7. The Night Before Christmas

SEVEN

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

DOVE

I t’s the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring because I’d taken a sleeping pill otherwise I’d have been up all night, thinking about Officer Coleman.

Derek .

He told me to call him Derek .

And that was after he said to get used to calling him mine .

With the taste of his mouth left on my lips, he took a kiss from me, then he took his leave. With a wink and a hint of a dimple in his cheek, the gorgeous cop backed out of the alley, then gestured for me to do the same. He stood in the shadows while I ducked my head, racing for my car, then disappeared into the night.

A cruiser chased me all the way back to my apartment building, my very own one-man procession. He didn’t turn the sirens on, but he didn’t have to. I saw him in the rearview mirror, and nearly shit myself the whole time.

What the fuck? Nadine swore that I’d never have to worry about getting busted. Most of our customers are harmless; so long as they get their Eclipse, we’re in no danger. And if they try anything funny, the rumors of what the Libellula Family due to anyone who crosses them are legendary in Springfield.

So are the stories about the crooked cops in the city.

As far as I know, they’re almost all on the take. So long as they’re aware I’m not dealing without the Dragonflies’ knowledge, they’ll look the other way if they see an Eclipse buy going on. It’s happened to me at least two or three times before. Most cops don’t even want to get involved, whether they’re dirty or not. If they see a buy, they act as if they don’t.

Not Officer Coleman.

For a split second, I thought I might’ve found one of the few good cops that exist in Springfield. Instead of slipping back out of the alleyway once he realized what he interrupted, he actually threatened to arrest me. I really believed I’d be spending my Christmas Eve in booking, too, until he decided to make a ‘deal’ with me.

Men .

I expected to be pushed up against the brick wall and fucked by a cop. If he wasn’t interested in that, then he probably would be down to have me on my knees in front of him, sucking him off.

Oh, no. He wanted a kiss, and after I was safe inside of my apartment building again, I realized that I was the one who desperately needed to be fucked.

Can you blame me? The call from one of the mayor’s new aides who needed enough Eclipse to get him through to the new year was a call I couldn’t ignore. That particular aide is responsible for a third of the down payment hidden under my mattress. Not only would I piss off Sammy and his guys if I let Martin go to voicemail just so I could orgasm real quick, but if he decided to go with a new plug, there went my hope of getting my studio anytime soon.

Martin is one of the customers who needs to meet in a discreet corner of Springfield. He won’t go to Waverly’s where he might be recognized, and I get that. So I met him at the alleyway that rarely gets any foot traffic, prepared to give him his baggie and get back to my Christmas present.

I was so damn close before. That dildo was hitting just the right spots, and I was so turned on that I neglected my clit in favor of grabbing my sheets, rocking back and forth on the mounted toy.

I needed a little stimulation, but I never got it before the phone rang and, frustrated yet knowing I couldn’t refuse the call, I made arrangements to meet with Martin.

I planned on returning to my apartment and finishing what I started. After my strange and admittedly charged run-in with Officer Coleman, I was so relieved that he let me go, I was able to overlook how horny I still was in favor of reliving the encounter over and over again.

I can’t believe it took me so long to recognize him. I still flinch when someone raises their voice at the studio in Waverly’s after what happened last summer. It took weeks for my black eye to disappear, and while I felt bad having to press charges against that one chick, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t develop a tiny crush on one of the cops who was there to arrest her.

There were two of them. One with piercing blue eyes and something about him that made me nervous, and a taller one with sandy brown hair and soft green eyes who was incredibly kind to me. The second guy was gorgeous . When he smiled at me, my belly went nervous, and all I could think about was the dimple in his cheek.

Of course, I never expected to see him again. Buff, attractive cops like him don’t fall for girls like me—kind of boring, stuck in a dead-end job, whose only saving grace is how nice her tits and ass are. So I crushed over him for a few weeks, but by the time my black eye was gone, I’d completely forgotten all about him?—

—until he showed up in the alleyway earlier tonight and kissed me.

I was so stunned by what happened, I couldn’t even think about returning to the dildo after I shuffled into my bedroom. I just barely remembered to take it off the wall, give it a good, solid wash, tuck it in my dresser drawer underneath the Eclipse that started this whole mess, and swallow my sleeping pill dry, all while hoping like hell that Christmas Day will be a whole lot better than the night before it…

Either I’ve become immune to the effects of my sleeping pill or the fact that my nerves were so sky-high before I swallowed it did something to make it less effective, I’m not sure, but I don’t sleep through the night like I’m used to.

Some might think it’s the childish excitement that Christmas is coming. Like when you can’t fall asleep because you’re listening for the sound of reindeer hoofs on your roof, or for sleigh bells echoing through the nights’ sky during Santa’s midnight ride. As you get older, it’s the promise of the presents waiting for you under the tree, whether they’re from some jolly home invader or the parents who want to keep you young and believing for longer than you will.

Then, one day, you grow up and Christmas is just another day. Oh, it’s nice because you don’t have to work, and it’s time with the family, but it’s really the culmination of a million things you had to accomplish to get to that point: the shopping, the wrapping, the Christmas cookies, the cards you mailed out… on Christmas Eve, you pass out from the exhaustion, then wake up the next morning, knowing you’ll do it all over again in a year’s time.

I planned on sleeping in. I deserved it after the season I had, dealing with Jerry and entitled parents, plus the naughtiest children in Springfield. There were so many nice ones, too, but after the hustle and bustle of the last six weeks, I remember the ones throwing the tantrums far more than the ones who hugged Jerry sweetly and said ‘thank you’ to all of us elves.

I planned on sleeping in—but the moment the sleeping pill wears off and I blink myself awake, I roll over, ready to fall right back into unconsciousness when I see a pair of familiar deep green eyes staring back at me.

I have Christmas lights in my bedroom. They frame my window, and on most nights, I remember to turn them off before I go to sleep. I didn’t tonight, obviously, and in their glow, I can tell just what color his eyes are.

Or maybe that’s just my dreams—my fantasies—about my secret Santa making me see his eyes that color as I look at…

At…

Holy shit. I yip, scrabbling backward, grabbing my covers as I hurriedly sit up, my back against the headboard.

There’s a man in my bed. Not just any man, either. I was fooling myself before. Though the lights shed enough illumination on his face for me to recognize that hard jaw, that slight smirk, that fucking dimple , it’s too dark in my room to tell if his eyes are brown or green or hazel.

Does it matter? This isn’t my secret Santa.

It’s Officer Coleman!

He’s stretched out on my bed, lying on his side, about a foot separating him from where I was sprawled out on my back, fast asleep. The cop’s propped up on one elbow, turned so he can see me slumber, and I don’t know what freaks me out more: that he somehow followed me to my apartment building, figured out which apartment on the sixth floor was mine, and broke in to join me in my bed this Christmas Eve… or that he did all of that while wearing a Santa suit.

No Santa hat. No boots. No beard, either. It doesn’t matter about the details, or if I can pick out the colors on his clothing in the shadows of my room. His suit is distinctive, down to the fluffy white cuffs and the dark belt around his waist.

Holy shit. It is a Santa suit.

But not my stalker. Not my secret Santa. He can’t be. This man is a cop —but that doesn’t change the fact that his lips curve into a wicked grin as he watches me scoot so frantically away from him, I nearly end up sliding across the sheets. I hit the headboard before I land on my ass on the floor, then gape down at him.

His grin widens. “Merry Christmas, precious.”

“Officer Coleman? What are you… How did you… No. You have to get out. Now!”

He tuts. “Dove, Dove, Dove… don’t tell me you forgot already.” He pushes himself up, sitting in the middle of my bed in a goddamn Santa suit . “Call me Derek.”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment, Derek !”

“And waste the opportunity I’ve been given? No. I don’t think so.”

“Opportunity?” I gasp out. “What opportunity?”

Officer Coleman— Derek inches closer to me. “Do you know how many nights I’ve stretched out on your bed just like that, watching you sleep, wishing you’d open your eyes and notice me there? I always had to leave before you did, but tonight… I thought I’d have to wait until Christmas Day for you to see me the way that I see you, precious. But this is my very own Christmas miracle because here I am. No more hiding. No more watching. No more”—our thighs touch—“ secrets .”

Secrets.

Santa.

No. No . It can’t be…

Wait.

How many nights I’ve stretched out on your bed just like that…

“Are you…” My voice catches. I swallow roughly. “What do you mean? You’ve never been here before.”

Even as I say that, I get a whiff of something so familiar, my stomach tightens.

That cologne. I know that cologne.

I’ve smelled it in my apartment way too many times before, and if he’s been in my personal space like he claimed, that would explain it.

But why ?—

“How did you like my presents, Dove?”

It takes me a second to catch up to the way he changed the subject. “Your presents?”

Presents.

Christmas presents.

Santa.

Secrets…

No. I’m sorry, but no fucking way. It… it can’t be. Of all the men I’d ever suspected could be the Santa stalking me, it never occurred to me that it was Officer Coleman. Why would it? Even after what happened tonight…

“I don’t understand.” The words slip out, shaky and unsure. “I just… I don’t get it.”

“Don’t you?” He gestures at his suit. “I didn’t think I could make it any more obvious. You have to know who I am.”

In a way, I do. He’s the cop who caught me dealing Eclipse earlier, and who kissed me before letting me go. He’s the cop who lost me a sale tonight, and since Martin didn’t respond to my texts up until I went to bed, I’m not sure he’ll risk getting caught again, coming back to do another buy.

Who is this man? He’s a cop wearing a Santa suit who broke into my bedroom and just admitted that it isn’t the first time.

And if it isn’t the first time…

A nervous lump lodges in my throat. I can’t speak. I don’t even have the strength to get up and bolt. Not just because I slept naked last night—which I have a habit of doing that I’m sincerely starting to regret right about now—and don’t want to put on a show for him, but because the way he’s watching me so closely, I’ve never felt more like prey.

He’ll chase. If I run, he’ll chase, and I’m suddenly terrified about what will happen when this predator catches me.

Terrified, and way more intrigued by the idea than I have any right to be.

Makes sense, a terrible, twisted sort of sense. I’ve always been attracted to this man. In a million years, I never thought I’d be in a position to share a bed with Officer Coleman, but now he’s here, he’s moved so that our faces are now inches away from each other, and I can’t avoid the hungry expression on his face as his eyes rove over mine.

And that’s when he starts to sing softly.

“‘He sees you when you’re sleeping…’” Derek’s hand lands possessively on my thigh. Even through the covers, I feel the heat of his hand. “‘He knows when you’re awake…’”

I’m awake right now. I pinch myself just in case, but nope. I’m awake, and this is really happening?—

“‘He knows when you’ve been bad or good…’” Derek turns into me, so close it wouldn’t take much for me to end up in his lap as he continues in his sing-song tone: “And though he likes it when you’re his good girl, nothing makes him crazier when you’re—” He brushes his lips against my ear, huskily whispering the last word: “ naughty .”

If I move any further away from him, I’ll fall out of my bed. If I move closer, I really will be in his lap.

I clutch my blanket to my chest and stay perfectly still as I demand, “Stop with the riddles and answer me: what are you doing here?”

His gaze dips downward. “Don’t think you have to cover up, sweet Dove.” Reaching out, Derek plucks the blanket out of my tight fingers, pulling the material just far enough away that he can peek down it, getting an eyeful of my tits. He nods in approval, then adds, “I’ve already seen it all anyway. Seen it and can’t fucking wait to get my mouth on every inch of you.”

“What? How?”

He smirks, nodding down at his Santa suit. “Remember? I see everything . Santa does, and with the help of a little technology, so does Derek.”

Everything…

Technology…

Cameras .

What the fuck is wrong with me? I knew I had a stalker. Someone who was following me around the city and leaving me gifts.

Not to mention the fact that I’m a photographer. Cameras are my life . No way could someone use them against me—but what else could he mean by technology?

I have to ask. I have to know. “Are there cameras? Did you bug me?”

“I did whatever I had to to watch over my precious Dove whenever I couldn’t be with you in person. Whether it was following you from a distance or keeping tabs on you through my phone, I did it so that I knew you were safe until I could make you see that we were meant to be together.”

I take that as a yes .

“You’ve been stalking me? Why?”

“Because you’re mine,” is his simple retort. “How many times do I have to tell you that before you stop doubting me?”

I don’t think I ever could. “How long?”

“Mm? Sorry. I got distracted by your tits. They’re impressively gorgeous. And those nipples… fuck . I can’t wait to suck them.”

Oh my God. I didn’t even realize that, after he pulled the covers away from my chest, he let go of them, so did I, and they pooled around my waist. For the last few minutes, I’ve been sitting here, tits out, all while this crazed cop—because, holy shit, he’s nuts —is trying to convince me that he’s decided I somehow belong to him.

And not just after that kiss we shared tonight. But before then.

I throw my arm over my chest. “How long have you been stalking me?”

He sighs. “I guess sucking is off the table for now. Fair enough. So long as I can feel your sweet pussy squeezing my cock tight, I can wait to enjoy the rest of you. After all, I’ve been waiting for this moment for six months. What’s a little longer?”

“Six months?” I say, the words strangled. Six months… that really does take me back to the big fight at Waverly’s, and the time Officer Coleman and his partner came in to break it up. “There’s no Santa in June!”

“Of course not. But, believe me, Dove, while Santa has come to town this December, Derek’s been watching you a lot longer than that. And, now, it’s about time he gets to come, too.”

I grab the blanket, covering myself back up. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

Look at that. I actually sound like I mean it.

I have to mean it. It was one thing to think about letting him bend me over in the alley. I could tell myself I was just doing what I had to to survive, to keep from one cop using my side hustle against me. Sex with a hot cop I’d been attracted to once-upon-a-time? I had to do it to stay out of jail… right?

But everything’s changed now. He’s not a cop. He’s my secret Santa. He has to be. So what if Derek hasn’t come out and admitted to that just yet. Does he really have to? Who else has sent me presents? Who else has followed me around, wearing a Santa suit just like that?

Who else has deep green eyes like his…

“Why not?”

Is he serious ? “Maybe because I don’t know you? You want me to believe you’ve been watching me for months… that you have cameras in my apartment… that you’d risk breaking the law yourself because… well, I really don’t understand why except you might be out of your mind… but I’m not going to just sleep with you because you want me to.”

“What if you want to?”

Fuck. I shouldn’t want to. I can’t .

“Please go.”

Derek ignores my plea. “I don’t see what the issue is, Dove. I’m attracted to you.” As if I need proof of that, he reaches down, grabbing his dick through his thick red pants. Using his hand, he outlines the thick bulge, and as freaked out as I am by this whole night, I can’t help but look. “You can tell me that you’re not attracted to me, but I won’t believe you. I’ve seen you. You’re no prude. You like pleasure. Let me give it to you.”

I shake my head.

“Why not?” he repeats. “You’ve already fucked me.”

I have not. Unless?—

With a look of pure disgust directed at him, I can’t help but cry out, “You slept with me while I was unconscious?”

Thankfully, Derek looks just as disturbed that I would even suggest that.

He squeezes my thigh with his other hand, and a jolt of pure arousal floods my veins courtesy of my traitorous body. “Precious Dove, I’m a prick, but I’m not a sick fuck. If we’re having sex, we’re having it together. I need you awake and completely aware who it is that’s bending your knees up around your head.”

The image suddenly pops into my brain, and I shudder involuntarily. I’m a bigger girl, but I’ve always been impressively flexible. My knees up around my head as he bangs me? Yes, please?—

Wait.

No.

No .

He’s a cop. A gorgeous one with a dimple that has me going weak in the same knees I wouldn’t mind bending for a guy like Officer Coleman if it wasn’t for one tiny little thing: he’s a cop who is smirking at the idea that he’s done a B&E, breaking into my apartment while I slept.

At least he didn’t shove his dick inside of me while I was under the influence of one of my sleeping pills. Now, granted, I have to actually believe he’s being honest with me, that he’s telling the truth when he says he hasn’t taken advantage of me before tonight, but since I think I would’ve noticed an ache in my pussy the morning after if he had … I should be able to trust him on that.

Anything else?

No fucking way.

You’re supposed to be able to trust the police. When I first moved to Springfield, I did. But the longer I’m in this city, the more I struggle to trust anyone—and Derek gives me a good reason not to when he squeezes my thigh one more time before sliding down to the edge of the bed, rising to his bare feet, and walking over to my bedroom dresser.

Now it’s my heart that lodges in my throat as he pulls open a drawer.

Is he searching for my Eclipse stash? I hid it, but not very well, and if he’s looking to do a drug bust, I’m the perfect target.

But though he pushes aside the gift bag stuffed with countless baggies, each holding the tell-tale white powder in them, he keeps groping around in my drawer until he makes a soft sound in the back of his throat.

I hear it, but it’s quickly drowned out by the tinkling of bells as he pulls the red sex toy out of my drawer.