Christmas with Saint (Fun For the Holidays) Read online

  CHRISTMAS WITH SAINT

  by

  J. Sterling

  CHRISTMAS WITH SAINT

  Copyright © 2022 by J. Sterling

  All Rights Reserved

  Edited by:

  Jovana Shirley

  Unforeseen Editing

  www.unforeseenediting.com

  Cover Design by:

  Michelle Preast

  www.Michelle-Preast.com

  www.facebook.com/IndieBookCovers

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Please do not participate or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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 the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-945042-49-2

  Please visit the author’s website

  www.j-sterling.com

  to find out where additional versions may be purchased.

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  Other Books by J. Sterling

  Bitter Rivals—an enemies-to-lovers romance

  Dear Heart, I Hate You

  In Dreams—a new adult college romance

  Chance Encounters—a coming-of-age story

  The Game Series

  The Perfect Game—Book One

  The Game Changer—Book Two

  The Sweetest Game—Book Three

  The Other Game (Dean Carter)—Book Four

  The Playboy Serial

  Avoiding the Playboy—Episode #1

  Resisting the Playboy—Episode #2

  Wanting the Playboy—Episode #3

  The Celebrity Series

  Seeing Stars—Madison & Walker

  Breaking Stars—Paige & Tatum

  Losing Stars—Quinn & Ryson

  The Fisher Brothers Series

  No Bad Days—a new adult, second-chance romance

  Guy Hater—an emotional love story

  Adios Pantalones—a single-mom romance

  Happy Ending

  The Boys of Baseball

  (the next generation of Fullton State baseball players)

  The Ninth Inning—Cole Anders

  Behind the Plate—Chance Carter

  Safe at First—Mac Davies

  Fun for the Holidays

  (a collection of stand-alone novels with holiday-based themes)

  Kissing My Coworker

  Dumped for Valentine’s

  My Week with the Prince

  Fools in Love

  Spring’s Second Chance

  Don’t Marry Him

  Summer Lovin’

  Soaring Through August

  Falling for the Boss

  Tricked by My Ex

  The Thanksgiving Hookup

  Christmas with Saint

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Other Books by J. Sterling

  Santa’s Favorite Elf

  This Woman

  Put Saint Under My Tree

  Taking Her Home

  He Wants Me?

  Finally Coming Clean

  Long Live Shower Sex

  Freaking Out

  Promise Breaker

  Monster Pants

  Losing My Best Friend

  My Christmas Wish

  Epilogue: Christmas Dinner

  Author’s Note

  Other Books by J. Sterling

  About the Author

  SANTA’S FAVORITE ELF

  IVY

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said as I tugged at the flimsy material attempting to cover my ass. “This thing is way too short. I can’t wear this.”

  I looked at my best friend, Cori, whose expression was torn between comical and concerned as her violet-colored bob swished around with her movements. “You look hot.”

  She was the only person I knew who could not only pull off that haircut, but also any color she decided to change it to. Cori was as experimental with her hair as I was safe. No one touched these golden locks, except me.

  Narrowing my eyes, I glanced down at my exposed thighs once more. “I’m not supposed to look hot. I’m one of Santa’s elves!”

  “Yeah, the hot one,” she mumbled under her breath, and I almost lunged for her, but I knew it would rip the so-called skirt in half. Or at least bust the zipper. “Ivy, it’s fine,” she said, trying to placate me.

  “It’s not fine.” I pulled at the material, trying in vain to make it rest on my hips instead of my waist so I could get a little more length out of it. “This event is for kids, not their dads.”

  “Who do you think brings them here?” she asked, and I realized that she’d planned for this. All of this.

  “Cori, I’m not going out there in this. I can’t even bend over. I’m sure elves have to bend at some point.”

  “Put some Spanx on underneath then. That way, when you move around, you won’t be showing your goodies to all the horny dads out there.” She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Where is he?” She was talking to herself as she looked around the otherwise empty room.

  “Who’s playing Santa this year anyway?” I asked right as Saint freaking LaCroix walked through the dressing room doors, carrying a pair of black boots, his blue eyes sparkling, even in the fluorescent lighting.

  “Ho ho ho! I am.” His voice sent chills down my spine and made my thighs quiver. He sucked all the air out of the room the minute he waltzed into it.

  Trying to pull it together, I shot Cori a murderous glare that let her know she could have at least warned me. But then that wouldn’t have been any fun … for her. Instead, I spun around and practically hopped into Saint’s arms as he wrapped himself around me, making my skirt go all the way up. I felt the cool breeze of air on my exposed ass cheeks as I breathed in his scent.

  I had no idea what he wore that made him smell so good, but it always caused a visceral reaction in me. It was like it’d imprinted on me at some point, become a part of my DNA or some kind of sensory memory. One time, when I had been walking through the mall, the same smell drifted past me, and I almost fell to my knees in response. Whipping my head around, I’d searched for Saint, but he was nowhere to be found.

  “Santa would never get any work done if you were at the North Pole,” he whispered into my ear, and I smacked his shoulder as I hopped down and adjusted my clothes.

  I’d been pathetically in love with Saint since I had come out of the womb. At least that was how it always felt because I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t have it bad for him. He’d always been sweet about it, subtly flirting back with me and making me feel special instead of embarrassed, but I knew he was just being kind. Saint never looked at me as anything more than his best friend’s little sister. Even when I’d started to grow boobs, his eyes had stayed firmly rooted to my own.

  It was annoying.

  Every other guy stared at my chest instead of my eyeballs, but not Saint. Even when I’d tried to torture him in high school by wearing cleavage-baring crop tops and tank tops so tight that you couldn’t help but notice what was hiding behind the fabric, he never even glanced down. There were times I wanted to shove my boobs in his face, but my brother, Davey, would have killed me on the spot. Davey had made it abundantly clear that I was to stay away from his friend. Not that I listened.

  The worst part was that Saint knew I was obsessed with him. I’d never been any good at hiding it. And if I’d thought that my feelings could be filed away as some sort of silly schoolgirl crush when I got older, I was sorely mistaken. Saint was still the object of all of my fantasies, even now that we were grown adults. Everything I always liked about him had grown tenfold as he aged.

  Why couldn’t I just get over him already?

  “How did Cori rope you into this one?” I asked, trying to play it cool but I was dying inside.

  I’d be spending all day by his side. Five hours of one-on-one time with the only guy I’d ever wanted to kiss, but never had. There was one time when I’d thought it might happen when we were in high school, but he’d ducked away at the last second, and I was too mortified to ever try again.

  Now that we were older and had full-time jobs, we didn’t see each other as much as we used to when we were kids, but we still kept in touch on social media almost daily, sending each other private messages and silly pictures. Although Saint never looked silly. He always looked downright edible with his messy, dark hai
r and deep blue eyes.

  He and Davey had started a locals-only dating app for the successful individual. That was how they marketed it. You had to make a certain income amount to even be accepted onto the site. And each user had to be referred by someone who was already on it.

  The whole technical side of things was convoluted and confusing, but I understood at least that much about how it worked. Davey and his fiancée, Samantha, had met on the site, but as far as I knew, Saint wasn’t on it. It was a point of contention between him and my brother. Davey was always trying to get Saint to sign up, but Saint refused, saying they already had one owner who was a success story and one was all they needed.

  I couldn’t have agreed more.

  That man needed to never sign up for any dating site. Ever. And if I found out that he did, I would be signing up the next day.

  Saint flashed me his trademark smile, the one that made his dimples appear, and I berated myself for all the dirty things I imagined doing to that perfect, chiseled face.

  “She asked,” was all he said in response to my question. The one I’d completely forgotten asking.

  “Get changed, Saint. They’re getting antsy out there.” Cori appeared between us, shoving a Santa costume into his arms. “Here.” She tossed me a pair of black shorts.

  “You gonna put those on?” Saint asked with a still-dimpled grin, and I stuck out my tongue. “Seems like a waste if you ask me.”

  “If I don’t, every man out there is going to see my ass every time I move around,” I answered, and his face suddenly twisted into an expression I couldn’t read.

  He looked … jealous instead of his usual irritated glare.

  Could that even be possible?

  THIS WOMAN

  SAINT

  Dear God.

  When Ivy mentioned the idea of every guy out there seeing her ass when she moved, I almost came undone. No one who wasn’t me should get the privilege of seeing any naked part of her. The woman was a goddess. An absolutely fucking beautiful female who I’d had a crush on for years. A crush I was never allowed to give in to—otherwise, her brother would kill me in my sleep.

  He’d threatened it on more than one occasion.

  And honestly, since I was always sleeping over at their house, I believed him.

  If I didn’t have anything to lose, I would have told him to screw himself and gone for it. That Ivy was worth it all.

  But Davey and his family had been there for me since my mom had taken off without warning in the fifth grade, leaving me and my dad alone. My dad worked a lot after that, and if it wasn’t for the Simpson family, I would have been by myself, getting into who knew what kind of trouble.

  They took me under their wing and treated me like I was one of their own. When Davey and I were younger, Ivy was always following us around, batting her eyelashes up at me like some lovestruck puppy dog. It used to annoy me, and I would call her names in some weak attempt to make her go away. What could I say? I was young and stupid.

  But then Ivy grew up. And I did too. And the last thing I felt about her was annoyance. I wanted her to follow me around then. Wished that she would “accidentally” walk into the bathroom just as I was walking out of it. I would have given anything to have her body pressed up against mine when we were teenagers. There had been more than one occasion when we happened to be alone that I thought she might actually kiss me. I would have let her; I would have given in to those lips being pressed against mine as my tongue moved inside her mouth and memorized the way she tasted. I tried to give her all the permission she needed with my body language, but she never followed through. And I couldn’t be the one to initiate it, no matter how badly my dick begged me to.

  So, I screwed other girls in some pathetic attempt to stop thinking about Ivy. News flash: it didn’t work.

  I’d never forget the night I got caught checking her out in the living room. She was leaving for a date, and I was so fucking jealous that I couldn’t see straight. I stumbled on my words when I tried to give her advice, everything coming out in a jumbled mess that didn’t make a lick of sense. And when she walked out the front door with a confused look on her face, I couldn’t stop staring at her ass, wishing it were me she was leaving with.

  Davey punched me then. Hard. Told me if I didn’t stop ogling his little sister, he’d make me leave, and I’d never be welcomed back. Then, he took it one step further and made me promise that I’d never touch her. Ever.

  “Even when we’re thirty,” he’d said for clarification.

  When I agreed to the request, I knew even then that I was lying, but the thought of being kicked out of the Simpson house terrified me for a multitude of reasons. Not seeing Ivy definitely topped it. Somewhere during our childhood years, she’d become the thing I looked forward to the most. If I didn’t get to see her at all, it felt like my whole day was ruined. Like something vital was missing.

  And now, here we were—me dressed up like Santa and her as one hell of a sexy elf—and all I could think about was bending her over and sliding her panties to the side, so I could enter her from behind. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she was wearing a pointy green hat. She looked adorable. It was embarrassing how much I still wanted her after all this time.

  Even more embarrassing was Davey’s continual hold over me about it. We were in some sort of sick and twisted stalemate of who could resist the longest before breaking. Would Davey finally relent and give me his blessing to rail his baby sister? Or would I be the one who gave up on the dream and called it quits once and for all?

  Even thinking about letting go made my stomach twist into knots.

  Give up on having Ivy?

  Not a fucking chance.

  Living the rest of my life without tasting her wasn’t something I would ever willingly walk away from. I’d be holding on to that dream until I took my last breath. I’d rather die first.

  “Who knew Santa could be so sexy?” Ivy was standing next to me, straightening my beard and fixing my jacket, her green eyes penetrating mine.

  “You’re just being nice. No one looks sexy in this,” I teased, hoping she’d tell me all the ways in which my self-deprecating opinion was wrong.

  Her tongue snaked out, and I practically salivated as I watched it move across her bottom lip. Did she need more moisture on her mouth? I’d gladly give it to her. My eyes zeroed in, my dick twitching inside of my Santa pants.

  “You put on those shorts, right?” I asked out of nowhere, and she lifted up her skirt to reveal a pair of skintight shorty shorts hidden underneath. “Jesus, Ivy.” My voice sounded like I was scolding her, but she’d caught me by surprise by raising it up. My brain almost short-circuited at the thought of what I might get the pleasure of seeing.

  “You don’t have to get so mad. They’re on, okay? You can tell Davey I was a good girl,” she said, her tone snarky, and I knew she was irritated. I couldn’t even blame her.

  “I’m not telling Davey shit.” I wanted her to know we weren’t kids anymore and the last thing I was doing was reporting back to her big brother about her behavior.

  “Yeah right,” she argued under her breath, and I took a possessive step toward her, my frame hovering over hers.

  “You’re a grown woman who can take care of herself and make her own decisions. It’s time your brother finally figures that out.” I stared into her green eyes, the color of them piercing, rooting me firmly in place. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to not lean down and give in to what I’d wanted for so long.

  “He’ll never stop treating me like I’m fifteen,” she tried to say, but her voice stuttered, and I wondered if my being this close made her uncomfortable.

  Did she still want me as much as she used to?

  I wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her toward me, pieces of her body brushing against parts of mine. “Do I make you nervous, Ivy?”

  That damn tongue reappeared once more, licking her top lip this time, and I started shaking my head.

  “Put that tongue back in your mouth,” I chastised, and she did as I’d asked, which surprised me. I’d figured she’d argue.

  “Maybe one day, you’ll start seeing me for who I am too.” She wiggled out of my grasp and walked out of view, that skirt barely covering her ass with each step she took.

  She thought I still saw a teenage girl when I looked at her, as if that was a bad thing. Ivy had no idea that I’d always been in love with that teenage girl.