Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Grinning behind the bushy, and hot, beard he wore at the children waiting he nodded. “Sounds great. I can’t wait for you to call me that as I’m fucking you.”
Without waiting for her response, he took his chair and watched as she placed his bottle of water near, but mostly out of the danger zone. Then they got back to work.
Another three hours passed until it went to hell. Nerves already wrecked, Ryker, didn’t like the look of the child who was being dragged up by his mother. Pale face flushed red as he screamed and tugged like he was on his way to his own execution, the child obviously didn’t want anything to do with Santa.
“You will sit on Santa’s lap like a good boy because your useless father wants a fucking photo of you there but can’t be bothered to take his dick out of his secretary long enough to get this done himself.” The blonde tightened her grip on him and gave him a small shake. “Stop this. I’m not your father and I will beat your ass for acting like this.” She practically deadlifted the child and tossed him onto Ryker’s lap.
One flailing foot nailed him directly in the junk. Not even the additional belly padding saved him from that one. He winced and swallowed back his moan of discomfort, even as he cut his gaze over to Rayla.
Her face didn’t show her amusement but he knew, he knew, she had seen what happened. The two seconds he had where the child wasn’t screaming his fool head off or kicking like he was learning to swim, the photo was snapped.
Eyes still watering as the boy launched himself off his lap with another slam into his groin, Ryker shifted on the cushion fighting with everything in him not to cover himself and whimper. A shadow moved in front of him and he opened his eyes to find Rayla there. She’d paused the line again and held out his second bottle of water.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
“Guess it was a good thing it wasn’t hard, huh?”
Bottle to his lips he allowed a small dribble to coat the back of his neck. He wasn’t about to indulge as there was a lot more time to go.
“That what you’ve been doing over there this entire time? Thinking about my cock?”
She took the bottle back from him and capped it. “Trying to be able to make conversation with a guy I work with. Ninety five percent of your time is thinking about your dick, isn’t it?”
“One hundred is about how you’re going to look when I’m fucking you with my extremely hard dick.”
“Unless some child breaks it.” She smiled and stepped back, waving up the next kid.
A redheaded girl came up with her hand securely tucked in what he assumed to be her father’s and looked at him.
“I don’t think you’re the real Santa.” She huffed. “Your eyes don’t sparkle.”
He beckoned her forward. “I am and they do.”
She clamored up on his lap and heaved a sigh. “Want to know what I am wishing for?”
Flicking his glance to Rayla, he made sure she got a photo before shaking his head. “Sweetie, I’m Santa. I don’t need you to tell me what you’re wishing for.”
Her cherubic smile gave him a moments pause of, maybe I do want a child.
“Oh good. I was afraid I was going to have to tell you I needed new pants because I just wet these.” She blinked pale lashes at him. “All over you.”
Yep.
There it was. Seeping through his pant leg. Urine.
Rayla was there with the father who couldn’t seem to apologize fast enough. Waving at another helper, Rayla got them to announce a quick break then tugged on his hand.
Allowing her to pull him along he did his best to hold the wet leg as far off his own as he could. Which wasn’t much. He wanted a shower, but this was the next best thing.
She guided him into a small room and closed the door behind them.
“She fucking pissed on me.”
Whatever noise she made nearly under her breath he assumed was in reprimand of his statement.
“A child. And I’m pretty sure she had an accident.” Brown eyes flickered over him. “Don’t think her goal this morning when she woke up was to piss on Santa’s leg.”
He wasn’t so sure.
“I’m not sitting the rest of the time with urine on my clothing.”
“Of course not. We wouldn’t want the children being uncomfortable. Strip. There’s another set of pants here.” She turned back to him holding up a pair of red pants. Rayla widened then narrowed her eyes.
Boots already off, he grinned at her.
“Baby, no need to have someone do that to me. If you wanted me out of my pants, all you have to do is ask. I’m happy to strip for you.”