Stocking Stuffers: A Five Story Christmas Anthology by Darling E.J. & Rives K.M. & James Maira & Ivers Melissa & Matilde Sibylla

Author:Darling, E.J. & Rives, K.M. & James, Maira & Ivers, Melissa & Matilde, Sibylla
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Nash

My hair is tousled to perfection, and I’ve got on my favorite lady killing, ass hugging pants. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can detract from the giant cat face sweater with a sewn in scarf and bells. I didn’t even ask my mom where she got this hideous thing. I don’t want to know. That would mean there’s more of them. Thankfully, Bash is in something equally hideous. His has a Christmas tree on the front, also with stylish bells, and lights that work.

You know, just in case the bells aren’t enough.

Jules is in a black sweater dress thing with white and red snowflakes, and she looks adorable in her distractingly fitted leggings that reveal every curve of her mouthwatering legs. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one that notices.

My blood simmers and I take some deep breaths to calm myself. Almost every guy here has turned his head in her direction at least once. Even those married fuckers. I’ve got to get myself under control before I end up beating the shit out of one of them. I’m sure it would go over as well as it did ten years ago.

Like a lead balloon.

I grab a glass of red wine from the catered bartender and toss it back before grabbing another. I glance at Jules and frown at her chatting in a small group with another girl and two guys. One of them seems particularly engaged with her, and it pisses me off even more.

“Hey there. I like your pussy cat.” The feminine phone sex operator voice pulls my attention away from Jules.

Holy big boobs. Her black dress is low cut and skintight, contrasting her tanned skin and platinum hair. I don’t think she got the memo about wearing an ugly sweater, or any kind of sweater, but no one seems to mind. It doesn’t hurt her case that it’s a tad bit nipply in here.

“Hi.” I know it’s not the wittiest greeting, but between Jules talking to strange men and this woman’s large rack, I’m distracted.

“I’m Cali.” She peers up at me, bats her fake eyelashes, and smiles. To add to the effect, as if it wasn’t obvious enough she wants my attention, she twists a piece of hair around her index finger. “And you know, that sweater would look great on my bedroom floor.”

If she looks like a hooker, talks like a hooker, and is named like a hooker, well, she just might be a hooker. I’m not sure if she’s here on a night off or if I should ask her how much she charges for an hour.

“Nice to meet you, Cali.” I tug on the frayed ends of the scarf sewn into my sweater, trying to think of how to remove myself from this conversation without being rude. “I’m—”

Cali flips her hair over her shoulder and giggles. “Oh, I know who you are, silly. You’re one of the big time lawyers from Denver.”

“Yep, that’s me.” I give her a tight smile and drink down the rest of my wine before exchanging it for another glass.

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