Page 41 of Merry Mischief List
A welcome shiver runs down my spine. “Why not?”
He glances at the “Santa,” whose realistic gray hair and definitely real beard are emphasizing the fact he’s at least seventy.
“You know what?” He rolls his lips together. “You wanna blow Grandpa Santa, go right ahead. I won’t get in your way.”
He steps away and folds those spectacular arms over his perfect chest.
“Good,” I clip. “I will.”
“Fine. Have fun.”
I glance around at all the kids and parents and consider this may not be the best setting for a Christmas hoe-down. After all, at least half of them haven’t quite had the chat about what Mommy and Daddy do under the covers at night. “But let’s wait until break, and then I’ll ask. Doing this with an audience of children may be borderline illegal.”
A deep laugh escapes Porter. “Glad you finally figured that out.”
We step to the side, and after another twenty minutes, Santa and the elves take their break. I shoot Porter a wink and saunter off, whipped cream in hand. An elf stands to the side with bright red hair and looks to be about twenty. Actually, I better ask his age before I let a fifteen-year-old make a sundae of my tits.
“Excuse me,” I say, tapping his shoulder. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen,” he says, with a curious smile.
Okay, legal, good to go.
“So I’m doing this winter bucket list thing. And…” I puff out my chest, which is highly visible in the low cut tank top I chose specifically for this endeavor. “One item is to have an elf lick whipped cream off my tits.” His mouth parts open, and I wiggle the whipped cream can. “I was wondering if you would like to do the honors.”
He glances behind me. “Umm… is your… boyfriend okay with that?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, waving Porter off. “Don’t worry about him.”
“Okay.” The elf chuckles nervously.
“So are you down?”
“Is this a joke?” He looks around. “Did my friends put you up to this?”
“What? No. Look…” I shake the can and open it, spraying the whipped cream across my chest. “Are you gonna lick it off or should I find another elf?”
His eyes drop, mouth practically salivating, and he dips down towards my chest. “I’ll do it.”
A hand grabs my bicep, and I’m tugged away before the elf can get a single taste.
“Damn it, I knew it was too good to be true,” I hear him whine as I’m spun around.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shriek as Porter drags me through the mall with his arm around my waist.
He remains silent, pausing by a small alcove and caging me into it.
“Porter,” I say, struggling for air. “What’s your problem?”
His eyes roam over me, landing on my still whipped-cream-covered breasts.
“I didn’t like the way Buddy the Elf was eye fucking you,” he says, tone low and gravelly.
“And why would you care?” I ask, holding my breath.
“The kid would’ve come in his pants if he got even the smallest taste of you. I was protecting the children of the mall from an act of public indecency.”
“Bullshit.”
