My Christmas Carol: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows Who He Wants Book 220) Read online

  CONTENTS

  My Christmas Carol

  NEWSLETTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  MY CHRISTMAS CAROL

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 220

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2020 by Flora Ferrari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  MY CHRISTMAS CAROL

  LUCIAN

  Every Christmas it’s the same.

  I’ve played Santa for as long as I can remember, both in front of and behind the scenes. All year-round too, not just on Christmas.

  I think it’s enough.

  But it’s a lonely life of being Mr. Claus without his significant other.

  Checking in on the dressing room when I know I can’t be today Santa I find what I’ve been looking for.

  Her.

  But I know it’ll never be enough. Not until I have her as my own.

  A lifetime’s worth of yearning solved in one single moment.

  The day I meet my one true love.

  And it’s Christmas.

  There are angels, and I’ve had one fall to earth.

  Right in my lap.

  Carol.

  My Christmas Carol.

  CAROL

  I hate Christmas.

  But it’s usually a way to pick up extra work when everyone else is on holiday.

  But I only hate it because it means being alone.

  Again.

  Until I see Lucian.

  He’s my forever Christmas, even if it’s only in my mind.

  The dream boss I figured wasn’t my boss at all.

  As if an older guy like him would ever go for a younger curvy girl like me.

  But he does.

  He insists on it and I can’t refuse.

  Maybe this Christmas won’t be so bad after all?

  *My Christmas Carol is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Carol

  “Well! It’s a few day’s works. Best we can do for someone in your… position,” he sneers over the phone.

  Something I much prefer to hear than having to go down to the temp agency in person and get first hand.

  I’ve had the man’s eye on me before and it’s not a pleasant experience.

  “Alright, alright, Nathan.” I sigh bitterly. “Just say when and where, and I’ll be there,” I tell him, feeling like I’ve double-crossed myself already.

  Two maybe three days for a couple of hundred bucks, I can do that.

  My rent is like a month behind and it’s two days before Christmas as it is.

  If there’s such a thing as a Christmas miracle, this chubby little elf needs one.

  The creeper Nathan from the job agency texts me the details, and I make the call. Within the hour I’m huffing it to the subway to make sure I don’t miss the interview.

  A slightly more cheerful, but in no way friendly woman scans my resume after I’ve filled out what feels like a thirty page application.

  Peering over her desk at me, starting down at my feet and working her way up, she creases her mouth, making a low annoyed sound.

  “How soon can you start?” she says, puffing her cheeks and looking at the clock. “I’ve got a three o’clock meet and greet with Mr. and Mrs. Claus, take it or leave it,” she says flatly.

  I have no idea what any of that means, but it’s work and I need the money fast, so I feel my head bobbing with enthusiasm as my heart sinks.

  Here we go again.

  She breathes a curt little sigh of relief, which is followed by my own.

  “Okay kid, I’ll give you a shot. We pay by cash check at the end of each shift. You’ll be starting with Bill… he’s alright. Just don’t lend him any money, and for Christ’s sakes, whatever you do, don’t sit on his lap.”

  I feel myself blushing, embarrassed, and nervous as hell.

  Somebody opens a side door and a woman ushers me over.

  “I’m Clara,” she says. “Don’t worry about all that stuff, it’s not a bad job, just smile a lot when you’re out front and everything’s easy. I’ll take you through to your fitting now,” her heels clipping so hard on cold cement I feel obliged to follow.

  “My… fitting?” I ask, feeling real panic setting in now.

  “For your uniform, costume really. You’re the new Mrs. Clause, from three ‘til eight.”

  I hear myself gulping over the sound of her heels.

  “You did sign the part about the uniform? Any damage is on you and there’s a fifty dollar deposit, which we take from your first check. Got it?” she calls over her shoulder.

  I feel myself shrinking, moment by moment back into the so-called workforce. Since college, I’ve had to take whatever work I can get, so I tell myself to be more positive.

  “On the plus side,” she adds once we get to a grimy looking door, “There’s a cafeteria with all you can eat, and we even have a cashier next door who’ll do your check, so either way you won’t starve,” she says, trying to sound perky, but eyeing me up and down as if she holds grave concern for their stores of cafeteria food.

  I practice my first fake smile of the day, and it works.

  “That’s the spirit,” she says, leading me through to a room filled with rack upon rack of freshly dry cleaned costumes and uniforms.

  “This is the biggest we have, should fit you,” she murmurs without looking, handing me what looks like a two piece Mrs. Clause suit in thin plastic film.

  “Change in there,” she says, checking a clipboard while pointing and signing something.

  “I’ll be back in five to take you through… Oh! Make sure you pee. We don’t have a break, you’ll be on from three ‘til eight tonight.”

  I fake smile again, and so does she.


  My own collapsing into a silent scream once I hear the door close and I begin to realize just what I’ve gotten myself into.

  The door creaks open and closes again not long after, and I wonder if I actually made a sound or voiced what I really think out loud.

  I half fancy I hear a low sound, like an animal or something groaning. I can smell something amazing too, like something I’ve never smelt before.

  I try and tell myself it’s just the wind, an old building.

  But I can’t deny the feeling that suddenly rushes through me.

  Whatever it is, I have a single moment of wanting to undress all of a sudden, like whatever it is is watching me and needs to see more.

  I strip and busy myself with putting on the Mrs. Clause suit, which as she said, is a snug fit on me.

  No padding required.

  Although, I’m not sure if Mrs. Claus is as ‘Jolly’ as her old man.

  “Grrr!” I finally growl, forgetting all my feelings. Just feeling plainly pissed with my life so far. “I hate Christmas.”

  A deep, muffled laugh makes me cover my chest with my hands, even though I’m dressed by now, minus the weird looking velvet boots.

  “Who is it?” I ask aloud. “Who’s there?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lucian

  I’m not even supposed to be down here, I have a meeting in like five minutes, ten minutes away.

  But once I hear her voice, and definitely, once I see her from behind, I know I’m pretty much done for.

  I’m booked solid to be ‘Mr. Claus,’ from three ‘til eight until Christmas Eve, but I really can’t make it today.

  Old Bill though, he’s a gun. The longest serving janitor at Kellerman’s who always loves a chance to be Santa if nobody else can and is always ready to take my place.

  I was only coming down to make sure he’d turned up.

  Bill has some, uh… personal problems and it can sometimes get in the way of his performance. But when he’s here, he’s a gem.

  But I don’t see Bill, and Clara doesn’t seem worried, so I figure it’s taken care of.

  Normally I’d spin on my heel and go do what I have to.

  But that voice.

  That golden hair.

  That ass.

  It’s a unisex changing area, with lockers and curtains. A men’s side and a woman’s side, where most of the staff who can’t get changed at home change here, like those dressed as elves and Santa at Christmas.

  I hang back once I see them both go in, but once Carla leaves, I’m not quite sure what comes over me.

  It’s like something inside me is suddenly tingling.

  A thread that pulls me to her, whoever she is.

  I also notice how hard my dick is. If anybody was to happen by…

  Before I know it, I’ve crept in and concealed myself behind a changing room curtain out of sight.

  I’m on the men’s side, I tell myself.

  It’s alright.

  My heart is pounding against my ribs and my ears are ringing as I feel myself move closer toward her.

  Peeking through a gap, I can see she’s unsure of something, maybe everything. But something tells me she feels my eyes on her.

  And that there’s a part of her too that’s feeling something bubbling up from deep inside.

  Her clear blue eyes never meet the mirrors or mine. And already I’m quietly unzipping myself, feeling my hot hard dick in my hand for what feels like the first time in twenty years.

  God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard.

  I can’t help it. And a low, animal sound escapes me as I start to feel the head of manhood stimulated by my own hand, imagining it to be the sweet tight lips of her pussy.

  Now, I have to say I’m no pervert. Not like I hang around concrete hallways waiting for women to get changed.

  But it’s not like she isn’t giving me a show either.

  I never thought of having a ‘type.’ But seeing her thick body shimmy out of her jeans, bending over, and then lifting off her white blouse, I can’t help but feel I’m getting a refresher in female biology.

  Her skin is so smooth, so soft looking. Almost like powder.

  And her hips, fuck me those hips, I can feel my hands on them already, pushing her legs open from behind as I slide into her… filling her with my seed in no time.

  Jesus Lucian, get a grip. I tell myself, noticing how tight my own grip on my dick actually is, pumping frantically now as another groan battles against my clenched jaw.

  Watching her swollen chest thicken, her breath shiver as she starts to dress, I can’t help but realize she knows someone’s watching.

  It’s gotta be turning her on as much as it is me.

  I feel my balls starting to rise too soon. I have to stop or I will be in more trouble than I’ve already started.

  Once she’s dressed, she growls herself, letting out a terrible groan about how much she hates Christmas.

  Ironic, I think, considering how she’s dressed.

  Mrs. Claus in a two piece, tight fitting velvet suit that oozes Christmas and is making me ooze my own desire for her.

  I hear a muffled laugh until I realize in horror it’s my own.

  Hurriedly, I zip myself up, wishing she could see what she’s done to me.

  I feel the wet squelch of my dick inside my pants and hold my breath as she asks if anyone’s in here with her.

  I want to tell her.

  I want to show her. I want to take her here and now, right over that damned chair, she had her beautiful leg up on.

  But I can’t. Not yet.

  Apart from my meeting, which I’m now late for, I know if I expose myself now it might scare her off.

  And that’s not what I want.

  Plus, she’s Mrs. Claus, due on duty right about… now.

  But I do know what I want and it’s her.

  All of her.

  To be all mine.

  I freeze on the spot, watching her covering herself with her hands, her small hands creasing into the folds of her chest that I wish mine were on right now.

  She doesn’t look scared though.

  Concerned, but not scared, and if it wasn’t for some racks of clothes and her own inability to look into mirrors, I figure my hiding spot would have been given up ages ago.

  Clenching my jaw, but still feeling my aching dick twitch as I watch her from behind lean over to slip her velvet boots on before stowing her purse and keys in a locker that won’t lock, it takes all I have to keep silent.

  Knowing the one thing I need, the one thing I truly want is only feet away from me.

  And then, just as quickly as it all started, I smell her fresh innocence whishing past, leaving me in her wake as I moan loudly again once the door closes.

  Sinking to my hams, I wince at my hardness catching in my pants, but I know it’s useless.

  I could touch myself for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t mean a damned thing.

  I need to be inside her.

  I need her to need me inside her too.

  I want her to want me, as much as I want her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Carol

  It’s just first day nerves, plus you didn’t eat.

  Did you pee like that woman said?

  Crap!

  I only wish I could hold this feeling off as much as my bladder.

  What the hell just happened back there? It was like something in me was awakened.

  Like something… or someone was in the right place, but just at the wrong time.

  I practically stumble down the concrete hallway until I bump into Carla coming out through a door. She eyes me up and down.

  “You alright? You look…” The perplexed expression on her face sums up how I really feel.

  Is it so obvious?

  “Do you believe in ghosts?” I ask her, making her do another double-take before rolling her eyes.

  “Honey, it’s Christmas, not Halloween. Just tell me you got this for the next f
ive hours? I got other things to worry about.”

  I give a firm nod, forcing that fake smile again.

  “Better,” she says firmly. “Bill- Santa is through here. Follow me.”

  She leads me through a narrow passage and another doorway, which opens into the trademark Christmas themed set of a Santa’s workshop.

  It’s well done, much nicer than the backstage area.

  Except for that feeling…

  I jump a little when I hear an almost quavering ‘Ho-ho-ho!’ from behind a curtain.

  “He’s getting into character,” Carla says. “Now. You’ll be here by the throne. Check off each kid’s name and introduce them to Santa, maybe help the photographer if she asks, apart from that, just smile like you care,” she says, scrutinizing me one last time before she disappears.

  I feel the pit of my stomach drop as a heavy red velvet curtain draws back. A short, squat elderly man in a pretty darn good Santa suit and makeup greets me.

  His eyes twinkle, but not with true recognition.

  Holding out both his gloved hands, he speaks to my costume, not to me as a person.

  “Why if it isn’t Mrs. Claus, Ho-ho-ho!’ he booms and ushers me to my position by his throne, he seems to know the exact moment when things start, which I don’t.

  God, I wish I’d peed.

  I wish whoever was in that changing room was here instead of this guy.

  A flustered woman, dressed like an elf and not much younger than Santa sweeps in, heaving back another huge set of curtains across the way.

  She has a camera, so I assume she’s the photographer.

  I’m bombarded by a sudden flood of bright lights and noises from an open shopping mall that seems to zoom in on us from the outside.

  Pushing a novelty sized and festively decorated clipboard and quill into my hands, she doesn’t bother introducing herself.

  “Welcome… to hell…” she murmurs, as we all hear the sound of approaching children and tired parents as whatever barrier that’s been holding them back is finally lifted.

  I gulp and strain my fake smile, thinking only of what it felt like to maybe just have someone watching me and getting off on it when I was getting changed.

  Within two minutes, I realize if it wasn’t for that though, that experience, I’d be punching the next kid I have to fake smile at and get the hell outta here.