A small sound of acknowledgment seems to be all he can get out before coughing and turning back to his desk.
Once in the elevator, I turn to lean back on the railing. I can still see Klaus staring at me from Nick’s doorway. I can’t help but shoot him a wink and salute as the doors close.
My grin is abnormally wide as I make my way back to the garage.
I am abso-fucking-lutely gonna fuck my stepbrother.
Chapter fiveNick
December 21st
Following an uncomfortable conversation with my father regarding Kris being in my office with the door locked, he dumped a massive pile of new scrolls on my desk. He then proceeded to spend twelve hours meticulously explaining the contents of each list.
I hoped to God that my story about him being here to fix my lock sounded convincing enough.
Finally alone, I stare at the mountain of paperwork I need to sort through. Naughty and nice lists that need double checking, inventory of every present request and what we could and couldn’t deliver this year. The lists, quite frankly, are overwhelming.
Maybe the Toy Development Elves could come up with a computer program that could streamline it all, making list checking much more efficient, because a hand written thirty-five foot long parchment was not the way of the future.
Groaning, I flop myself into my chair; swiveling to get a better view of the workshop. It’s hard to believe in three days this place will officially be mine.
My chest tightens at the responsibility now looming on my shoulders. Two billion children will need me to be on top of my game all year round.
Even though it was getting well into the night, by December, the workshop was on a twenty-four hour rotation.
There were no repeats. Each toy was one of a kind.
Quality Control Elves ensured that each toy that came out was perfectly tailored to each child’s request. If there was an issue, they sent it back to the smelter to be destroyed and recycled, then recreated the toy.
The long line of Claus’ had perfected the tedious process over generations, ensuring that every child in the world woke up to their dream gift under the tree.
Turning back to my desk, I sigh as I take in the mammoth amount of work in front of me.
Running a finger over my lips, I smile at the way they tingle after Kris’ possessing kisses. His cum filled kiss was the single hottest thing I’ve ever felt in my life, second only to him on his knees, mouth worshiping my cock.
I let out a small growl at the parchments covering my desk as I look out the external window of my office. This window overlooks the entire village square.
People were making their way home as the night grew darker, but my gaze landed on the snow covered metal garage that housed not only the sleigh, but someone who was quickly becoming the most important person in my life.
I had expected him to brush our hookup from last night off as just that, a hookup, laughing at me as he flipped me off, walking out of my office.
Pinning me up against the wall and shoving his hand into my pants, dropping to his knees in front of me to give me the best orgasm of my life, or kissing me with my cum still warm in his mouth had definitely not been on my BINGO card of how the morning was going to go.
The side window of the shed glows through the frost clouding over the glass, letting me know he is still there, still waiting for me.
Hidden away in the bottom drawer, the aged bottle of scotch my father had thoughtfully chosen for my thirtieth birthday seemed to whisper promises of relaxation and indulgence. Giving in, I pull it out and pour myself a more than generous amount and knock it back in a single satisfying mouthful.
I knew what would happen if I went to him. God, did I want to feel him again, touch him, fuck him, but these fucking papers were too important to skip out on.
I allow myself one more look out the window, promising myself that if that light was still on when I finished, I would go to him.
Kris’s cock being the best incentive I could dream of, I grab my pen and set to work, ensuring that all children were marked into their correct lists.
The next time I look up, the clock on the far wall of my office reads two a.m. Rubbing at my eyes, I dare another glance out the window, holding my breath as my eyes narrow in on the garage.
The soft, glowing light continued to shine brightly like a beacon.
My smile widens, and I push myself out of my seat, quickening my steps as I move towards the door. Pausing only to wrap my coat and scarf around me, I practically run through the empty office to the elevator, punching the down button, silently urging the doors to shut faster.
My stomach flutters with nerves, foot tapping as I glare at the numbers, slowly counting down.
As I leave the building, I make a conscious effort to slow down and bid good night to the night workers, restraining myself from dashing to the garage like a lovesick teen.
Though if I was honest with myself, I hadn’t ever been this excited to see someone.
I wipe my sweaty, trembling hands on my coat, then tuck them into my pockets as I approach the side door, making sure no one would notice me entering. Although knowing that anyone that saw me would never guess my true purpose for being here, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.
I attempt to knock on the door before mentally slapping myself because I still had my hands shoved in my pockets. Self doubt creeps in and I pause as I raise my hand inches from the door.
What were we doing? This could destroy not only our entire family, but our community. I hated to admit that Santa’s village wasn’t very open about different sexualities, not to mention the expectation that I would marry a nice girl and carry on our family’s traditions.
I knew I didn’t want a nice girl though. I want the man on the other side of that metal door with his cocky grin, covered in grease, who smelled like tobacco and mint.
With my decision made, my knuckles knock but the door pulls open before I have a chance. Warmth from the garage hits me in the face, melting the small dusting of snow that had gathered on my eyelashes from the short walk here.
Kris stands there, wiping those strong, calloused hands on an oil stained rag, smirking at me, his cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.
“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you coming in?” His dark eyebrow quirks as his jade eyes shine with mischief, and I nod eagerly as I step in.
The sound of the door closing echoes in my ears, and suddenly my mouth feels dry, my ability to speak slipping away. I can’t tear my eyes away from his hands, the same hands that had given me pleasure earlier, now flexing around the lock.
He returns to his workbench, abandoning the rag, and I steal a moment to divert my gaze from his muscular frame hidden beneath the dark gray coveralls to the enormous sleigh before me.
At least sixty feet of intimidating red and glittering gold, look back at me. My face tightens, lips pressing into a flat line as I make hesitant steps towards the extravagant monstrosity that represents the epitome of my family legacy.
Although the outside shell looks the same as it did when the original Santa Claus, my great-great-great-great grandfather first took to the skies. The inside—thanks to Kris—has had a total overhaul. Their dream to bring the sleigh into the modern era, becoming a reality.
Dials, knobs and screens now fill the dashboard. State-of-the-art guidance systems, radar navigation and stardust amplifiers allowed for ease of use and helped make the sleigh as efficient as possible.
Kris was currently working on specially designed helmets for the reindeer, which allowed for real time directional changes directly to the cockpit based on potential hazards or delays.
My personal favorite was the hot cocoa dispenser Kris added into the center console last Christmas. Before that, my father had cup trays filled with thermoses which would usually run out somewhere over North America.
My head spins with the realization that in just a few days, I will take the reins, literally, and I brace myself on the lip of the cockpit door to steady the dizzying thoughts.
The list of jobs to complete within that time flooding my brain. Checking inventory, route preparation, last-minute suit alterations … A warm body presses into my back and I instantly feel myself relax. Preparation concerns becoming snowflakes on the breeze.
Kris’ breath tickles the shell of my ear as he leans over me, pushing my body into the titanium shell. The smell of freshly polished leather mixes with Kris’ scent and I have to bite my lip to hold in the moan, already wanting to slip past my lips.
