4. Ogar

Chapter 4

Ogar

O gar’s plan was in full effect. Her room looked amazing, and Willow didn’t have a clue. The wicked glee on his face as everyone was herded into the library for the party and not once did she look in the direction of her room. Grislow met the staff at the front of the library, welcomed them in, and the lights dimmed to a fun green and red. Golden sparkles danced around the room as a disco ball lit up from the center of the ceiling. Music bounced off the shelves. All the study desks were stacked at the back of the library, leaving the whole entry area free for activities. With the giant, plush couches everywhere, and the chairs left on the outskirts of the room, the library allowed people to sit down if they needed. Tables of food were set up with catering staff from a local restaurant.

Everyone went for the food first. Free grub was free grub.

Then, it became a free for all. There was no set rule for when someone could hand over their gift to someone else, just that it had to be that night. Ogar planned to smoothly make his way over to herand weasel her away from other coworkers, as to steal as much of her reaction for himself as he could.

However, as he and Ricky were lingering near the librarian’s desk, chatting about nothing really, Willow stormed up. It’d only been about an hour. Ogar froze, eyebrows up to his horns as she stuffed a large, wrapped present in his chest.

“Here, now, just hand me the gift card so I can get on with it.”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa.” He laughed sheepishly. The card with a bow on it in his back pocket suddenly weighed a hundred pounds. “Who says I got you?”

“You did. The other day. Well, you alluded to it. Alluded means you suspiciously hinted at it. Do you want me to define suspiciously or hinted too?” She crossed her arms under her chest, cocking out a hip.

Ogar tried not to ogle her in public, but come on! That dress? She had to wear that dress today? It hugged her curves, dipped around her pretty shoulders, and was just low enough on her thighs to make him imagine what brushing it up her body would feel like. Then she opened her mouth, and he couldn’t help the warmth blooming in his chest or the situation that was hardening near his pelvis.

“I know what alluded means, thanks,” he huffed, straightening out to keep his cock from becoming the centerpiece of their conversation.

“Then where is it?”

He could have handed it to her right then, she was prepped and ready to blow up at him and make his plan go into effect. But then his gaze fell to the perfectly wrapped rectangle in his hands. “What’s this?”

“A present, didn’t think I needed to spell it out for you.”

“Well, spelling is your job,” he teased. “What’s in it?”

“Ruins the surprise if I tell you.” She glanced down at the box as if to usher him along. Hurry up.

His stomach turned into a knot before he ripped the paper clean off the box. Ricky stifled a laugh as he tossed it over his head, and it caught on his horns. It would have been funny if the second he opened the flimsy box he didn’t see lace.

Black lace, elegant and soft, with little holly berries and wreath designs running through it. All of the trimmings leading to the mistletoe at the bottom.

The world went silent. Ogar held up a flimsy, but sexy one piece that was clearly not going to fit his brick wall ass. No, it was strangely Willow sized. He licked his lips, his attention jumping to her face.

Willow hissed, “No! No, it’s supposed to be…”

“So,” he couldn’t help the shit-eating grin on his face as Ogar held it up against his chest. “This isn’t for me?”

Her face, despite the highlighter and holly berries and freckles, went pale. She went to snatch it from him, but Ogar crumpled the fabric up in his fist and held it as far back as he could. She yelped, “Give it, that’s not for you.”

“But it’s my present. How thoughtful, I’ve needed a new one piece.”

“Ogar!” she growled, jumping weakly in those cute little ankle boots. As if she could possibly get to it without climbing him like a tree. However, their antics were cut short as the principal appeared to their left.

“Ms. Bronte, I noticed you left another box in my office. I’ve left it on your desk for safekeeping. Mr. Manitelle, please, no school-yard games. Evening!” Their red headed, jolly principal bowed his head and slithered past them to a new unsuspecting victim.

Ogar and Willow stared at each other for a long moment before her cheeks ignited in red. She stomped off.

“Dude,” Ricky snickered. Ogar didn’t have time to explain himself to his coworker, nor did he have time to put his actual plan into action. It was go-time.

“Wait!” Ogar bellowed, rushing to catch up with Willow. She was already out the library doors and storming straight toward her door.

“No!”she roared, not even bothering to look over her shoulder.

“Willow, please, wait!” He laughed, jogging to catch up with her.

Despite his teasing, he was going to give it back to her. Clearly it had been an impulse purchase. Things happen. He wasn’t about to steal her pretty lingerie; it definitely wouldn’t fit him even as a joke. He’d snap the straps off before stuffing all his fluff into it, let alone his shoulders. But, come on, he couldn’t not tease her about it! She handed him a package so high and mighty about his usual present… and it was lingerie!

Ogar stopped an inch behind her as she froze in her doorway. Hands gripping the frame, muscles engaged, she was speechless. Smirking, he leaned closer to her ear, “You like it?”

“You… you did this for me?” Her words came out shy and confused. Stumbling into her room, she spun around slowly.

Ogar reveled in the twinkle in her eyes as she saw the giant rug at the center. All of the desks were arranged around it. He’d even rearranged the bookshelves to be easier to access at the back of the room. Her desk was now beside a cube organizer and a new drawer unit, anything she could need. And he’d had enough silver left over to replace some of the stuff on her desk, like her keyboard and mouse pad to match.

“Not bad for a meat-head, huh?” He slid through the door, shutting it behind him. Willow turned to face him, her fists shaking. His lips curled into the biggest, toothiest grin as he dangled the one piece for extra bait. “Now, as I was saying, is this for me or?”

“ You fucking know that’s not for you! ” She bolted in his direction.

Ogar was shoved into the door at full force as she tried to snatch it from him. He held it up higher and higher, even going up on his tippy hooves while she jumped and struggled to grab it from him. Ogar fully intended to give it back after he got his fill of her muttering curse words and the delightful sight of her fingers wiggling in effort. But she didn’t give in, not his girl.

Willow grabbed him by the shoulders, hoisted herself up like a master gymnast, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He sank, body loose in shock as she clawed his arm down and snatched the fabric from him.

“You’re going to rip them! And for the price I paid, you better not get them stuck in your horns, you big lummox!”

His hands moved of their own free will. Because, frankly, his brain went offline. They scooped up her backside and held her firmly to him. Her legs squeezed him . Spine straight and their eyes locked, words spilled from his mouth. Raw, salacious things that came deep in his chest.

“Now, now, Ms. Bronte. I see, my gift is to see you in it. How thoughtful, just what I wanted.”

“What?” her breathy, raspy return ran shivers down his spine.

Ogar spun them, pinning her back to the sliver of brick wall between the doorframe and the white board. She was breathing heavily, her gaze falling to his mouth for only a moment, but that was all the permission he needed. His lips crashed onto hers. Grinding his hips against hers, her legs squeezed tighter . One of her hands tangled in the hair behind his head, tugging on it. He groaned into her kiss.

It did indeed feel glorious to slide that dress up the back of her thighs. To grip her in his palms and feel her shiver.

She broke the kiss first, gulping down air. Her puffy red lips were a marvelous wonder. But a sweet giggle fell from them, “I did actually get you something. I was just—the day you stopped in, I was shopping and maybe went down a rabbit hole, and got myself something.”

“Mmm, you mean got us something,” he hummed, sparing a hand to the one still vice gripped around the fabric. Unfurling her fingers, he held up the piece just by the mistletoe. “Don’t tell me you didn’t hope someone would kiss you under the mistletoe, I mean, it’s tradition.”

Her mouth dropped open and he could see the wheels turning in her head. First, her doe eyes snapped to the door, then to her desk that was still practically empty of any work, then to the rest of the room. Her voice trembled, “We can’t. We’re at work.”

“The handbook says the staff party is not considered work. We’re not getting paid, there are no students around, there’s a lock on your door, and a shade I just installed.” He slid back from the wall, easing her onto her feet. “Tell you what. I’m going to face the door, draw the shade, lock it, and count to thirty. You have till then to decide if I’m kissing you under the mistletoe or if I’m just kissing you.”

Normally, he wasn’t a play games kind of lover. But as he turned to pull the shade, she was already undoing her belt. He tracked the sound of her heels as he slowly locked the door handle.

“You’re not counting.”

“That’s my girl. One.” He closed his eyes. He could hear every inch of fabric as she moved about. Then her boots as they were taken off. Ogar almost didn’t finish counting as he felt a tap on his shoulder, “Twenty-nine … thirty.”

He turned around and couldn’t believe his eyes. She was stunning, wrapped up in a lacy bow. Ogar stalked forward, following her step by step to her desk. A little squeak left her lips when her backside ran into the wood. He smirked, devouring every inch of her with his eyes.

It held her breasts in wonderous little cups with circular wreaths around her nipples. Like it was painted on, it ran down her stomach and directed his attention to the vibrant, stitched on applique of mistletoe just above her exposed cunt. Ogar didn’t realize he was gently stroking her legs with the tips of his fingers till he felt the breakout of goosebumps along her skin.

“Now, what was that about kissing under the mistletoe?” Her face and body language as she pulled herself onto the lip of the desk said she was confident. The crack in her voice and tremble of her hands as she grabbed him by the front of his shirt said she was nervous.

Ogar sank immediately to his knees before her, hooking her legs over his shoulders. Then, for added delight, he purposely moved her hands to be around his horns. Her lips curled up into a giddy smile as she gave them a test tug. He let her lead him to her inner thigh at first. Kissing up the seam of her leg, eliciting a dreamy sigh from her. Then she moved his head to the other side, up her thigh he went until he left a playful kiss against the mistletoe.

It's tradition. He couldn’t help the pleased smile on his lips as he kissed underneath it.