Stuffed Stockings: A Sweet and Sexy Christmas Romance

By K.A. Mitchell

Have a holly, very jolly Christmas…

Lucas doesn’t usually do the anonymous holiday gift exchange. But when his office crush, Zane, extends an invite, how could he say no? A little holiday cheer might be nice for a change.

What he doesn’t expect are the bonus presents accompanying the bulge in his Christmas stocking—increasingly kinky gifts that have him wishing he’d torn into them in the privacy of his bedroom.

Though Lucas can’t stop fantasizing—in vivid detail—that his seductive Santa is Zane, he can’t quite believe it’s true. That is, until Zane starts dropping clues that have Lucas blushing almost as much as the erotic gifts themselves.

One thing is for sure: Christmas may be right around the corner, but waiting to unwrap his final sexy surprise is going to be a challenge…

This book is approximately 26,000 words



One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Carina Press
• Release date: Dec 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781488053603

K.A. Mitchell

At a very early age, K.A. Mitchell decided that Ken and G.I. Joe made a much cuter couple than Ken and Barbie and was perplexed when invitations to play Barbie fell off sharply. Today she still loves hanging out with imaginary friends and making up stories. Even better, people pay her to read about them. Now the author of over twenty-five gay romances, she guarantees happy endings for even the surliest of heroes, despite all their baggage.

Book preview

Chapter One

Coming face-to-face with a row of bulges wrapped in red flannel was not on Lucas’s agenda. Maybe in his fantasy version of a Saturday night agenda, but definitely not first thing Monday morning. And not at work. Well, he might have wasted some company time drooling over one particular bulge always hidden behind brown, navy or gray wool slacks, but at the moment he was completely unprepared for fourteen packages hanging at eye level.

In addition to the line of bulging stockings, the front wall of the cubicle block was as decked as any hall could dream of being. Fake holly garland, sparkling lights, a long fireplace and a five-by-three, freestanding cardboard ho-ho-hoing Santa. Or maybe he was fa-la-la-la-laing.

The elves must have stayed pretty late on Friday. The warnings Lucas had received about the marketing department going all-in for the holidays hadn’t prepared him for the reality. As he absorbed the festive impact, the tree in the corner, the menorah, dreidl and Kwanzaa kinara on the cardboard mantel, he couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to get dragged across the hall and into the exaggerated cheer.

Then he read the glittery cursive name on one particular stuffed stocking and remembered exactly what had happened.

Zane. His package wasn’t the only thing that had Lucas drooling. Sharp jaw, broad shoulders, muscular ass. Not to mention confident, great-smelling and totally out of Lucas’s league. Zane had given Lucas a dimpled smile and said, You’re in too, right, Lucas?

Lucas had responded with his usual stall of pushing his glasses back up his nose. I don’t usually... He’d trailed off, finding that it was easier to let people fill in the blanks the way they wanted to.

Zane’s smile had dimmed a little. Holiday-related trauma? Death? Mayhem? A bad breakup?

No. Nothing like that. Christmas was great. He had nothing but happy memories of it. And of Chanukah at his best friend Isaac’s house too. Lucas just wasn’t good at most things that other people found easy. Like giving strangers presents that wouldn’t seem embarrassingly weird once they knew they were from him. He’d been working at EV-AR for almost eight months and still felt like the new guy.

Good. With a wink of a blue eye that actually sparkled, Zane had slapped Lucas on the shoulder. We’re picking Secret Santas—sorry, Elf Exchange is what the company wants us to call it now. Anyway, we’re doing it at three in the break room. See you then.

Yeah. Sure. Lucas had stammered, like he probably would if Zane had asked for Lucas’s left nut.

With a quick peek around—not that anyone else would be here at seven ten in the morning—Lucas darted forward and stuffed his first gift offering in the stocking that a generously applied glitter-pen labeled as Julia’s.

He shuffled over to his left, then fished the lump out of the red fuzzy toe below his name before going into the break room and starting the coffee.

As he waited for the drip, he lifted his own first Secret Santa gift and shook it. Something solid slid in about an extra millimeter of space inside thin cardboard. He recognized the sound, a bar of soap. Shit. Was someone trying to tell him his hygiene wasn’t working? Glancing over his shoulder, he gave himself a sniff test but couldn’t detect anything offensive.

He tore off the candy cane-striped paper. Lucky Money Soap the green cardboard box proclaimed. Wash in Wealth. There was a picture of a tightly rolled bill encased in clear green glycerin. Along the side it read Every bar contains real money. $1, $5, $10, $20 or even a $50 bill.

At least the gift wasn’t an obvious attempt to let him know he was stinking up the place. He carried the soap and his coffee back across the hall to the accounting department and into his cubicle.

Another squat box sat just behind his monitor stand, this one wrapped in a metallic blue. As he tugged it forward, he saw a block-printed gift tag. Open in private. A quick prairie-dog peek over the top of his cubicle wall told him what he already knew. No one ever came to the office this early. That was why Lucas liked it.

He lifted it and shook it. The cardboard was much thicker, and inside it a bottle of something liquid, but not as heavy as he’d expect a mini liquor bottle might be. And there’d be no need to open that in private. A bottle of... His brain didn’t supply anything predictable. But being stumped for a change was fun, so he let anticipation build for a moment. Maybe this Secret Santa thing would be fun, rather than embarrassing.

Skin prickling with excitement, he tore off the paper.

The white cardboard didn’t offer any more clues, so Lucas slid his letter opener under an edge and sliced through the tape holding it shut, then tipped the box. The expected bottle tumbled out into his hand. Then Lucas read the label and dropped it.

The small bottle rolled out of his cubicle, and he scrambled after it, face burning as hot as the contents. Holy hell, that bottle had really taken off, twenty feet away and still rolling. His hand closed around it just as the elevator chimed in the lobby. He rushed back to his desk and stuffed it as deep into his messenger bag as he could. He didn’t need to see it again to remember what the bottle’s label had said.

Hot Nights. Add a Little Spice to your Love life. Smaller print read, Cinnamon-flavored, self-warming personal lubricant.

Lucas waited until the voices in the lobby faded before carrying the box and the wrapping paper to the on-site shredder.

---

Here you mean? Zane pointed to a block on the spreadsheet.

Lucas had to bend closer to see where he pointed and got another whiff of Zane’s aftershave. The woody spice was delicious smelling enough, but then Lucas thought of the hidden bottle of cinnamon warming lube and had to will his cock to stay down.

Yes. You have to break that out into separate expenditure categories. Lucas backed up a fraction, but there was no minimal safe distance from Zane—at least not where Lucas’s dick was concerned. He might be out of range of the aftershave, but not from the perfect symmetry of Zane’s features, from the sweet mouth Lucas was dying to taste and so not out of range of those fucking dimples that threatened to blot out all thoughts of spreadsheets and even turn basic math functions into Sanskrit.

Zane considered the budget sheet again. What about here?

The question forced Lucas to step closer again. No, that’s fine. He stared at the back of Zane’s neck, at a square brown mole on the pale white skin just visible above his shirt collar. That shouldn’t be sexy, but Lucas pictured himself kissing it, and Jesus he needed to get back to the safety of accounting. Right now.

Do you think you could check it over for me one more time? I mean, after I make the changes?

Sure.

Zane spun his chair around, forcing Lucas a step back. Looking up through his thick dark lashes—was there any imperfection on this man?—Zane said, So, did your Secret Santa slash Exchange Elf treat you all right today?

Lucas’s mouth went dry, but he summoned up enough spit to answer Uh yeah.

Not in a million years could the lube have been from Zane. Not because Zane wasn’t gay. He was. In fact, everyone knew he had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who wasn’t just model-beautiful. He actually was a model.

Resisting the urge to push his glasses back up, Lucas added, So we’re just supposed to bring in one gift each Monday and Friday, right?

Zane’s brows drew down for an instant. Yeah, until the party when we give them the last one in person.

That was what he’d explained when he roped Lucas into this. Lucas remembered the last company party. The