Santa's Pet Read Online Free

expressions due to the heavy curtain of lustrous white beard, he seems to be suitably mortified. I guess I would be too, if my arousal were so evident. Not that I’ve had time to get aroused, since I thought he was Grandpa Powers. But still, I liked his hug too much for this to be anything but icky—considering who I thought he was.
    “I’m embarrassed.” I cross my arms to cover my breasts, and he quickly moves to adjust his pants.
    To my credit, I’m not looking either, although from the size of that boner against my leg, and all the muscles under the suit, this is one big boy.
    “Don’t be. You didn’t know I’d be here,” he reassures.
    “Where’s your grandfather? Is he okay?”
    “He’s fine, but not up to Santa duty. He said he’ll drop by a bit later.” Ben’s still staring in my eyes and I’m holding his gaze, determined not to be caught checking him out. “You’re definitely not Lacy. Are you her sister, Brittney? You look familiar, although …”
    “Although I’m all grown up?” A smile breaks through my mortification. “I remember you that summer before junior high school.”
    “I remember you too, always with a book. I hadn’t thought about you in ages.” His eyes flicker and even though the white beard covers the rest of his face, I detect a reddish glow of a blush under his eyes, which, by the way, are gorgeous and free of crow’s feet.
    Okay, at least he’s honest, and he’s definitely not flirting with me. I, however, have checked him out on social media from time to time. This guy’s a big shot. Not just typical tall, dark, and handsome, but very, very masculine—a hard hitting defensive linebacker—middle to be exact, but quick on his feet with large hands—brutal to quarterbacks and running backs alike. A football hero, and no, he never paid attention to me that summer. He and his brothers mostly followed sixteen-year-old Lacy around, bugging her and being rowdy, obnoxious hell raising boys.
    “Well, then, we’re even. I barely remember you,” I say as flippantly as I can. “Let’s forget about this. I’m too old to sit in Santa’s lap anyway.”
    “I’m not sure about that.” His fake beard moves under what’s most likely a mischievous grin. “You’re never too old when it’s the right Santa.”
    Now I’m blushing. Big Ben Powers could be flirting with me as if I were a real sexpot. He doesn’t know I’m impersonating a sexy elf. What would Lacy do?
    I bat my eyelashes and flip my hand at him. “Are you in the market for a pet? I’m sure we have the right one for you here.”
    “I’m sure you do,” he says, and this time, he’s definitely eyeing my double-delights. “I’ll take them both.”
    I bend toward him to give him an eyeful and whisper, “In that case, you need to fill out an application, but I wouldn’t bother, because I’m sure you won’t be approved.”
    He takes my hand and rubs my palm with his thumb. “I would be honored if you’d be my pet.”
    I jerk my hand from his gloved paw. He’s no different than any other man, only interested in petting my two chest-bunnies.
    “They might call you Bamm-Bamm on the field, but keep your club to yourself.”
    He winks, but is having trouble with a comeback. Glancing over my shoulder, he whispers, “Looks like we have an audience.”
    Oh no. There’s a line of children with volunteers holding various animals to be rescued, and they’re all laughing at the spat between me and Ben.
    The photographer, a tall guy nicknamed Sean the Pits, raises his arm and smirks my direction. “Don’t worry, Britt, I shot a roll of pictures of you on Santa’s lap. Twenty bucks a piece payable to Ragamuffin’s Rescue.”
    “I’ll pay you later.” I brush by him and bend over to speak to the first child in line, a girl holding a large, fluffy bird.
    “Is it true? Are you Santa’s Pet?” the girl asks.
    “Santa’s not getting a pet this year. He’s been a very bad boy,” I spout off as I