Playing Mrs. Claus for the town festival should be a simple task
Cute dress, sugar cookies, smile.
I’ve got this down.
Except the guy playing Santa is my Dad’s Best Friend.
He’s big, older, inked, and we’ve already tried this once.
We agreed we shouldn’t want each other.
We agreed this doesn’t work.
Yet, here I am picturing all the things he could do to me with that candy cane.
Here I am, thighs shaking every time he walks in the room.
My father would kill me,
He’d kill him too,
So then why am I hoping Santa comes back for more?
Author’s Note: This short story features a possessive, obsessive, touch‑her‑and‑die older hero, an age gap, and a forbidden dynamic that gets messy fast. Ultra-high heat, no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed HEA.
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