Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy

Hudson had left last night and hadn’t stayed over like I’d wanted. Maybe he thought that the sex in the back of his pickup truck had been good enough for a day’s work.

“Do you think he invited me over to, you know?”

“Have sex? You’re a nonvirgin now. You can say it. The gods won’t smite you down where you stand,” Dakota said from where she was lounging on my bed, clipping the tags off underwear.

“I think we’re supposed to wash this first.” I chewed on my lip.

“There’s a line for the washer after that hockey game,” Dakota said. “Besides, Hudson’s not going to leave you in them that long.”

I picked at my nail polish. Last night, I had lain awake, trying to convince myself that it was a terrible idea for a person with no door to touch herself like that. With my luck, it was asking for trouble. So I just laid there, panties soaked, trying and failing not to think about how Hudson’s cock had felt in me, the dirty things he’d said to me as he’d taken me in the back of his pickup truck.

“Hello? Earth to Gracie,” Dakota waved at me.

“Sorry.”

“You need to wear these.” She held up a pair of very skimpy red lace thong panties.

“Maybe he just wants decorations. I think he might have just said he wanted me in the elf outfit just to, you know, sell the relationship,” I worried. “What if I show up in sexy lingerie and it’s super awkward?”

Dakota scoffed. “No man is going to get angry if a woman he is regularly sleeping with shows up in a sexy outfit.”

I busied myself selecting which Christmas decorations I was going to take to Hudson. I’d hauled a number of old decorations out of the attic. They were a little dated—not good dated like vintage fifties décor, just dated like from the ’80s. Still, I could make anything work.

“You cannot take those ornaments. It’s not late enough in the twenty-first century for satin-covered ornaments to be back in style,” Dakota said, grabbing the box from me.

“I think they’re kind of cute.”

“Barf.”

I tossed them back in the box and added some glass ornaments to the bag of garland. I’d been making more fresh garland for Kelly’s wedding venue décor, but Hudson deserved some, especially after James had attacked him.

Into the bag, I added an envelope of cash. I had stopped at the bank earlier to take out a cash advance from one of my credit cards. Of course, the payment from EnerCheck Inc. was late. I marked it down in my Festivus book of grievances since it was useless to complain to my father.

“We put it in our book, and then it’s the universe’s problem to take care of,” I said, dating the latest entry, and stuck the notebook back with all the others.

“Yet another of your maladaptive habits.” Dakota shook her head.

“Do you think this is enough cash?” I lowered my voice. Despite the very loud, very sexy exhibition with Hudson the other night, I still had no door. When he was around, it was as if I was the princess of the family. When he was gone, I was just Cinderella again.

“It’s too much,” Dakota said flatly.

“Hudson did go all out yesterday at the hockey game. I can’t stiff him on his money. Also he’s having sex with me. I know he says he doesn’t mind, but what if he’s lying?”

Dakota threw the underwear at me.

“Stop overthinking. It’s just sex. You always get too worked up over things. It’s not like you’re going over there to get proposed to.”

Was it bad I almost wished I was?

“We’ve been friends since we were babies,” Dakota said. “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, it’s a bad idea.”

“I’m not,” I lied. “I just think that this one’s not festive enough.” I picked it up and sat down at my sewing machine. “Why own an expensive sewing machine that makes custom embroidery if you’re not going to sew snowflakes on your underwear as a nice surprise for your fake boyfriend?”

Hudson was shirtless, barefoot, his black jeans slung low on his hips, when he opened the door.

“I have the Christmas decorations,” I said as I pushed past him into the warm apartment.

“You should have told me you were bringing all this stuff. I would have come picked you up,” Hudson scolded, picking up one of the large duffel bags and carrying it to the stairs up to his unit.

“It’s not my whole collection. Just a little something festive. I spared you from all the ceramic figurines. I think they have lead in them,” I told him.

He hoisted me up by the waist, kissing me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, losing myself in the sensation of him.

He set me down, and I felt a little off-balance.

“Let me see you,” he said, turning me around, sliding his hand along my bare midriff.

“She’s such a good girl and didn’t wear tights this time,” he purred. His fingers trailed up my thighs.

“The other night,” he said almost conversationally as he ran his hands down to my ass, fingers digging between my legs, making me inadvertently widen my stance, “I was about to jack off thinking about you in that ridiculous outfit.”

“You were?”

“Yeah. You in those boots, riding my cock,” he said. His voice seemed to drop an octave. “That bodice undone, your tits hanging out, you’re playing with them while your tight little pussy rode my cock. Then I decided,” he added, sliding his fingers under the band of the crop top, “I should just make her come over and fuck her in that outfit for real.”

I licked my lips.

“Do that again,” he ordered, eyes heavy-lidded.

I licked my lips again. “It’s a nervous gesture.”

“Really? Because all I can think about is you licking my cum off your face.”

“So I see this is not going to be a wholesome, Christmas-filled evening.”

“It can be, Sugarplum—you’re dressed in an elf costume.”

“What about the rules?” I croaked.

Sure, I wanted to believe that he was completely obsessed and in love with me, but sometimes I could be a little slow on the uptake. Like when my little siblings finally had to spoil the magic of Santa for me at the ripe age of fifteen. Yeah, late bloomer here. Very late.

“I’m a bad boy, remember? That’s why you hired me.”

He nuzzled my neck. His cheek was smooth against mine. He’d just shaven.

“Fuck the rules.”

“I think,” I told him, “that you’re chickening out and scared to bring the magic of Christmas in your home.”

He kissed me long and slow.

“I mean, clearly,” he said, still kissing me. “I brought you over here to fuck.”

I leaned back, placing my hands on his bare chest, and stared up at him.

“I still want to make your home festive,” I told him. “Everyone deserves some Christmas cheer. Look at the poor Christmas tree. It’s sad and naked.”

“I want you naked,” he murmured in my neck.

I batted away his hands.

“First,” I said, feeling a little awkward. “I have something for you.”

“It’s not a sweater, is it?” he teased.

“I’ll have you know, my sweaters are a hot commodity, sir,” I said, rummaging around in one of the bags and pulling out the stuffed envelope.

“Your, uh, well, your payment.” I stuck my hand out to him.

He looked down at the envelope.

“Thanks,” he said slowly and frowned.

I rocked back on my heels.

“I know we said 5,000, but I prorated it since we’re a few days from Christmas. I didn’t want to keep you waiting. I pay my bills on time unlike some people,” cough, “James. Payments and invoicing was one thing he insisted on doing in the company, and he can’t even do it correctly.”

Hudson ran a hand through his hair.

“Right.” He set the money on the table.

“So,” I said, whipping out my notepad. “Tell me about all your favorite things.”

“Fucking your pussy.”

“I can’t decorate with that,” I said, tapping my pen on the notebook. “Your family never did anything for Christmas? We can mine a little Christmas nostalgia.”

“No.” His expression was dark.

“Okay,” I said brightly. “How about a little Christmas music?”

“I don’t have any Christmas music,” he said, shoulders tense.