Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
They weren’t Mr. Abrams’s…type…were they?
I had too little to go on, but my boldness had taken a hike. Either way, Mr. Abrams had plans.
So this was where I decided to go get wasted.
“Why’re you leavin’ me already?” I managed to get out. “It’s only ten or something!”
“Mya went home an hour ago.”
I squinted toward the voice and felt myself being hauled up from my chair. God—lights. Everywhere. “Too bright.” The music had died too. People had gone home… Damn, was I the last one here? The cafeteria seemed empty.
“Where do you live?” the voice asked. “I’m taking you home.”
“Uh…” If I focused really hard, I… Wait, was that— “Mr. Abrams, is that you?”
“I’m glad your eyesight works. Here. Your other friend brought you your clothes before she left.”
Fuck. His words were too many and coming too fast for my brain to process them all. I screwed my eyes shut as the floor moved beneath me, and I scratched my head—which reminded me. I was clutching money in my other hand.
“They gave me a hundred bucks to wear only this tonight,” I said. “Now I’mma buy more yarn for Nana’s Christmas gift. Yarn’s more expensive than you think.”
“I see.” Mr. Abrams disappeared. Or he sat down on the other side of the table and held up my slacks. “Put on your pants, Parker. You can hold my shoulder for support.”
Nooo, not when he was finally here and didn’t have beautiful girls waiting for him. I wanted my moment. I could get dressed later. “I have a better idea. You were Daddy Christmas earlier but didn’t hear my wish.” I batted away the pants in his hands and plopped down sideways across his lap. “It’s Santa’s job to listen, and I’ve been a good boy all year.”
Mr. Abrams cursed and quickly glanced around us.
I found that funny. “Are you afraid someone’s gonna see us, Daddy Christmas?”
“Parker, this isn’t appropriate. You need to put your clothes on so I can take you home.”
That made me pout. “You don’t wanna hear my wish for Christmas?”
He sighed and gave me an impatient look. “Out with it, then.”
Yay! I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I just wanna wake up on Christmas morning with snow all around and a Daddy holding me tight.”
Was that too much to ask?
For the longest time, maybe two hours or four seconds, I didn’t hear a sound aside from the ringing in my ears and Mr. Abrams’s breaths. He still smelled so damn good. And felt good. Shame he wasn’t wearing his costume anymore. He’d changed back into his suit.
Then he swallowed and carefully put a hand on my back. “You’re cold. Please get dressed right this instant.”
I shivered at his warm touch yet didn’t feel cold at all. “It doesn’t feel cold.”
“Because you’ve had too much to drink,” he responded quietly. “Way too much.”
His low voice had a strange effect on me. Something that I didn’t even know had been buzzing erratically within me slowed down and enveloped me in peace and comfort.
It made me yawn.
“Maybe it’s time to wrap this party up,” I conceded. “No more candy cane Jell-O shots for me.”
“That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “In any and all scenarios. Candy cane Jell-O sounds terrible.”
I grinned a little and side-eyed him. “After four or five, they taste nice.”
“Four or five.” He shook his head and reached for my pants again. “Time to go, Parker. Tomorrow, when you’re sober, you can reflect on the possibility that you might have a problem with knowing when to stop drinking.”
“I have that problem with lots of things,” I chuckled and stood up. Whoa, had to steady myself on the table. “When I have fun, I just wanna keep having fun.”
“Hm.” He helped me step into my pants, ’cause that was trickier than most people believed. “Boundaries are good for you.”
“Boundaries are boring!”
“There’s no need to shout.”
“That wasn’t shouting. This is shouting. Bound—!”
He slapped a hand over my mouth with enough force to make me look up at him, eyes wide, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing at first. Mingling with the hot Daddy sternness was plenty of amusement, and it turned his blue eyes into pools of liquid sex.
“Behave, boy.” With another look of warning, he reached for my shirt.
I was in trouble.
DECEMBER 4
“I just wanna wake up on Christmas morning with snow all around and a Daddy holding me tight.”
My eyes flashed open.
“Behave, boy.”
Oh God.
“Stop being so difficult, Parker, and tell me your address. I’m trying to get you home safely.”
“Oh no,” I whimpered.
My sheets weren’t this nice. My bed was…softer than this.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
What had I done?
With my heart lodged in my throat, I scrambled out of bed and looked around me. Ouch—perfect time for a headache to just slam itself right into my skull.