Page 83 of The Naughty List Agreement

“Me too,” Cora admitted.

The food arrived and Cora dug into her chicken while Hannah talked. She remembered the conversation she’d had the last time she’d been here. Nick asking about her favorite Christmas memories. This was one. This special night with these women who were becoming her friends.

“Wassailing?” Cora didn’t seem convinced a few nights later when she was naked in his arms. She’d asked a million questions about the tradition, unsure that singing and drinking cider was going to increase attendance or sales at the Winter Wonderland festival, but Nick convinced her to give it a chance. Traditionally, wassailing was celebrated as part of Twelfth Night, which was in January. But in recent years more people did it in the lead-up to Christmas.

Crowd numbers were holding steady at the Winter Wonderland, but Nick needed to foster more community spirit, and a group sing would go a long way toward helping.

“It’s an ancient tradition where you drink hard cider and walk through the woods, awakening the spirits. It’s a no-cost way of promoting the festival,” he said.

She chewed her lower lip, looking cute as she weighed his suggestion. “The paperchain intention station has been a massive success.”

“It has.”

“What if you get a big head from all this?”

“I thought you liked my big head,” he said, rolling her naked body under his and sliding into her.

Her back arched and her head fell back as she took him all the way inside her. Her legs came around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, fingers into his hair as they moved together.

Pressure grew on him every day that he didn’t have a wife, and it was only when he was in bed with Cora that he didn’t pay attention to it. The solution to everything seemed more obvious when they were together and talking about the festival and Christmas. In these moments, Gold Lumen stirred the air around them and his heartbeat steadied as if … as if she was the answer.

She ran her hand down his back, cupping his ass and arching to whisper directly into his ear.

“Stop teasing and fuck me.”

“I like this,” he said, deliberately slowing down his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. Her body was soft and welcoming, taking all he had to give.

“Don’t you like it when I come around you, squeezing hard?” she asked, her hot words channeled directly into his ear making his dick jump. He was holding on by a thread but there was no reason to because coming inside Cora was heaven.

“I love it,” he said, against her neck, kissing her lightly there. “But I also love just being inside you. I don’t want this to end.”

“We can do it again,” she promised. “However many times you want.”

The control he’d been exerting disappeared and he thrust harder, deeper, quicker until he was pounding into her. Their mouths merged together until his orgasm roared through his body, emptying him into her as she arched under him, nails digging into his shoulders as she climaxed under him.

He rolled to her side, one arm resting on her lower body, her hand on his arm, tracing his tattoos. They were the outward manifestation of the promises he’d made when he agreed to become Santa Claus. The oath he’d taken wasn’t one he intended to break and he was now convinced that Cora was the one he needed at his side.

But telling someone who didn’t believe in Santa Claus that he actually was Santa Claus wasn’t going to be easy.

“Okay, so how would I set up this wassailing?” she asked.

He laughed at the way she jumped back to their conversation.

“We’d announce it on socials and on the news and invite people to come to the wooded area at the back of the festival grounds.”

“I’m guessing the main song will be ‘Here We Come A Wassailing?’”

“Of course, but there are a handful of other traditional songs too. Normally it’s done in January so it’s not really carols, but we can use it as a chance to go singing together and not worry too much about what songs we choose.”

“I’ll have the maintenance people lay out and light a path. We can move a couple of food trucks out there, too, and sell hot mulled cider and wine along with hot chocolate. I think this will work.”

She was so serious. He tickled her, letting his hand dance around her stomach. She started laughing as she squirmed next to him, trying to tickle him back but he evaded her touch.

“What are you doing?” She got out the words between guffaws of laughter.

“Reminding you that we’re not at work,” he said, moving so he could tickle her better.

She grabbed a pillow and hit him with it as she scrambled away from him. They ended up in a pile, naked and laughing.