Santa's Helper Read online

  Santa's Helper

  A Phaze Snuggler HeatSheet by Yvette Hines

  Phaze 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  eBook ISBN 1-59426-581-X

  Santa's Helper © 2006 by Yvette Hines

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover art © 2006 by Trace Edward Zaber

  Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

  www.Phaze.com

  One

  Her hands moved with furious frustration as they brushed and stroked her into ecstasy. She was under a time crunch. They were allowed a five-minute smoke break every three hours of a shift and, in a minute, hers would be up. She didn't even smoke and normally she wouldn't have taken her break, but today she needed it. Needed it like a dog after a bone to sate the deeper hunger of wanting a steak. During the last hour she'd been salivating almost in a full pant by the time she took it.All he did was give me a kiss on the cheek under the mistletoe.

  Soft, fleshy fingers flickered across stiff flesh. Almost there. Her legs began to bounce and tremble as her three-inch green heels made silent taps against the carpeted floor. Her other hand held the forest green, wool miniskirt bunched against her belly, giving herself free reign as she balanced her hips on the edge of the small plank of wood posing as a seat.

  Biting her lip, she kept minimal control over her sounds as she slid two fingers inside her heated wetness. The thought this may not be the time or place flitted in the back recess of her mind. But she couldn't stop, she needed release. The three years she'd worked around him brought her to this point. All ofher unanswered urges culminated.

  With her eyes closed, she pictured his face, his smell, and the feel of his firm lips brushing across her skin as her orgasm slammed her. Her body tightened and convulsed simultaneously. She gritted her teeth together to keep herself from screaming. Her last thought was of David. "Nicole! Nicole!" a raspy old voice called out to her. Heavy panting caused her chest to rise and fall rapidly as she opened her eyes and looked around the small room in a dreamy lustclouded haze. Glancing around the enclosure of the dressing room, she noticed herself in the mirror. She looked a sight. Her lips were red from her teeth holding them captive and her eyes glassy. Skirt eschewed and the green costume bloomers and panties stretched at the bend of her knee. "Nicole! Are you back here?" Break time was definitely over. She stood on shaky legs and straightened her clothes. "Yes, Mrs. Marco," she answered, the old lady's voice came closer and the last thing Nicole needed was for Mrs. Marco to make it to the dressing room and sense what she had been doing. The scent of her wet sex saturated the air. She needed this job.

  Turning toward the full-length mirror, she took a quick look at herself to check her elf costume, then unlatched the door and stepped into the aisle.

  Mrs. Marco, the owner of the store, stood three dressing room doors away from the one Nicole occupied at the end of the row.

  "What were are you doing hiding in the dressing room?" Mrs. Marco's face twisted into a disapproving scowl as she asked accusingly.

  I was finger-fucking myself . "I was taking my break," she replied with her false cheery smile.

  "Well, that's why we have a back patio," she snapped. "The dressing rooms are for our customers." At five foot three inches, Mrs. Marco was more vicious than a miniature Doberman pincher.

  Nicole sighed through her nose so her boss would not hear her. Mrs. Marco never liked her since the day she came to work for them. Steve Marco, the eldest son, hired her. In the first week Nicole discovered Steve did so with the hopes she would be grateful enough for the job to allow him into her pants.

  "I know, but Jessica was smoking back there and I didn't want the scent in my clothes. Tobacco doesn't mix well with our perfume collection." Her smile broadened to the point of causing her face to ache. "I just needed a quiet place to gather my thoughts." Or jack off to thoughts of David. She didn't say that. The last thing Laverne Marco might want to know was that one of her employees had the hots for any of her three boys.

  Mrs. Marco eyed her suspiciously. "Well, I'm sure it is past your break time now and you need to get back to your station." No answer needed, Nicole headed by her. "Nicole." Having no choice but to stop next to her, Nicole turned and hid her

  telltale scented hands behind her back. "Yes, Mrs. Marco?" The older woman's nose twitched and she looked at her for a long moment before she spoke. "I hope you have not forgotten that tonight is the store's Christmas party at our home." A bead of sweat rolled between Nicole's breasts. "No, I haven't."

  Because you keep reminding me of it daily. "I'll need you to get there as soon as you lock up the store, because

  I'll need someone to assist me." Someone to be your beck and call girl. "I'll be there." Nodding her head, Mrs. Marco dismissed her. Hurrying away, she heard the older woman's voice call from behind

  her. "Whatever that perfume is you've been spraying about, get rid of it.

  I refuse to have that particular scent in my store." Damn it, caught wet-handed. "Sure thing, Mrs. Marco." Leaving the dressing room, she went directly to the bathroom to wash her hands before returning to her station. * * * * "So, Nicole, I guess I'll see you at the house." Steve Marco stepped

  around the perfume counter and walked toward her. Steve made her skin crawl. As the floor manager, he ensured everything ran smoothly and every customer's needs were satisfied. A good-looking man, Steve stood an even six-foot in height, with thick black hair and brown eyes. Numerous times, he'd try everything from stroking her leg during an appraisal, accidentally brushing her breast when supposedly reaching for something, or Steve's all time favorite move of removing lint and strings from the back of her outfit, using the opportunity to grope her ass. No matter what Steve did, it turned her off. He was nothing like David. David was a gentleman. He never touched her or stared at her until she thought her clothes would evaporate. His voice always held gentleness and kindness when he requested something, not filled with innuendoes as Steve's did. David always gave her just enough attention to wantmore--like the butterfly kiss.

  She walked around the stock boxes, placing a barrier between them. "Yes. I'm just going to finish putting up the colognes, then I'll be leaving."

  Moving closer, he leaned on the top box and placed his face directly in front on hers. "I could stay and help you. I'd be happy to put things wherever you asked. Wherever you wanted," his voice dropped, hinting at his blatant meaning.

  "No, thank you, Mr. Marco." She gave him the same singsong voice she had placed upon his mother earlier. "Steve." Reaching his hand out, he slid his fingers down her arm. Nicole snatched her arm away. Not deterred, he continued, "When are you going to give in,

  Nicole?" "Never." She turned away from him and began shuffling the bottles of perfume around on the shelf, knowing when he left she'd move them all back. However, she was willing to trying anything to get him to go away. "Our relationship will always remain professional." Unlike the one you're having with the rest of the saleswomen. More than one time she'd overheard the subtle sounds of sex going on in his office when one of the other women was supposed to be taking her break.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him gaze at her long candy cane, stocking covered legs underneath her green skirt.
>
  "How can you say such things to me dressed like that?" Steve's hand attempted to grab the hem of her skirt. Nicole smacked it away. "Oh, it's very easy." "Be careful, Nicole, that you don't bite the hand that feeds you." He

  gave her a leering smile. She placed her hands on her hips and told him, "Be careful, Steve,

  that you don't get yourself a lawsuit." He staggered back with his hand over his heart, pretending she had

  pierced him. "Oh, darlin', you said my name." Nicole rolled her eyes at his antics. "Steve." A deep menacing voice called from behind her, sending heat sliding along her spine. Turning around, she gazed at David across the glass countertop. Her heart felt as if it almost stopped. David looked angry and another look settled deeper in his eyes, but she couldn't read it. She wondered if he thought the way his mother did, that Nicole had her eye on his older brother.

  "Let's go, Steve. I need to stop by my house and pick up my gifts before we head over to Mom and Dad's." His gaze shifted away from Nicole as he looked past her shoulder to his brother. He didn't even acknowledge me. "No problem, baby brother." "Ahh!" Nicole squeaked as she felt the sting of Steve's unexpected

  swat on her backside. Whipping around, she gave him a fierce look. "See you later, sweet cakes." Heading toward the door with his brother, he called out, "Maybe we'll finish what we started." "In your dreams," she mumbled as she watched the two brothers

  walk out of the store and lock it from the outside. How could two men be birthed from the same gene pool and be so different? Statistically, most women would find Steve the more attractive one with his excessively handsome good looks. But not her. Steve never once made her heart race just by walking into a room the way David did every time.

  His chocolate brown eyes and thick black lashes peeping through his glasses made David studiously sexy. David's hair, unlike Steve's shoulder length waves, was kept neatly trimmed, never allowing a hair to be out of place. It made her desire to run her fingers through it and mess it up. An immaculate dresser, he always wore a dark suit and a tie. Being around him drove her crazy. David made her skin tingle for his touch and her thighs itch with the desire to wrap around his waist. He never failed to make a frisson of heat dance along her spine until it built and spread through her entire body, causing sweat to bead between her breasts. David's presence consumed her.

  Keeping to his office, he handled the sales and marketing for the store. Occasionally he went for a week at a time with his father scouting for different locations to place future stores. He shocked her earlier today when, as he headed out to lunch, they bumped into each other in the hallway. She'd muttered an excuse me, but he never said anything at first, just gazed at her. Then he looked up over their heads and said, "Mistletoe," seconds before his lips brushed softly against her cheek, his lips firm. For a moment, his lips paused against her skin and warmth radiated from the place they touched and spread down the side of her neck, causing her nipples to tighten in its path. As the heat descended, pooled in her lower abdomen, her sex awakened and yearned to be touched.

  Even that was enough to send her senses into overdrive. Then he gave her a smile, as if his giving her this kind of attention was a regular occurrence. While she'd stood in aroused shock, he left the store.

  At that moment, she felt glad she didn't listen to Mrs. Marco when she told her the mistletoe was tacky and she needed to take it down. The kiss was worth the fifteen times the owner reprimanded her about its display.

  Rushing through the boxes, she stocked the shelves in preparation of the New Year's sale. Grabbing her coat and hat from the backroom, Nicole turned off the main overhead lights and left the store, locking it behind her.

  The snow swirled around, drifting underneath the bright streetlights as she made her way to the parking garage, pausing only briefly to wish the guard a Merry Christmas before she got in her car. Lady Luck was with her tonight as her car cranked up on the first try. She pulled out of the parking spot and headed to the Marco family home. * * * * "Nicole, you're finally here. I've been running in circles needing you." Mrs. Marco latched onto her arm as soon as she entered the house, not even giving her anytime to remove her coat.

  I could have been here an hour ago if I'd left with the rest of the sales staff, or better yet have one of them help you. That's a thought. "Traffic was moving at a snail's crawl with all of the fresh snowfall."

  "Yes, yes." Not listening, Mrs. Marco ushered her deeper into the house, past the other guests, who stood around chatting as they sipped eggnog. Nicole envied the holiday revelers. When they reached the spacious kitchen, Laverne Marco gave her an exasperated look and said, "Nicole, how do you think you can assist me with your outside garments still on?" Rolling her eyes, Laverne called to the butler, who had been trotting behind them. "Richard, please take her things."

  Amazing, how someone could be so oblivious to the confusion she caused around herself, Nicole thought as she removed her snow speckled hat, gloves, and long tweed coat and handed them to Richard with a small smile of apology. Richard gave her a co-conspirator's wink, then left. "I'm glad to see you still have the costume on." She stared at Nicole's seasonal apparel for a moment, then commented, "Truly, I didn't realize how small the elf outfit would be on you. I guess you're a lot larger than Gail, more than I had anticipated. The skirt was always longer on her."

  Gail worked in the hosiery department and had been the Christmas elf the last two years, but since she was pregnant and would have the baby any day it was impossible for her to continue. Supposedly, the father of the baby was Gail's husband, but Nicole had her doubts and remained curious to see if the child came out with black hair and brown eyes instead of the blond hair and green eyes of Gail and her spouse.

  Taking a deep breath, and trying hard not to grit her teeth, Nicole reminded the older woman, "Remember, Gail is a lot shorter than I am, which is why the skirt is higher."

  Laverne shrugged and waved her hand as if dismissing Nicole's opinion. "Your hips are wider than hers as well."

  If you don't like how I look, then next year you can wear the damn thing.

  "You've had it on this long, it makes no difference at this point." Moving on to the apparent purpose why they came to the kitchen Laverne began, "Now, Nicole. Please, can you instruct the wait staff on the importance of keeping the hors d'oeuvres fresh and on time? The guests have been here for thirty minutes with nothing but eggnog to satisfy them. Then, there are gifts piled up on the table in the living room. Can you please have them taken to the back family room?" As if assuming her wishes would be carried out, she turned and left the kitchen as she shrieked about God cursing her with boys instead of girls. Sighing, Nicole began her "duties." An hour later, she gathered the remaining gifts from the table and placed them under the ceiling high, white and gold decorated Christmas tree. Alone in the room, she used the time to take a breather as her gaze traveled up the tree's height. It put her three-foot tabletop Christmas tree to shame. A disgrace to the holiday season.

  But, it would suffice for this year. Her parents celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary in Jamaica. They wouldn't be back until the second of January and her brother and his girlfriend took the opportunity of her parents being gone for an impromptu trip to Switzerland. At least her family thought enough of her to mail her gifts to her. "Ho, ho, ho." A deep voice vibrated through the room. Nicole stopped. Just the sound of David's voice caused her heart to speed up. Fearing if she moved too suddenly she would make a scene by passing out at his feet.

  As she'd been alone in the room, Nicole hadn't thought about ladylike posturing when she leaned over, knees slightly bent with ass high in the air as she arranged the packages. Now she glanced over her shoulderand recognized David dressed in a Santa suit. Nicole watched as his gaze traveled across her backside. Heat flooded her sex as he eyed her. Do you like what you see?

  As if he'd heard her, David's burning stare suddenly met hers. Clearing his throat, he held up two gift bags in his hand. "I…someone just brought thes
e."

  Are you flustered, Mr. Marco ? Smiling internally at the thought, Nicole stood up and walked toward him to retrieve the gifts. Taking the bags from him she purposely brushed his black gloved hands with her fingers. Strong hands. He even made the Santa Claus suit look sexy. Using this moment to turn on a little charm, she smiled at him and spoke softly, allowing her voice to take on an intimate tone. "Thank you, Santa." His gaze dropped to her mouth. Kiss me. Nicole begged. For a moment, it appeared as if he would do just that as he leaned

  in. Instead, he quickly stepped back from her. She kept her disappointment at bay. "You know, Nicole, you don't have to be my mother's beck and call girl." He straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose as if his small moment of weakness caused them to slip out of place. "If I want to keep my job I do," she confirmed. David shook his head. "No, Nicole, your job is not in jeopardy. Why

  do you think Mom gives you more responsibility then the other staff?" A single shoulder lifted and dropped quickly. "Because I'm easier to

  push around." He chuckled. She liked the sound, deep and masculine. "No. It's because she can trust that you'll do the job right the first

  time. Every time," he declared. "You say, potato…I say potato." Nicole commented, nonchalant. Returning to the tree, she added just enough sauciness in her steps to cause the skirt to bounce slightly up and down, showing off the top of her red and white stripped thigh-highs. Bending over at just the right angle, she gave him a full view of her green bloomers. She wished she'd the foresight to remove them so he could see her thong which matched her festive stockings.

  Taking her time to right herself, she turned back to him. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Marco?" "Yes." Her breath hitched. She was afraid to breathe, hoping her Christmas wish would come true. His fake Santa mustache fluttered as he spoke. "Your maid duties

  are over. Come join the party with the rest of us." Nicole exhaled. Not quite what she'd hoped for but, as always, she