Page 61 of The Santas Who Stole Me

Calum sinks into the armchair by the window.

“The death certificates; we pushed them through. Ezekiel Thomas died, same as all of us that day.”

“We did it, executed one of the exit plans, moved the tech company money around. Lee did her magic with the records. Clean start,” Calum adds, grinning at me and joining us on the end of the bed.

I know the exit strategy. It was one of many we made. You can only be assassins for so long before something goes sideways. With Georgie here, I’ve considered how this line of work would put her in danger. I bristle at the thought. Perhaps it’s best we stay dead. “What now?” I ask.

Georgie turns to kiss Calum, leans to kiss Keeper, then turns to me with a kiss before whispering against my lips. “Everything.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

GEORGIE

“It’s Christmas. Wake up my little Christmas cookie.”

The light flips on, and I shove my face into Zeke to try to hide in his shadows.

“Go back to sleep, Calum,” Zeke says pulling me closer to him, as much as his good arm will allow.

“Santa came Georgie, don’t you want to see?” Calum asks, his tone full of mischief.

“I prefer the Santas in my bed.”

“Exactly,” he says with a grin and a smack on my lips.

Zeke sighs and kisses my hair before releasing his hold on me. “Give us five minutes before you come down.” Calum extends a silent hand to help him stand since he refused the crutches.

“No peeking, Georgie, five minutes!” Keeper hollers from somewhere in the house.

I throw a pillow over my face to contain my giddy girl-squeal. Then I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and try to do something with the mess of my hair and duck in the shower. After the world’s fastest cleanup, my stomach buzzes with excitement when I step out, knowing I get Christmas with my men. A fluffy white robe is folded neatly and a red bodysuit draped on top is on the edge of the counter. It’s in the same place Calum left my workout clothes before, and the memory makes my heart speed up. Picking up the bodysuit with my fingers I bite my lip. The bra has a silk-lined underwire with two pieces of satin ribbon across the cups, tied in a bow. The width might cover my nipples. I slide it on realizing it’s crotchless. Two satin strips slide between the creases of my legs, and my pussy lips poke out. I shimmy my tits into the silky red material, certain that this was Calum’s idea.

I swipe my hand across the mirror and check my complexion. The purple on my face hurts to look at, so I put on some foundation and dab concealer despite the soreness. With a swipe of mascara and lip gloss, I shrug. It’s the best I can do. The thick cotton is so fluffy against my skin. I would consider curling back up in bed if my body wasn’t already humming in anticipation with what is downstairs waiting for me.

Thirty minutes later, I walk out of our room certain that it took longer than Keeper’s orders. For once, I’m not worried where my boots are. I don’t have to run ever again.

My feet barely hit the carpet on the last stair on my way to the living room. The Christmas tree is lit, and the LA sun beams through the back windows. The couch and coffee table have been moved, and when I round the tree I see why.

A large golden wingback chair has been placed in the middle of the living room. Zeke sits in the middle of the chair dressed in red velvet. He’s wearing the whole Santa costume down to his black boots but without the hat. I trail the fluffy white trim of his jacket from his collar. When my eyes sweep down to his lap, Zeke widens his legs and leans back in the chair in that sexy way men do when they know they have all the power. His elbow is bent on the arm rest, and he cocks his head to the side before leaning forward and palming his thick dick, outlined through the velvet pants.

My mouth waters at the sight.

“Georgia, come sit on my lap.” His voice is stern, but there is still warmth behind his words.

I hurry to meet his request. Am I rushing to get his dick? Yes, yes I am.

He puts his hand out in a motion for me to stop. “Lose the robe.” He winks at me.

“Yes, Santa.” I slowly untie the robe and let it drop to my feet and lick my lips. He takes a sharp breath, and I swallow hard as I wedge in between his legs and sit on the uninjured one.

Looking like a freaking model, he beams up at me as his finger strokes my left leg with the lightest touch. So light I would wonder if it even happened if it wasn’t for it being Zeke’s fingers. Anytime our skin touches it is electric.

“Georgia, have you been a good girl this year?”

“Yes, I’ve been a very good girl, Santa.”

That finger on the outside of my thigh inches up, but I don’t dare look away. This is what Zeke does. His intensity pulls you in, and you’re just trapped, willing to do anything for him.

“I’m not sure, she looks pretty naughty to me.” Keeper’s dark tone fills the dead silence of the room.