressed and straightened up.
Daryl grabbed his flask and took a long swig, offering it to Beth when she turned to face him. She accepted, taking a much smaller sip than her first and handing it back. He tucked it away inside his red coat before pulling out a fresh cigarette and lighting it. He inhaled deeply, holding it in his lungs as he leaned back against the edge of the counter, soaking up the sight of her.
Beth slipped the oversized Christmas lights back over her head to hang around her neck as the final touch for her outfit then met his gaze. She flashed him a satisfied smirk.
Through a haze of exhaled smoke, Daryl rasped, “So… was that on yer Christmas list?”
She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes, taking a step forward before reaching out to pluck the cigarette from his fingers. She put it to her lips and inhaled, holding it in as she handed the cigarette back, and exhaled a cloud that nearly matched his own. Her eyelids fluttered, pupils still blown and cheeks flushed. She gave a little shake of her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know, Mister Claus.”
Daryl didn’t even have the desire to pull down the fake beard. He smirked back while looking her up and down.
She stepped forward and hesitated a second, then leaned in to plant a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. His eyes fell shut and all he could taste was her through the cigarette and peppermint schnapps.
When he opened his eyes, she was backing away, drinking in the sight of him, biting at her lower lip. Then she turned toward the direction of the opening in the tarps which would lead her back into the mall.
She took a few steps in that direction before pausing, glancing back over her shoulder. “See ya next year?”
He grunted, cigarette hanging nearly forgotten from between his fingers as he watched her go. “Guess it depends on how naughty y’are.”
“And what if I’m a real good girl all year?”
“I’ll keep the extra seat in my sleigh warm for ya.”
She giggled. “I’ve always wanted to visit the North Pole.” A sly smile played across her face as she remembered his first costume. “Maybe you could introduce me to the elves.”