Jingle Balls Read online

  Miscalculating a man’s motivation was not a mistake Tanya had ever made before, and one she’d never make again.

  Eyes narrowed, she watched Richard turn and saunter to the center of the stage. His coat slid off his shoulders, down his back, and puddled on the floor. He flexed his biceps then his abs. The dark hair on his chest contrasted sharply with the white beard he wore.

  Dropping her cigarette, Tanya stepped on it, twisting her foot left then right. Then she turned and headed back to her office. Richard had a release form to sign before he left. And he was in such a hurry to get out of here that he probably wouldn’t look at it very closely. She’d have him spread-eagled against her wall, totally at her mercy, if it was the last thing she did.

  * * *

  “My, oh my, oh my, Jess. Just look at him!”

  Sighing, Jess pulled her attention away from the risqué prints hanging on the walls to the man posing on the stage. She glanced at him then back toward the print that initially had her attention then jerked her gaze back to the man on the stage.

  Santa Claus?

  He had to be kidding.

  At her side, Penny sighed. “Nick doesn’t have a chest like that. I can’t wait to see his… er… other parts.”

  Jessica rested her arms on the edge of the stage -- Penny had managed to wiggle her way to the front of the crowd with her sister in tow. Jessica still hadn’t figured out how, but the crowd of women had parted before them like a hot knife going through butter -- and watched as Santa Claus dropped his pants.

  “Oh, my, my, my!” Penny muttered, her hands clasped over her chest. “He’s wearing bells on his cock. Do you think I could get one of those for Nicholas?”

  Jessica ignored her sister and devoted her full attention to Santa. Damn, he was hot, hotter than any man she’d seen in -- well -- about a century.

  With one last shimmy, he kicked his pants off the stage into the shadows behind the curtain. As the chorus of “Jingle Bells” played for what had to be the twentieth time, he began to dip and gyrate. Jessica’s mouth dropped open as he jumped, spun in a circle, and landed solidly on slightly outspread feet. One thrust of his hips had the bells on his G-string jangling wildly.

  Penelope nudged her. “Close your mouth, Jess. You’re starting to drool.”

  Snapping her mouth closed, Jessica leaned closer. Damn, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a man this hot!

  Broad shoulders, a wide chest with a sprinkling of dark curls that tapered into a slim line down over his well-defined abdomen and flat stomach to disappear into the red and green G-string. His thighs were lean yet well muscled -- and long.

  Her gaze continued its journey down his long legs. Tight black boots with bells jangling from the cuffs hugged his calf muscles.

  “Have you ever seen such long legs?” Penny yelled into her ear. With the way the other women were screaming, Jessica wouldn’t have heard her otherwise.

  Jessica concentrated on the red and green pouch between Santa’s thighs. Was it really that big or had he stuffed it?

  She looked up into his face. Dark eyes concentrated on the wall behind her.

  That piqued Jessica’s curiosity. All the other dancers had made eye contact with the audience, winking and teasing. Santa, here, even though his performance was hot and sexy, slid close to the salivating women in his audience only now and then, presenting one hip or the other. The green of dollar bills they stuffed there contrasted nicely with the red strings gripping his hips. No money fluttered from the red and green pouch between his thighs, however. He was very deft at sliding away from eager hands.

  Jessica leaned back as he shimmied nearer and smiled. She was going to get a dollar into that pouch if it was the last thing she did.

  Chapter Six

  Jingle bells, jingle bells

  Jingle all the way.

  Oh what fun it is to ride

  In a one horse open sleigh.

  If I never hear this song again, it will be too soon. Richard deftly glided away from a woman who had tried to cup his jingling pouch. He whirled, took a step in the opposite direction, and faltered, covering his gaffe quickly with a dip and hip thrust. Holy fuck, that white-haired woman holding out a dollar and screaming how sexy he was, was Mrs. Fleeger, his mother’s next-door neighbor. What the hell was she doing here?

  Whirling again, Richard strutted away from the audience shaking his butt as he did so. Lifting his arms above his head, he shimmied and his bells jingled. As he lowered his hands, he double-checked to make sure his wig and beard were firmly in place. He also pulled his Santa hat further down over his forehead. Hell, if Mrs. Fleeger recognized him… What the hell was she doing here anyway? She had to be at least seventy-five.

  Spinning around, he leaped toward the opposite side of the stage. Fuck, wasn’t this damn song ever going to end?

  Jessica swallowed once, then once more. When Santa had turned around and she’d gotten a look at his ass, the finest ass she’d ever seen, she’d decided then and there she had to meet him. No, not just meet him, sleep with him, bed him, do a little mattress dancing with him, whatever anybody wanted to call it. Lust. She was in lust, and at her age, she knew better than to fight it, even if it only meant one night in the sack together -- which would probably be the case. No way would she meet Mr. Right in a male strip club. These guys were too wrapped up in themselves to be good happily-ever-after material. That didn’t mean she couldn’t have a rollicking good time in bed with one of them for a night or two.

  After shaking his ass -- once to the left and once to the right -- he clenched his cheek muscles, one at a time, one after the other, time after time. Holy shit. She didn’t know a guy could do that with his ass.

  Sucking in her breath, Jessica swallowed. Her nipples were pinpoints of delicate pain and moisture seeped between her thighs. She grasped the edge of the stage so tightly, her knuckles whitened.

  * * *

  Bells on bobtails ring,

  Making spirits bright.

  Oh what fun to ride and sing

  A sleighing song tonight.

  Richard sighed with relief. There it was, the slight change in tempo. One more run through of the song, then a final flourish to just the melody, and he’d be finished here for good.

  Leaping into the air, he spun around and pranced to the front of the stage, a smile on his face for the first time during his performance. He looked down at the crowd. Goodbye, ladies. It was nice taking your money, but I’m not going to miss you.

  A classy, well-dressed blonde winked at him and jerked her head to her left.

  His gaze traveled in the direction she’d indicated and locked on the woman at her side.

  He stumbled, caught himself, and stepped closer. Who was she? Standing there with her arms crossed under her breasts -- breasts with nipples straining against the soft wool of her pink sweater. Standing there with a come-hither look on her face.

  Come-hither look? Christ, Cassidy. You’re losing your mind.

  Still, she was good-looking, not drop dead gorgeous, but good-looking. Her mouth was too wide, her chin too prominent, the look in her eyes too obstinate. But they were beautiful eyes, a deep, chocolate brown with long dark lashes.

  He centered his gaze on the top of her head. Never had he seen hair color exactly like hers, thick yellow hair with rich golden and honey brown highlights.

  Damn, he’d like to bury his hands in all that hair while he buried his cock between her thighs. A quick fantasy flashed into his mind. She was naked beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

  Falling to his knees in front of her, he pumped his hips.

  Jessica smiled. Got you now, gorgeous.

  As Santa spread his thighs and thrust his hips forward to jingle his bells, she reached out and grabbed his pouch.

  “Nice -- bells -- Santa.” Then she stuffed the money she was holding down the front of his G-string, making sure she patted him as she did so. She grinned up into his face. “Yep, you got some n
ice bells, there, Santa. The North Pole feels pretty good too.”

  The pouch bells jangled when it snapped back into place.

  He leaned closer. His voice was low, intimate. “Sweetheart, you have no idea just how good the North Pole can feel. But if you’d like to find out, meet me in my dressing room.”

  Jumping to his feet, he whirled away and disappeared behind the curtain as the last strains of “Jingle Bells” drifted away.

  Shrugging into a robe, Richard pulled the hat, beard, and wig off, shoved them into the robe’s pocket, and stepped away from the curtain at the edge of the stage. After watching Zorro’s routine for a few minutes, the sexy blonde was talking to her companion, pointing toward the doorway that led backstage. He pumped his fist in the air. Yes! She was coming. The evening was definitely looking up.

  “A blonde with about a ton of honey-colored hair will be asking for me, Don. Send her back to my dressing room.”

  The stage manager grinned at him. “Sure thing, Rich. Saw her.”

  Chuckling, Richard clapped the other man on the shoulder. Things were definitely looking up. “Thanks, and it was nice working with you. If you ever get over to O’Reilly’s, tell them to give you a beer on me.”

  * * *

  When the lights went down again, and Zorro leaped into the spotlight in the middle of the stage, Jessica watched for a few minutes. His performance wasn’t nearly as arousing as Santa’s, in her opinion. Most of his routine consisted of thrusting his hips toward the women in the audience or turning around and bending over, inviting them to grab his cock and ass. She sniffed. No class what-so-ever. The Santa Claus was definitely far more interesting.

  Legs spread, Zorro slid across the stage, came to a halt before her, and pumped his hips.

  She curled her lip. Enough was enough. There was only one man here who interested her now.

  Jessica grabbed her sister’s wrist. “Come on. We’re gonna go meet Santa Claus.”

  Smiling, Penelope allowed herself to be pulled along. Things were proceeding exactly as planned. She tapped her watch three times.

  * * *

  When his wrist started to vibrate, Nicholas pulled his concentration from the British soccer game he was watching, and looked at his watch. Sighing, he clicked the remote and the television turned black. Best pay attention to the signals from his watch, or Penelope would never let him forget it. Scratching his belly -- it was expanding as it always did in December -- he rose and headed for the study. Time to hitch up Jessica’s dogs and send them home.

  His watch vibrated again. Stopping in the hall, he read the instructions scrolling across the tiny screen. Adjusting one of the ten knobs circling the face of his watch, he checked the time then sent a message back to Penelope. There. It was done. He just hoped his wife hadn’t gone too far with her meddling.

  At the top of the stairs, Sebastian meowed.

  Nicholas smiled. “Not to worry, my friend. The dogs are leaving -- now.”

  Still smiling, he shuffled down the hall and opened the study door. “Come along, Vicky,” he said as he patted the dog’s head. “Penelope needs you to go home now.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Richard. Richard!”

  Muttering curses under his breath -- Tanya was not the woman he wanted to talk to at this moment -- Richard halted in mid stride and turned to face her. “Look, I already told you, I will not sign an extension to my contact.”

  Shaking her head and grumbling something about thickheaded men, Tanya held out a pen and single sheet of paper. “I know, I know. I’ve given up. Honest. This is your release form.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Release form?”

  “It says your Zorro costume has been returned undamaged.”

  “Jeff’s wearing it now. Looked okay to me.”

  Flicking the ashes from her cigarette, Tanya shoved the paper toward him. “Just sign it, Richard. Then you can get the hell out of here which is what you’ve wanted since the first time you walked in.”

  A warm, husky voice drifted over Tanya’s cigarette smoke. “Excuse me? I’m looking for Santa Claus.”

  Richard smiled. His sexy blonde was here.

  Grabbing the paper and pen from Tanya, Richard started to scribble his signature.

  “Didn’t your mother tell you to read the fine print before you sign something, Richard, dear?” her companion said.

  His daydream of burying his hands in the sexy blonde’s hair as he kissed the breath out of her dissolved. Looking up, he blinked -- twice. “What? Who are you? How do you know my name?”

  The classy blonde nodded toward Tanya. “She just called you Richard. Now, before you sign that, read the fine print.”

  Hissing, Tanya spun around. “Get out. No one is allowed backstage.”

  Gazing over Tanya’s shoulder, Richard stared at the two women behind her, concentrating first on his sexy blonde. She was standing with her arms crossed under her breasts -- and very nice breasts they were -- her nipples staring at him. She was grinning at the other woman with her. Damn, but she was even prettier when she smiled.

  Her companion spoke again. “Really, Tanya, dear, you need to control your temper. And stop being so underhanded and devious. Honestly, you haven’t changed since you were a child.”

  Richard switched his attention to the classy blonde. The resemblance between them was obvious now. Sisters. They were sisters.

  Tanya stomped her foot. “Get out or I’ll call the bouncers. Here, Richard, sign this and you can get out of here.”

  The blonde shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, dear.”

  Richard frowned. What was that woman talking about? Glancing down at the sheet of paper, he perused it. It was a standard release form. Wait. What was that at the bottom of the page? Squinting, he read the fine print.

  “You bitch.”

  “Now, Richard, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep my best dancer, can you?” Tanya said as she dropped her cigarette and backed away holding her hands in front of her body.

  “You bitch,” he repeated as he stepped forward.

  The classy blonde laid her hand on his arm. “Let her be, Richard. Believe me, she’s already suffering. Unlike you, she’s all alone. I’m Penelope, by the way. This is my sister Jessica.”

  Ripping another cigarette from the case she always carried, Tanya lit it and inhaled. Blue smoke surrounded them as she exhaled. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Stomping her foot, she yelled, “Damn it, Don. Where are the bouncers? I want these two skanks out of here now.”

  That got more than a grin from his blonde -- Jessica, that was her name. Pretty name for a pretty woman.

  Jessica was sliding her sleeve up over her arm. “Skanks! Why you bitch. I’ll shove that stinking cigarette down your throat.” Clenching her hands into fists, she stepped toward Tanya.

  “Jessica, no!”

  Penelope moved to intercept her sister, but Richard was faster. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her back against his chest. Oh yeah! What an armful!

  “Let me go!”

  The sharp elbow in his ribs caused Richard to readjust his hold. Wrapping one arm around Jessica’s waist, he tried to grab his arm with his other hand to lock her against his chest. Instead, he grabbed a firm breast -- a real breast. No silicone in this baby. This was the real thing overflowing in his hand. He squeezed it.

  Her heel connected with his shin. “Let me go!”

  At Richard’s side, Penelope blew her bangs off her forehead and sighed. Some day, maybe in another hundred years or so, Jessica would finally learn to act like a lady. “Richard, why don’t you take Jessica to your dressing room. I’ll deal with Tanya.”

  As Richard hurried away with his squirming burden, Penelope reached into her skirt pocket, pulled out a small ball, and tossed it after him. As it arched above his head, she wiggled her fingers. The ball popped and a fine, white powder settled on both Richard and Jessica, became translucent, and disappeared.

&nbs
p; Almost immediately after, Richard slipped into his dressing room.

  The door slammed shut behind him.

  A satisfied smile on her lips, Penelope turned back to Tanya. “Now, then, young lady. You and I are going to have a talk.” Grabbing the other woman’s arm, Penelope propelled her toward her office.

  Once inside, Tanya stopped short. Penelope shoved her from behind, and she stumbled to a small settee, her eyes never leaving the two men standing next to her desk. Neither was more than four feet tall.

  Penelope sauntered over to the desk, wheeled Tanya’s chair out from behind it, and sat down. “Glad to see you got here on time, Hiram, Frank. Were you able to find what I asked for?”

  The little man in the red coat smiled and nodded. “Yep. Found the perfect match in San Diego.” Turning, he grabbed a pet carrier sitting on the floor behind him, lifted it to the desk, and opened the door.

  A scraggly, wire-haired dog with a torn ear and half a tail scampered out. Leaping across the floor to Tanya, the animal sat down in front of her and barked.

  She jerked her legs up onto the settee. “What the hell is that?”

  Penelope chuckled. “It’s a dog. I thought that much was obvious.”

  Snapping her gaping mouth shut, Tanya jerked her stare from the dog to Penelope. “Are you nuts? It’s… it’s…”

  “Ugly, you think? Nonsense. He just needs a bit of cleaning up.”

  “I don’t want him.”

  “Too bad. You’re responsible for him now. If you don’t take care of him, he’ll be hauled back into a shelter and euthanized.”

  Swallowing, Tanya stared at the dog. “But why?”