Santa's Elf Read online

  SANTA’S ELF

  Qwillia Rain

  ®

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

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  Santa’s Elf

  Qwillia Rain

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © December 2007 by Qwillia Rain

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-676-3

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Georgia A. Woods

  Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin

  Dedication

  For my mom, who never let me give up writing.

  Chapter One

  It didn’t seem fair, Elfina Jeffries decided, as she shut the door to her apartment and chalked up another failed attempt to gain Dayton Kringle’s interest. Although it hadn’t been an “in your face” attempt to draw the hardheaded toy maker’s notice, it was an effort. Kicking off her green slippers, Elf dropped onto the sofa. She glared at the pale green stockings she’d spent three days searching for.

  And did he even notice?

  No! Ten minutes had been wasted getting the darn garter belt fastened and attached to the bloody things. All for nothing, she determined, reaching beneath the skirt of her green velvet dress to unfasten the clips.

  How was any self-respecting woman supposed to seduce a man who was oblivious to her cues?

  If she were a block of oak or a premium wood finish, she could probably get the blasted man’s attention. She grumbled quietly, tugging the black leather belt from around her waist. Considering the different women Dayton had escorted in the three years she’d worked for him, she damn sure knew the man wasn’t gay.

  Based on similarities each of his dates possessed, it appeared he preferred Nordic Amazons. So perhaps she’d never had a chance from the beginning, and all this work was for nothing. While she could dye her chestnut hair blonde, there was no way she could add another eight inches to her five feet two, or go from a C cup to a D.

  Allowing a resigned sigh, which sounded more like a groan, to escape her lips, Elf wriggled around on her sofa until she was comfortably stretched out, and closed her eyes. Maybe she should just give up. In the last six weeks he hadn’t responded to the shorter skirts, the nosebleed-inducing high heels, more revealing blouses, or her sexy perfume. All the subtle little tricks the magazines and books had suggested were not working.

  Maybe wrapping a red velvet ribbon around her naked body and draping herself across his drafting table would get the reaction she was hoping for. She thought about it for a moment, and then shook her head. Nope. Doing so would only result in having some blueprint or diagram taped to her body. Most likely someplace where the removal of said tape would result in pain and Dayton asking her to hold part of whatever prototype he was assembling. Another groan slipped out as she pressed her fingertips against her closed eyes and sank deeper into the overstuffed green leather cushions.

  Why was she doing this to herself, she wondered. She was a mature, grown woman of thirty. Schoolgirl crushes were supposed to have been out of her system by the time she graduated high school, if not college.

  Maybe that was the problem. At six feet four inches with prematurely gray hair, Dayton was a walking fantasy. The plaid flannel shirts and jeans he usually wore around the office emphasized his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and muscular legs. In a suit…Elf sucked in a breath and forced away the images that tended to send her running for a cold shower.

  Clichéd as it may sound, there was no way anyone could mistake Dayton Kringle for a boy.

  Sighing again, she snuggled deeper into the sofa and let her mind wander. Behind closed eyelids, her favorite fantasy unfolded, one she’d indulged in just after her first Christmas with Kringle Toys.

  A beautiful wingback chair, painted gold and upholstered in red velvet and occupied by Dayton, dressed as Santa, is beside her. Decorations fill every window. Like every Christmas, a stately blue spruce stands in the corner behind Dayton’s chair and reaches the twelve-foot ceiling. As she glances around, Elf realizes there isn’t anyone in the building except her and her boss. The store is still, all the lights off except the soft recessed one above the throne-like chair and the blinking strings wrapped around the Christmas tree.

  Dayton relaxes into his chair, the classic red velvet Santa suit perfectly tailored to fit his broad-shouldered frame. The wide, black leather belt snug over his flat, muscled abdomen matches the shiny knee boots. His blue eyes twinkle as he turns his gaze on her. Sliding the red velvet mittens from his hands, he crooks his finger then pats his knee.

  As she moves to take a seat, Dayton sweeps the back of her dress up so the flesh exposed by her green silk thong is warmed by the sinewy muscles of his thigh beneath the velvet. Warm, calloused fingers caress the inside of her thigh from knee to hem before sneaking beneath her skirt an inch or two. The touch steals her breath and makes her nipples tighten and press against the green velvet in anticipation.

  “Have you been a good elf this year, Miss Jeffries?” His husky voice drifts past her ear as his tongue and lips nibble and explore the length of her neck exposed by her upswept hair.

  “Y-yes,” she stammers, distracted by the fingers sliding along her leg, teasing the edge of her panties.

  A wry grin lifts his lips, as he shakes his head. “Don’t lie to Santa,” he advises her, his fingers dipping beneath the silk to tease the damp curls.

  Against her hip, Elf feels the hard ridge of his cock pressing against his velvet trousers. Wriggling on his knee, she eases her thighs apart as his fingertips slide over, then between, the damp lips of her pussy. Wanting more, Elf leans into his shoulder.

  “Good little elves don’t tease Santa, Miss Jeffries.”

  “I’m not doing the teasing,” she complains, her hips shifting, attempting to press the tingling knot of nerves against his exploring touch.

  “If you want a present, Miss Jeffries, you have to show Santa you deserve it.” His unoccupied hand rises to pluck at the taut peaks of her nipples as they press against the soft material.

  “But haven’t you seen me doing all my good deeds?” Elf queries as she slid
es free the wide white buttons marching from her collar to the black belt encircling her slender waist, allowing him access to her sensitive breasts.

  “Oh, you’ve helped the needy.” Dayton grins that half-grin she finds so adorable as he snaps the front catch of her silk bra open and teases a straining nipple with his calloused fingers. “But, what have you done for Santa?”

  She allows her eyes to go wide in surprise. “You are so right, Santa, I haven’t done anything for you.” Pressing her hip against the hard evidence of his interest, Elf smiles. “I know just the present for you.” She slides her hand beneath the band of white faux fur edging his coat to stroke his swollen length.

  His groan makes her smile as she eases the zipper down and encounters only warm flesh beneath. A wicked grin lifts her lips, “Oh, Santa, you feel so warm.”

  “And you feel so wet.” His fingers easily slip into her tight pussy.

  Her hands stroke his engorged cock from base to tip. She follows his groaned instructions on how much pressure to exert. Smoothing her thumbs over his broad crest, Elf massages the drops of precum into his flesh to better lubricate her sliding hands.

  Dayton tweaks the nipple of her other breast, plumping the pale flesh around the dark pink crest as his head descends and his lips capture hers. His tongue thrusts in tandem with his fingers, slow then fast, making her squirm on his lap. She never stops her motions, matching his rhythm, his pace.

  The sound of tearing fabric can barely be heard over their panting breaths. Tossing aside the tattered remains of her thong, his fingers slide free of her pussy, and his lips pull away from hers. At first she protests the loss of his touch, but as he begins to shift her position, she assists him in turning her into his arms to straddle his lap.

  Against the swollen petals of her sex, she feels his body. Then she realizes it’s his penis sliding into her tight, wet channel. One fierce thrust has him buried so deep she feels the erotic rasp of his pubic hair against her sensitive flesh. A cry escapes her lips at the delicious feeling of completeness his possession engenders.

  The phone rang, pulling Elf from her fantasy and the edge of climax. Cursing, she rolled upright and snagged a tissue and the phone from the end table. Grinning at the name displayed on the caller ID she hit the talk button. “It was a total bust.”

  “Damn.” The disappointment in Jodi’s voice matched Elf’s feeling exactly.

  “Tell me about it. I spent three days looking for these darn stockings, and nothing.”

  “Nothing? Not even a look?”

  “Not even a look. I don’t know about this plan,” Elf voiced the concern that had been building in her.

  “You have to give it time,” Jodi tried to assure her, but Elf could hear the tinge of doubt creeping into her voice.

  “It’s been six weeks, and nothing has worked.”

  “Well, the articles and books said…”

  “Fuck the books and articles, Jodi! I’m dying here. I’m so horny I’m buying the economy-size packs of batteries for my vibrator,” Elf complained. Flopping back onto the sofa, she glared up at the ceiling.

  “Better not let your mom hear you,” her friend since ninth grade teased.

  Elf snorted. “She’d probably go off on her spiel about needing to know what satisfies you because most men need to be trained.”

  Jodi laughed. “You were so embarrassed when she sat us down and lectured us about masturbation being a natural thing.”

  “We were sixteen, for Christ’s sake.” Elf shook her head, remembering the frank discussion her mother had initiated after finding the stash of erotic novels Elf had hidden in her closet.

  “Hey, I appreciated your covering for me.”

  “It wasn’t like I hadn’t read them,” Elf admitted, studiously avoiding mention of Jodi’s aunt’s reaction if she’d been the one to find them. As unconventional as her mom was, Elf was glad she’d been blessed with her and not the unfeeling, dictatorial, bitch of an aunt who’d raised Jodi.

  “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  When Elf had complained to her friend, after one too many Fuzzy Navels, about her employer’s inability to see her as a woman, they’d concocted a scheme to get his attention. If it hadn’t been for Jodi, Elf would have given up after the first week. “I was thinking of giving up,” she began.

  “No,” Jodi interrupted. “You’ve got a couple of weeks left before Christmas Eve. When we hatched this plan, you agreed to Christmas Eve as the cutoff date.”

  “It isn’t working.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Jodi ‑‑”

  “No, listen. This is the first guy you’ve been interested in since Dean the Dickhead. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you give up a chance to finally have multiple-orgasm sex.”

  “I doubt it’ll be that great.” Elf chuckled. Despite the many fantasies she indulged in regarding Dayton Kringle, she didn’t believe she was capable of multiple orgasms. Although she had no problem bringing herself to climax, of the men she’d dated, only four of them had lasted more than six months.

  “Your mom’s nickname for him is The Walking Orgasm,” Jodi reminded her with a snicker.

  “My mom talks too much,” Elf groused. “Why are we even worrying about my love life? It’s not like I haven’t dated.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t the one crying into my drink about being a thirty-year-old virgin.”

  Elf grumbled, “It was the alcohol talking.”

  “No, it was your frustration.” Jodi paused as if debating what she wanted to add.

  Knowing what would be coming, Elf said it herself, “And seeing Dean the Dickhead and his skank.”

  “There is that. I never could figure out why you dated him for so long.”

  “Me neither.” But Elf knew.

  After the nasty breakup, she’d examined what had attracted her to Dean. It had stunned her to realize he bore a vague resemblance to her employer. By the time she’d run into Dean at a restaurant with another woman practically in his lap, she’d realized the similarities were only on the surface.

  “Listen,” Jodi interrupted her mental meanderings. “Wear something completely professional.”

  “Why? That hasn’t worked before…”

  “It’ll throw him off guard. Up until now you’ve been showing him what he’s been missing. Now, you can spin it so he knows what you’re hiding under the conservative clothes.”

  “But he doesn’t care.” Elf tried to be reasonable. “If I go back to wearing what I always have, he’ll still be ignoring me.”

  “I didn’t say you had to stay ultra conservative,” Jodi replied. “Leave a few more buttons than usual open, show a hint of cleavage.”

  Chapter Two

  Dayton Kringle watched through half-closed eyes as his door opened and that woman entered the room. The instant she came near, his body went on alert. Whether he was on the phone, in the middle of a meeting, or catnapping after a long evening’s work, he was capable of locating his administrative assistant without looking.

  Elfina Jeffries’s sensible, low-heeled navy pump kicked a wadded ball of paper lying on the floor, eliciting a heavy sigh and a resigned shake of her head. The swing of her chestnut hair glinted in the thin beam of light sneaking through the curtains. She crossed the room, collecting the various pieces of discarded paper as she went, and his ears barely picked up her mumbled words.

  “You would think a guy who can design and build the most popular toys in the country could learn to pick up after himself.”

  He fought to keep from smiling while he watched as she leaned over to drag a discarded pencil stub from next to the overflowing wastebasket beside his drafting table. Her navy skirt stretched across her heart-shaped ass and rose to reveal the sensitive flesh behind her dimpled knees. Closing his eyes to savor the sensual images sliding through his mind, Dayton went through his list of things to do.

  The idea for the wooden automaton powered by tiny solar batteries had kept him hun
ched over his drawings and diagrams until the sun began to peak over the horizon. After shutting the curtains, he’d stretched out on the extralong suede sofa Elf had ordered for his office.

  He could hear her picking up more discarded papers and pencil stubs. The whisper of her stockings as she moved about the room brought his cock to instant attention. How such a tiny woman could have such long, sexy legs, he didn’t know, but he’d fantasized about those limbs wrapped around his hips.

  Focus on something else, he warned himself.

  Work.

  Kringle Toys.

  Think about the company.

  The year’s line was already solidly in production and exceeding the projections set by the marketing team. It was good, but didn’t satisfy him. Although Christmas was still two weeks away, it didn’t exempt him from exploring ideas for next year’s toys. Which meant Elf would likely be finding messes like this every day.

  A scene unfolded against his closed eyelids of her pretty little ass beneath a sensible skirt, and her plump breasts pressing against her blouse. He drifted off to sleep with images of his favorite fantasy of coaxing Elf onto his lap for a special Christmas ride playing through his mind.

  A soft snore brought a smile to Elf’s lips, and her bright green eyes turned to the burgundy suede sofa. Dayton had complained when she’d decorated his office eighteen months ago.

  After the first time she’d found him sound asleep on it, she had never heard another complaint about the furniture. Shaking her head at the rumbling snores coming from him now, Elf moved to cover him. A thick blue and black plaid blanket was kept tucked into the coat closet. Three years ago, when Kringle Toys built its new offices and factory on the outskirts of town, Dayton had included a luxury penthouse ‑‑ why still baffled her since Dayton continued to sleep in his office instead of two floors up.