Good Elf Gone Wrong: A Holiday Romantic Comedy
Good Elf Gone Wrong: Chapter 30

“Tonight,” I whisper-shrieked to Dakota.

We were in James’s house, the big Victorian home that he and I were supposed to be living in if the wedding had actually happened.

“Good thing you’re all waxed and ready to go,” my cousin teased as she helped me measure out the yards of garland.

I made a face.

“Gran’s friend did a great job,” Dakota said. “I’ve booked an appointment with her.”

I felt like getting a full Brazilian bikini wax in the living room of an elderly woman with poor eyesight was not one of my better moments.

“She has muscle memory. Also she was so cheap.” Dakota picked up a box of candles and headed into the living room. “You can’t waste the pain. You need to do the deed with Hudson.”

“I can’t have sex with him tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not ready.”

“Don’t be scared,” my cousin said. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It feels like a big deal. Being a virgin was something I was proud of. It meant I had self-control, that I was a better person than my sister because I was saving myself for marriage. If I lose it to Hudson, that’s bad. We’re not in a committed relationship. We don’t even like each other. Hudson’s not even attracted to me.”

“First of all, let go of the toxic patriarchy. You are still valuable even if you’re not a virgin. Don’t believe any of that used-gum bullshit,” Dakota lectured. “Second, a guy doesn’t tell a woman he wants to come all over her cunt if he doesn’t think she’s at least mildly attractive.”

“If he thought I was someone worthy of him, he wouldn’t use that kind of language,” I said as I smoothed out a table runner.

“He’s just trying to get your engine revving, make sure you’re loosey-goosey enough to fit that weapon he’s hiding in his pants.”

“This is too much for me,” I said, pulling an emergency stash of Christmas cookies out of my purse. They were the bad ones, where the icing looked a little wonky or they were a little too crispy. But a cookie was a cookie, and I needed a cookie.

“I don’t know what to do, where to put my arms. What if I make weird noises?” I stuffed a sad-looking Santa in my mouth. “This is a terrible idea. Hudson is going to laugh at me.”

“You always jump to the worst-case scenario.”

“Because the worst-case scenario always happens,” I wailed. “I’m not meant to be in a relationship. It always ends in disaster and heartbreak.”

“You only had two and a half real relationships,” Dakota reminded me. “That’s hardly enough to be statistically significant.”

I reached for another cookie. “Oh my god, where did all these cookies go? Pugnog, did you eat them?”

The dog whined.

Dakota gave me a pointed look.

“I think we need some wine,” she said. “Let’s see what James is hiding in his wine cellar, Pugnog.”

I chewed on my hair as I climbed up the ladder to hang garland and glass ornaments on the oversized antique chandelier in the living room. I remembered picking out this chandelier, imagining the Christmas mornings it would preside over. Now I was just the hired help. No, not even that. I wasn’t getting paid for any of this.

James and Kelly were going to have a beautifully decorated home. Everyone was going to congratulate them on it and tell Kelly what a wonderful job she had done with the party, and I was going to stand all alone in the corner. Just like when I was a teenager and Kelly had always been the center of attention. She was the pretty daughter; I was the good daughter, the one who everyone could ignore because they knew I’d always do whatever was asked of me.

The ladder wobbled as I climbed up to the next step, not quite tall enough to drape the garland nicely to the chain where it hung from the plaster ceiling.

Maybe I wouldn’t quite be alone at the party. Hudson would be there, right?

Who was I kidding? He was going to flirt with Kelly the whole time, just like all the guys. Then he was going to take my virginity, realize that he might as well fuck a dead fish, then go back to Kelly. Shoot, I bet he would break up her marriage then decide that he wanted her to himself after all and whisk her away in a romance-movie-worthy ending while I was left sad and alone to pack up another failed wedding.

I sniffed as I reached, trying to hook the garland on a bronze arm.

“Gracie, get down from there,” a deep voice cut through my self-pity session.

I screamed, and the ladder wobbled dangerously then steadied. I peeked down to see Hudson holding the ladder in place.

“Gracie, what in God’s name are you doing? You could get hurt.”

“I’m a pro at decorating.”

“I don’t care. Get down. I’ll do it,” he said flatly.

I sighed loudly and climbed down.

Hudson grabbed me around the waist and set me down on the floor then took the rest of the garland and ornaments from me.

“I came to make sure you didn’t chicken out,” he said in a low voice when he’d finished decorating the chandelier.

“No. You came to decorate,” I said stubbornly.

Gray eyes narrowed.

“I wasted hours in the living room of a seventy-year-old woman with a collection of reborn dolls, getting waxed in places no one should ever be waxed, just for you. Then I had to recover from said Brazilian wax, and now I’m behind schedule. So you’re going to help.”

“Bossy.” He smirked. “But I’m glad to see you’re following orders.”

He easily picked up the heavy box of Christmas knickknacks. I trotted after him into the dining room.

“Yes, let’s talk about that. I don’t need you ordering me around like that anymore. You can’t just tell me what to do with my body,” I snapped at him, nerves frazzled. “Get the other side of this table. I need it moved closer to the wall.”

Hudson pushed me out of the way and easily picked up the table to move it where I wanted.

“The fact that you were practically coming on my hand earlier, in your dad’s office, with your tits hanging out makes me think that I can tell you to do whatever I want.”

“Asshole.”

“You hired me for all my positive qualities,” he said, setting the table down.

I spread a white tablecloth out on it and fished in the box for holiday figurines.

“You can’t just tell a woman to shave down there because you like it.”

“You’ll like it too,” he countered. “I can’t wait to run my tongue in your slick pussy. From the way you’re panting, your tits practically popping out of your shirt, you can’t wait either.”

“Are you serious about tonight?” I lowered my voice. It trembled slightly.

Something flickered in his eyes.

“I could soothe you and pet you and tell you of course not, that you can have sex when you’re ready to, that I’ll be gentle and go at your speed,” he said in a mocking tone, “but I’m doing you a favor. Besides”—he dipped his head down to press a kiss to my neck—“once I have you on your knees, legs spread, pussy dripping, all your little insecurities are going to fly away along with your clothes. You’ll be begging for my cock. Don’t worry about it, Sugarplum. Just let me take control.”

“You are such a piece of shit,” I whispered to him.

“That’s why you’re sexually attracted to me,” he said against my mouth.

Hudson grabbed my ass, pressing me against the bulge in his pants.

“Disrespectful, narcissistic,” I said.

“Look at those multisyllabic words. Someone went to private school,” he said.

“Rude.” My hands splayed over his chest.

“Sheltered,” he retorted, his hands sliding up to my waist.

“Uncultured.”

“Spoiled.” A smile played around his mouth.

“Aggressive.”

He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me.

“Damn right.”

A wheezing bark sounded in the large wood-paneled room.

“Pugnog!” I untangled myself from Hudson as the dog trotted in, wagging his stubby tail at me.

The pug rushed to Hudson, who bent down so the little brown-and-black dog could snuggle in his arms.

“I checked all his wine labels online, and this one is the most expensive, one so let’s drink up,” Dakota called. “Or were you about to …” My cousin waggled her eyebrows.

“Ew, no,” I said as Hudson smirked at her meaning.

He held out a fist, and Dakota fist-bumped him.

“Nice.”

“I heard she told you about her condition,” Dakota said as she opened the bottle of wine.

“A terrible affliction for a young woman from a lovely family to suffer from,” he said solemnly.

“Now who’s using SAT words,” I clapped back at him.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Dakota handed him a Santa Claus mug.

“It seems especially disrespectful to drink James’s $800 bottle of wine out of Target Santa cups,” she said cheerfully.

“He doesn’t get a drink,” I said, grabbing the mug from Hudson. “He’s here to decorate.”

“It is nice to have a big, strong man to help you, isn’t it?” Granny Murray said gleefully a few hours later.

The house looked beautiful all dressed up for Christmas. I sighed wistfully.

Hudson came up from the basement, where I told him to store the empty boxes.

“Looks nice,” he concurred.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling sad. “That’s why I told James to buy this house. I knew it would look amazing for Christmas. Anyway.”

I shook off the sadness. After all, I was getting my revenge, right? I couldn’t be sad. I picked up the bag Granny Murray had brought me. I needed to change for the party.

“Take me to this wine cellar,” Granny Murray told Dakota.

“James is going to be so angry when he realizes we drank all his wine,” I said.

“He’s going to be even angrier,” Hudson said conversationally as he followed me upstairs, “when he finds out I fucked you on his bed.”

“You what? But it’s not tonight,” I babbled. “I thought you meant tonight like after the party.”

“Shock and awe,” he told me.

“It seems a little bit wrong to do it on James and Kelly’s marriage bed,” I whispered as he pushed me down the hall into the master suite.

“Not as perverted as doing your fiancée’s sister under the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve with Santa’s milk and cookies three feet away,” he replied, reaching for my clothes.

Large hands pushed under my skirt.

“Thank god you’re not wearing those fucking tights.”

“Seemed like a recipe for disaster after the waxing,” I said nervously as the skirt pooled around my feet on the floor. “I didn’t wear nice underwear. I thought this was happening tonight.”

Hudson snapped the waistband of the full-coverage black cotton underwear.

“These make your ass look great.”

“So, like, how does this go?” I squawked as he unbuttoned my shirt, kissing the skin as he revealed it. “I might need to read a Wikipedia article first.”

Hudson mouthed my tits through the bra then unhooked it, letting my breasts swing free. He pulled off his shirt over his head and flung it on James’s bed.

My mouth watered at the sight of his chest.

Fuck, Hudson was ripped.

I clutched my shirt to my chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious next to this perfect man who clearly spent hours working out and didn’t stress eat cookies. Shoot. I’d been with him all day, every day practically the last week, and I’d never seen him eat anything as sweet as a piece of fruit. It was all protein and vegetables.

“Get your head in the game,” Hudson hissed. “I know you’re not thinking about getting fucked.”

“I’m just thinking about cooking,” I admitted.

“Focus, Sugarplum.”

“It’s just a lot for me,” I gasped.

His fingers were between my legs, and he was kissing me, and it was hard to form coherent thoughts.

“I just want to say something.”

“If it’s not something along the lines of, ‘I want your hot cum in my pussy,’” he warned, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I just …” I stammered, still holding my shirt to my body, “this wasn’t part of the deal. Sex wasn’t part of our arrangement. This is wrong.”

He scowled.

“You shouldn’t have to have sex with someone you don’t like,” I said in a rush.

“You don’t like me,” he enunciated.

“No. I mean, you’re a selfish jerk, but like, you’re obviously really hot, and I do intellectually see the appeal now of why women set fire to their whole lives just to bang a bad boy. I meant more for you,” I said hastily. “I’m taking advantage of you. You don’t even like me. You don’t think I’m pretty,” I said helplessly. “I’m taking advantage of you.”

His mouth was slightly parted.

“I told you, Sugarplum. This is war. We need to make it seem like you really are in love with the bad boy. Don’t worry about me. You have the nicest tits I’ve ever seen, a tight little pussy, and a mouth I get hard thinking about coming in. After I help you get over your hang-ups about sex, I’m going to make sure you take full advantage of me.”

He winked.

It was hot.

Maybe he was slightly attracted to me. My hopes rose.

“Sit in that chair,” he ordered.

“It’s right in front of the door,” I protested.

“Good. You can be the lookout.”

Gingerly, I sat on the edge of the white stuffed chair.

“Not like that. Sit back. Spread your legs. Wider. Let me see your pussy. Now touch your tits.”

“I can’t do this,” I gasped.

His eyes were glazed dark; he stalked over to me.

He put one hand on either side of my head on the back of the chair, leaned in, and kissed me, jostling me. My head bounced back as he took my mouth.

“I need you to commit to this fake relationship, Sugarplum.”

His large hands grabbed my thighs. His fingers dug into my legs as he spread them wider.

“Fuck yeah, that’s what I wanted to see,” he whispered. “You’re dripping wet for me.”

He spread my pussy; I felt the wetness dripping down onto the white chair cushion.

“Are you going to fuck me?” I stammered as he spread me even wider using his finger.

“No, Sugarplum, I’m going to eat you out ’til you scream.”

Then he went down on me.

His mouth felt a thousand times better than his fingers. My head lolled back as he licked me, his tongue dipping in my opening, sweeping up my pussy to lap at my clit.

I bit my lip, stifling the groan.

Hudson paused. One large hand grasped my neck.

“No, I want to hear you. Let me hear how good it feels. Lose control.”

I moaned as he leaned his head in to nuzzle my breast, sucking on one nipple, then the other.

“Louder,” he ordered, raising his head.

I let out a loud cry of pleasure as his mouth made contact with my clit.

“Fuuuck, Hudson,” I cursed, tangling my fingers in his hair.

His tongue worked my slit; two of his fingers slipped in my opening, stroking me.

“I want your cock,” I begged. “I want you to fuck me with that huge cock, Hudson.”

He added another finger as his tongue gave me those long, slow licks.

Downstairs, guests were starting to arrive.

In this old house, for sure, someone was hearing me having my pussy eaten.

“Fuck, Hudson,” I moaned, eyes closed, legs spread, my head tipped back as I raked my nails over his tattooed back.

His tongue was going faster now, the pleasure intense as he finger fucked me while he lapped at my pussy, swirling his tongue around my clit.

“Make me come, Hudson,” I begged, my voice echoing around the large room. “I need you to make me—”

I came with a loud cry as his tongue milked the orgasm.

Hudson pulled back and regarded me sprawled there in a heap on the chair.

“That was—”

“Just an appetizer,” he stated.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for the full meal yet.”

“I told you,” he growled. “I’m taking your virginity tonight.”

He unbuckled his pants.

I stared wide-eyed.

“Where is your underwear?”

“I came prepared.”

He was better than the photo. My mouth watered as he stroked his huge cock.

“Get on your hands and knees on the bed,” he demanded. “Now that I have you good and wet, everyone in the party is going to know that you like getting fucked by your bad-boy boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” I squeaked, lightheaded from the orgasm and the huge cock.

This was about to happen.

I leaned forward to touch it, running the nail of my thumb along the length.

That was going to be inside of me.

“I’m going to put my huge cock in your pussy,” he growled. “Make you feel what it’s like to have a real man claim you. Now be a good girl, and spread your legs for me.”

The postorgasm clarity was closing in. I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it.

“It is a very nice cock,” I began.

“Gracie? Gracie!” my mom called. “Are you up there?”

“Crap.” I struggled out from under him. “Sorry. Holiday duties call.”

He grabbed my wrist briefly before letting me go.

“You can’t keep running from me forever.”

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