“Good fucking boy.” Shivering at his words, I whimper at the friction his foot provides. My cock weeping, pulsing against his boot, desperate for release, but he watches me intently. “Now, come on my foot.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. His permission to come has me scrambling to push against his leg, grinding against the laces of his greasy work boots.

My release quickly builds deep within me and the base of my spine begins to tingle, my whole body on fire under his instruction. 

Fuck, had this been what Pepper was feeling before I interrupted them? I would have to send her a gift basket for ruining the best orgasm of her life.

With a single sweep of his hand across my hair, my spiraling thoughts cease, and I tip into oblivion. My eyes squeeze shut as I convulse against his boot. My forehead drops to his thigh, my hot sticky release fills my trousers, and I groan out his name.

His fingers pull harshly on the strands of my hair, yanking my head back so he can watch me crumble. His eyes narrow and his head tilts, that rogue curl falls across his sweat covered brow as he drinks me in. Watching me grind and whimper against his leg, trying to drag out the last of my release.

When the waves of pleasure finally calm, I sit panting on my knees. My hands fall to the floor, and a wave of guilt crashes into me. What the hell have we just done?

We haven’t just crossed a line as stepbrothers; we jumped right the fuck over it.

Neither of us say anything as I get to my feet. I leave his jacket on the floor next to him. I avoid the knowing glare of the glowing snowman, who now looks at me with his fake smile and Christmas cheer, accusingly. 

I don’t even have the nerve to look back at him to try to gauge his reaction to this, because if I look back and see regret or God forbid pity, I would have to drag myself up the mountain and find the nearest cliff to throw myself off of.

So instead of facing the consequences of my actions, I choose to be a coward, and walk away from him.

Not even the blizzard coming from the mountains could cool the shame that burns hot through my chest as I start the long sticky walk home.

Chapter fourKris

December 21st

I still sit in the same spot Nick left me last night after dropping to his knees and giving me the head job of my dreams before walking out and leaving me in his dust. 

I had spent the night questioning every look and conversation we had ever had, wondering where I had missed the fact that Nick was into guys. Well, maybe not guys, but more specifically, me.

Though I had never been naïve to his wandering eyes, I never thought there had been genuine interest behind them, or could have anticipated the way he melted in my hands as I praised him.

Fuck, the memory of him whimpering as I took my foot away had my cock begging for round two. The feeling of exploding in his mouth and him eagerly licking it all down, even when he struggled to take it, had short-circuited something in me and now all of my thoughts centered on him.

I hadn’t even bothered cleaning up last night after he walked out without so much as a glance back in my direction. I just slumped to the floor, my legs finally giving out after the adrenaline had worn off, and stayed here.

Eventually I crashed out, my head leaning against the cool metal of the sleigh, dreaming of crystal blue eyes and soft little whimpers.

Dragging my knees up and rubbing my hands over my eyes, I push my hair off my face, sighing as I looked up at the ceiling. What the fuck had we done?

The familiar weight of my cigarettes in my top pocket grounded me. The familiar routine calming me, bang, flick, breathe, relax.

I sat with my forearms resting on my bent knees and took in my workshop, smoke invading my lungs, numbing my nerves, and contemplated my next move.

Did I want to do that again with Nick? Fuck yes.

Was I sure that Nick wanted the same? No, but I would not go down without a fight.

If he thought he could walk out of here like nothing happened and I wouldn’t make him see the error of his ways, he had another thing coming.

Stepbrother or not, I didn’t give a fuck.

If I had it my way, Nick would be riding my dick and screaming my name by Christmas Eve.

Now I had him. There was no way I was letting him go.

The garage door swinging open suddenly interrupts my thoughts. Arthur strolls in with two coffees in his hands, the scent of peppermint wafting toward me.

“Rough night?” he questions, giving me a once over before his eyes find the snowman I had dragged in for Pepper to grind on. The tinsel I bound her hands with lays limply on the floor.

Pepper was okay, though she was far too cheery for anything more than a quick fuck. I preferred her gagged to shut her the hell up for more than five minutes. The tinsel helped with her obsession of running her hands down my body. I know she thought she was seducing me, but it was really just kinda fucking weird.

Looking over at the mess she had left in her abrupt exit, I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face at the memory of her face planting when Nick burst in.

“I’ll make sure it’s cleaned up.” Dragging my ass off the ground was harder than I first thought. My joints ache after a night on the cold concrete.

I didn’t bother to dust myself off as I walked over to the bench, taking another drag of my cigarette before downing the last mouthful of whiskey from the glass I poured before Pepper had arrived.

Arthur was shaking his head when I looked back at him, “Ah to be young,” he said with a smile, “If I did that now, I’d be up all night with reflux.”

He holds out a coffee to me, eyebrows raised to the now empty tumbler. I accept, mumbling a thanks as I take a deep pull from the foam cup, letting the warmth of the coffee and whiskey warm me from the inside.

We both leaned against the bench, looking back at the sleigh, my dick twitching at the pleasant thoughts it now associated with the red and gold monstrosity.

“You’re gonna have to save your cleanup till we get back.” Arthur disturbs my thoughts, pulling my concentration back to him.

“Where are we going?” I ask, taking another pull.

“The present wrapping machine has shit itself and Teddy is just about having a coronary, stressing that everything won’t get wrapped in time.” My lips jerk up in a sly grin at not only Theodore’s distress but that our destination is the factory.

Santa’s workshop had a much nicer ring to it.

The very same workshop that housed Nick’s office.

No time like the present to kick these plans into gear.

I move to grab my tool bag, taking tools off the wall that I thought we might need.

Arthur places his hand on my shoulder, halting my progress. Amusement stains his cheeks, his grin widening as he chuckles under his breath. “You, uh, might wanna go grab a quick shower. You smell like a Swedish Elf brothel.”

“Right.” I drop the tool bag and down the last of my coffee.

“Is that cum on your shoes?” I choke on my mouthful as he calmly swallows his. My eyes immediately drop to the foot Nick was grinding on, finding nothing there, but my reaction is enough to send Arthur into fits of laughter.

Tossing an oil covered rag off the bench at him, I growl, “Gimme five.”

I stalk toward the garage shower, stripping off my overalls and dumping them in the dirty wash basket next to the bathroom.