Santa, Sir Read online

  "Thank you, for dinner. It looks good."

  Seven simple words, gruffly voiced, but her heart swelled at their sincerity. Baby steps.

  "You're very welcome."

  If anyone thought it odd how stiff and old their relationship seemed, given that they were still newlyweds by most standards, well, they would certainly be right. But their story was a complicated one, Becca mused, pushing her meatloaf through her mashed potatoes with her fork. Becca and Mason had dated for several months, right before Will died. There had been a point where they had been talking marriage and plans for the future, but when Will had died, everything had changed. After his father's death, Mason had been despondent, throwing all his frustration into his work; there was no time for relationships, no room in his heart to think of other people. Having lost her own father several years before, Becca had understood completely, and had walked away, giving Mason the space he needed to grieve. She had told herself that if it was meant to be, eventually the stars would align and they would come together in such a way that left no doubt as to the course for their future. That had happened, but not in a way either of them had expected.

  The fateful meeting turned out to be at the ribbon-cutting ceremony and grand opening for the new lodge that had been Will's pet project. Becca had agreed to fill in as a server for her friend's catering company at the last minute. There was an open bar, and as the night wore on, and after her shift was over, they had both gotten a pretty good buzz. One thing had led to another, and they had gone home together. Neither one of them had expected it to go anywhere, but they hadn't been very careful either. When Becca found out she was pregnant, Will had proposed, and because she really loved him, she had said yes. With her contacts, she had thrown together a lovely, but quick wedding, and no one had been the wiser.

  The miscarriage at fifteen weeks had thrown them both for a loop. They had each dealt with it in their own ways, but separately, not together. By the time Becca had come out of her fog, months had passed and the damage was done. The little progress their relationship had made was erased with grief. And here they were, married, and not even sure how to share a meal.

  "You can't wear that tomorrow." Mason's edict cut through her musings, dragging her back into the present.

  "What's wrong with it?" she asked innocently, preening slightly as she admired the outfit once more. She was just glad to get the conversation moving forward in any direction.

  "It's grossly inappropriate," Mase growled.

  "Oh, Mason, don't be such a prude. It's tasteful. Everything is covered that needs to be. The old dress was huge, and designed for the body of a sixty year old. And the style? Even older." She was going to keep up the fight, not because she thought she had a snowball's chance in hell of actually accomplishing what she had originally set out to, but because she actually really liked the dress, and she was determined to get some pleasure out of this farce of a plan.

  "You might very well be fully covered, just enough to teeter on the limits of appropriate, but I spent three hours fighting an erection." He paused, and shot her a stern look. "Becca, I can't spend the day lusting after my wife while handling small children. It simply won't do."

  "Oh!" Becca exclaimed, blushing as she took in the full implications of his words. She really hadn't thought this through. "I'm sorry!" She felt bad for just a moment, before curiosity took hold, along with a small ray of hope. "You were really… that affected?"

  Her husband took her hand in his, and pulled her to her feet, before standing with her. "Look," he commanded.

  "Oh, dear!" His erection strained against the snug front of his slacks. She was mesmerized by it. It had been a very long time since either of them had felt such carnal attraction, much less acted on it.

  "Has it been like that all day?"

  "It would have if I had let it. It's been like this since I walked in the front door, and found you still in that outfit of yours."

  "I'm sorry," Becca said, biting back a smile at his obvious discomfort.

  "Are you really?" Mason's voice was hard, his expression one of amused disbelief. "Because you don't seem sorry."

  Oh, please let this go where I want it to go. "Oh, I am, Mase. I'm very sorry." She was trying hard to be as sexy as she possibly could while still being somewhat discreet about what it was she actually wanted, and basically just praying that Mason would take the bait that she was throwing out.

  "Hmm." Her husband looked thoughtful. "I'm still not entirely convinced. I think we should move this party to the bedroom, and you can show me just how sorry you really are."

  So far, so good. The dialogue could have been better, but at least they were moving in the right direction. Literally.

  Becca hesitated, and squealed in delight when Mase scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder, giving her bottom a swat that had her heart pounding in anticipation, and her pussy begging for more. Oh god, is this really happening? Angel is quite possibly a genius.

  In the bedroom, Mase locked the door behind them before setting her on her feet. He wasted no time, making short work of stepping out of his Levis and boxer briefs. His erection was glorious. As it sprang free of its constraints, she eyeballed it nervously. She never got fully used to how well endowed her husband really was. But his getting naked from the waist down hadn't really been part of the plan. At least, not this early on, anyway.

  "I…" Becca licked her lips and searched for something to say. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

  "Your actions today were thoughtless," Mason purred. "Some might even say irresponsible. Very naughty, Mrs. Claus."

  Eeep. She was unprepared for the way his words turned over in the pit of her stomach. Her throat was dry. Other parts of her? Not so much. She was frozen in place, staring wordlessly at her husband, wondering what he would say next.

  "Suck my cock."

  Oh. Okay. That wasn't what she had been expecting, but maybe it was an acceptable prelude. She didn't really know if there was a standard order of things, and even if there was, it's not like Mason would know what it was.

  Licking her lips, Becca slowly lowered herself to her knees before him. She felt a little strange, as this was something she usually did on the bed in the dark, and with much more foreplay involved first. Still, she had to admit, that the way he had taken charge and commanded her to do it was more than just a little hot. Mason as a dominant of any sort was a step in the right direction.

  Mason was looking down at her, expectantly. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she gripped his hips tightly, and licked the length of his member up and down, before taking him in her mouth. Inhaling the musky scent of him, she embraced the job she set out to do, sucking and licking greedily, moving her hands to cup his balls. She was rewarded with a deep throated moan of appreciation.

  His hands came to rest atop her head, and she knew that meant he was ready to come. Squeezing just a bit harder, she took about her task with renewed vigor, relaxing her jaw when the first drops of salty fluid touched her throat. Forcing herself not to gag, she swallowed every last drop, and finished up by cleaning him off with her tongue.

  "Thank you," her husband said with a wink, offering her a hand up, and pulling her to her feet.

  "Do you," Becca paused, looking up at him shyly from beneath her eyelashes, "believe that I'm sorry now?" Say no, say no!

  "Almost."

  Almost is good. I will take almost. "What more do I need to do to convince you?" Mentally she was already patting herself on the back for carrying out her plan so perfectly. It was going better than she had anticipated.

  Her breath caught in her throat at her husband's lack of an answer. He said nothing, but his actions spoke volumes. Still holding onto her hand, Mason lowered himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, and pulled her down across his lap face-first.

  Becca's whole body tensed in anticipation of that first delicious swat. Mason lifted the short skirt of her Mrs. Claus costume, and hooked his hand into the to
ps of her stockings, bringing them down to rest in a bunch at her knees.

  His large hand came to rest upon her bottom, and she braced herself. This is really happening.

  Except, that it wasn't. The next thing she felt was not the sting of his hand cracking across her bottom, but instead his fingers expertly strumming her clit in a way that was hauntingly familiar. Mason was an expert at this, and even as her disappointment resonated, the heat reached a crescendo that had her panting and bucking against his lap. She couldn't help but scream out his name as she came, her body going slack against his thighs.

  Tears threatened as she sighed with a mixture of satisfaction and frustration. She had been so close.

  Chapter Three

  As usual, when the winter sun streamed through the blinds the next morning, Becca awoke to find herself alone in bed. Mason was long gone.

  In a few hours, Becca would have to meet him at the mall, and spend the afternoon playing the dutiful wife of Santa for the children of the town, hiding underneath a giant red wool gunnysack of a dress. Mason had made it clear he didn't want her showing up again in her new updated version.

  Becca wasn't sure she gave a flying fuck what Mason thought about her dress, or anything else. It wasn't that last night had been bad, it certainly hadn't, and it wasn't that it was his fault, because she knew it wasn't. Angel had told her to be direct, and honest, and ask for what she wanted. She hadn't done that. To be fair, though, that was only because it had looked like she was going to get it anyway, without having to humiliate herself in that way.

  Forcing herself out of bed, Becca sighed. She wasn't sure who was more clueless—her or Mason. At least Mason had done what she was sure made sense to him under the circumstances. She had known what she was supposed to do, and she had blown it. That made her the bigger fool.

  To make matters worse, tonight they were supposed to have dinner with Angel and Cole—and her sister-in-law would expect details. Angel was a force to be reckoned with, too, so details she would get; they just wouldn't be the ones she was expecting.

  I just need to give it up, Becca sighed to herself. It wasn't as if she had some deep-seated, long hidden desire to be spanked. The obsession was fairly new, only a few weeks old, to be exact. Fighting for something she would probably end up hating anyway was stupid. The idea of actually asking Mason to spank her was a crazy one. She couldn't imagine ever being able to say those words out loud, and couldn't imagine Mase not laughing at her if she did. They both knew that Angel and Cole used spanking in their relationship, obviously, but all Mase had ever had to say about it was, "That's their thing, it works for them, I guess."

  Just based on that, Becca should have known better. Mase was about as vanilla as you could get. Hell, the man wasn't even vanilla ice cream; he was a straight off the plant vanilla bean. Thinking that that was ever going to change was just setting herself up for disappointment.

  She just needed to put the dream, and any thoughts she might have about making it a reality out of her head and concentrate on loving the man she married, just the way he was. It was, she would find out, easier said than done.

  * * *

  She had shown up in the dress again, even though she had promised she wouldn't. It should have affected him much more than it did, especially with the memories of what they had done last night in the forefront of his brain.

  While he had been in a wonderful mood all morning, Becca must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. She could have just as easily been another college student hired to fill the position for all the attention she paid him. It was quite ridiculous really, because she was the Mrs. Claus to his Santa. Her main job was to carry babies, and dote on him.

  Instead, she was acting like he wasn't even there. At the very least, she was acting like she didn't know him from Adam. When she did speak, she addressed the children, not him.

  "Mrs. Claus, why don't you come over here and give Santa a kiss?" The older kids laughed when he wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively. He figured he had her there, but Becca was quick on her feet.

  She walked right up to him, leaned in, then jerked away, plugging her nose as if she had encountered something offensive, and turned towards the line of children watching.

  "Santa has cookie breath," she announced in an exaggerated stage whisper, in a way that suggested cookie breath was the most offensive odor on the planet, and had the kids in the front howling with laughter. "I think he needs a candy cane!"

  With a wink, she pulled one from her apron pocket, and without bothering to even remove the wrapping, stuck it in his mouth, and turned away, leaving him sputtering and confused as he stared after her, spitting little bits of plastic onto the floor.

  The rest of the day went pretty much the same. The only good thing he could say was that this group of kids was a little easier and older than yesterday's bunch.

  Still, it made for a difficult day for Santa, when Mrs. Claus was alternating between giving him the silent treatment, and killing him with snark and attitude, and he had to work twice as hard to make it seem like she wasn't, for the sake of appearances.

  Also, he had no clue in the world why she would be acting this way. Last night had been one of the better nights they had had in a very long time. He had not realized how bad things had gotten or how distant they had become from each other, until his wife had to ask him to eat dinner with her. For Mason, that had been something of a wake-up call, and it had been all the warning he needed to acknowledge that things needed to change, and the resolve to do something about it. The blowjob that followed hadn't hurt either.

  "All right, that's a wrap for the day! See you all tomorrow!" Marjorie the elf exclaimed as she plucked the final child off his lap, and began to close down the area of the mall that was sectioned off as Santa's Workshop.

  Mase grunted in response. "How many more days of this?" It was the fifteenth.

  "Only eight! Ten days till Christmas! Better get your shopping done."

  Christmas shopping. Another thing he didn't want to think about. Thankfully, he didn't have all that many people to buy for, and Becca handled most of the gift buying. He just had to figure out what to get her. No easy task, either, as he was notorious for being a horrible gift-giver. Maybe Angel would give him a hint.

  Suddenly, Becca appeared at his side, looking more amicable than she had been all day. "Ready to go, Santa?"

  "Oh, are you speaking to me?" Mase's voice was heavy with sarcasm. It might have been immature, but he couldn't help himself after the grief she had given him all day.

  "Oh, shove it," Becca replied, but she was smiling. He would take it.

  "Nice dress," he added, giving her a look.

  "So glad you like it," she replied with a look of her own back at him.

  Good lord, what was going on with them today? Hopefully, it was just work stress, or her trying to keep him from having lecherous thoughts at work, and now that that part of the day was over, she would go back to normal. One could hope.

  "Well, let's get going, I'm sure Angel is anxious for us to get there. You know how she is."

  Mase groaned. He loved his sister, and Cole was his best friend, but their relationship was an interesting one, and they were sometimes a little too open about it for his taste. The last time they had all had dinner together, Cole had gotten frustrated, and spanked Angel in front of them. On Thanksgiving no less. Mase was praying this wasn't going to become a regular occurrence. He didn't think he could handle seeing that again. Once had been more than enough.

  * * *

  "I'm giving up. It was a stupid idea," Becca whispered across the kitchen island. The game was turned up so loudly in the other room, she knew that Cole and Mase wouldn't be able to hear them anyway, but this just seemed like the type of conversation where you whispered. Unless, of course, you were Angel. Angel never whispered.

  "What? Are you crazy?" her sister in law all but yelled. "You can't give up! You've barely started!"

  Becca leveled h
er boisterous sister-in-law with a glare. "It's not Mase, and I don't want to change him. We're going through a rough patch, but this is not the answer."

  "Okay, fine. It doesn't matter to me. I was just trying to help," Angel said with a pout.

  "I know. Thank you for that. It's just, last night was probably one of the best nights we have had in a long time, and afterward, I felt let down. That's not healthy, to want something that is never going to happen."

  "It could happen though, if you listened to my advice, and just told Mase what you wanted."

  "I don't want to have to tell him. You don't have to tell Cole to spank you!"

  Angel frowned. "That's different. And it's not like I have never had to ask Cole to spank me—I have, several times. But we have a consensual agreement. Mase is never going to do that without you asking him to first, because, well, that's just not Mase."

  "I know. I just feel like if I have to ask, something is taken away from the experience. It's crazy, I know, but I thought about what you said about different types, and I just don't think a fun sexy spanking would work for me. It would have to be real, or at least, a surprise. Is that too strange? Am I crazy?"

  "You're not crazy. I'm just not sure I know how to help you make that happen. I don't think it matters what you do, it would never occur to Mase to spank you for real. Which is actually very odd, considering that Cole is his best friend and all."

  Becca sighed. "I know, I know. This isn't helping. I woke up this morning, one hundred percent determined to put these thoughts behind me, and just concentrate on making things better, but as soon as I saw him, I just got angry, and frustrated. We were so close. I really thought it was going to happen last night. And no matter how hard I try to put the thoughts out of my head, I just can't. What in the hell is wrong with me?" Tears were threatening again, and she hid behind her hands before lowering them once again, to glare at Angel. "You know, this is all your fault," she accused.