The Kringle Girls - Collection

Contents

HOLLY
.
3

IVY
.
12

NOELLE
.
21

MERRY
.
30

THE KRINGLE GIRLS

AT
LEAST I’M WEARING tights,
thought Holly Kringle as she tugged down the too-short skirt of her elf dress
for the thousandth time that night, mentally cursing her friend Louisa, who had
thought that the costumes were a cute idea.

“It’s
truth in advertising, right?” she had giggled that afternoon, handing over the
green velvet mini-dress and hat.

Unfortunately,
while Louisa was a tiny bright-eyed blonde who could probably pass for one of
Santa’s elves if she were a little less well-endowed, Holly was human-sized.
The costume was apparently not. Louisa loved being BFFs with one of Santa’s
daughters – Holly’s identity was the town’s worst-kept secret. People took one
look at Holly with her plain brown hair, smattering of freckles over her nose,
and goody two-shoes vibe, and either believed immediately, or dismissed the
idea as crazy urban legend.

Holly
tried not to make a big deal out it. Growing up as a daughter of Santa Claus
wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. It was like living in the shadow of a
jolly, round rock star. While her three sisters were firmly involved in the
family business, Holly had rebelled as emphatically as she could. She didn’t
want to live at the North Pole or act as a liaison to the rapidly-changing
outside world. She wanted to teach second-graders and have a normal life and
not think about Christmas every moment of every day.

She
loved Christmas. She really did. And it’s not as though she had abandoned the
family completely – she still had her magic, she still popped up to have dinner
with the family and the elves on Christmas night every year, she still talked
to her mom all the time – even more so now that Mom had figured out how to make
a video call. Lately, however, Mrs. Claus had been needling her about her
single status.

“Can’t
you meet someone nice, Holly? Kringles live a long time. If you lived up here,
I wouldn’t worry, but down there – you really want to spend all those decades
alone?”

Holly
shuddered at the idea of trying to explain to a mortal man that marrying into
the family meant not only constant threat of the Naughty List, unexpected
magical chaos, and Santa as a father-in-law, but also a kind of
enhanced
lifespan.
Really enhanced.
Holly wasn’t a workaholic like Ivy, or
competitive like Noelle, or timid like Merry, the youngest Kringle sister.
Holly was just…normal. And she wanted a normal life, with a normal job. And
maybe
someday
her mother would wear her down, but she didn’t seem to
understand that it wasn’t as simple as just picking someone out.

Besides,
it’s not like Holly hadn’t thought about it. She was a red-blooded,
big-hearted, sexually mature woman with needs. But she wasn’t going to go for
the first guy that came along. She had criteria – just a few trifling little
preferred traits.

Okay,
it’s a list. So what? Kringles like lists.

Someone
good with surprises. Someone intelligent and kind, who liked kids. And what
girl wouldn’t want a strong, sexy man with great hands, a fantastic body, and
maybe a pair of hot green eyes who knew just how to touch her to make her scream
in pleasure? Of course, very few men could live up to this completely
reasonable set of criteria, so Holly didn’t date much.

The
pickings are slim,
she thought.

Not
that she was looking.

David
Brewster’s handsome face drifted into her mind and Holly ruthlessly banished
it.
Off limits.
Besides, she had more important things to worry about
right now.

Such
as all the parents wondering why their kids are being taught by a woman who
moonlights as a naughty elf stripper over the Christmas holidays.

Holly
winced.

It
was too late to change – the Christmas Eve holiday party at the community
center was about to start, a chance for various schools and neighborhood groups
to mingle and celebrate together, and raise a little money for charity. Her own
second-grade class had just finished their play about the pine tree lost in the
candy cane forest. They had done well, and the applause had their little faces
glowing with pleased smiles. Holly snuck away during the second half to finish
preparations for the reception – there were Chanukah and Christmas wall
decorations to straighten and cookies to set out.

She
tugged on her skirt again and picked up a stapler. In fifteen minutes, the room
would be crowded with kids and parents from three different schools, and Holly
would have to nod and smile and pretend that her stupid elf costume wasn’t
cutting off her circulation or risking indecent exposure with every breath.

Holly
sighed and started up the ladder.

DAVID
BREWSTER NEARLY GROANED.

Pull
it together, Brewster
,
he insisted to himself,
Not the time or the place.

He
silently ordered his cock to stand down, but realized that it was probably a
wasted effort. Not when Holly Kringle was standing on a ladder, her luscious
curves wrapped in short, tight green velvet, looking like a fucking fantasy
come to life. She stretched to staple a loose piece of garland back up to the
wall and David’s mouth went dry as the move hiked up her skirt another inch.

She
was alone in the room, and David was grateful. The thought of another man
admiring her ass in that soft, touchable fabric at eye-level rankled. Holding
his jacket in front to hide his unruly erection, he stepped inside, a thrill
running through him at the thought of stealing a few moments alone with his
young son’s mind-blowingly hot teacher.

He’d
gotten stuck at the hospital all afternoon, but managed to tear himself away
just in time to catch Henry’s performance. All their practice had paid off, and
David was sure that Henry was the best candy cane in the class. After the
stress of the last year, David was pleased to see his son’s face shining with
pleasure, as excited and happy as any other seven-year-old at Christmas time.

It
was all Holly.

After
his ex-wife had left them last winter to marry a Wall Street jerkoff across the
country, David had done his best to pick up the pieces, and
bless her
,
Holly had stepped in to help out. She was always there to patch up Henry’s
scrapes, to offer encouragement, and to ease his worries when David’s shifts at
the hospital kept him working late. When David had expressed his amazement at
Holly’s giving nature to Louisa Klein, she had just laughed.

“She’s
a Kringle girl. What else would you expect from one of Santa’s daughters?”

David
had just shaken his head – small towns came up with some pretty odd urban
legends, but Holly as the daughter of a nonexistent being was a really weird
one. Sure, her name was
Holly Kringle,
but
come on.
Not that he
wouldn’t be willing to believe it if there really were such a thing as Santa
Claus. Her heart was as big as the moon, kids and adults all adored her, and
the way her nose crinkled under sparkling brown eyes when she smiled always
tugged at his heart.

And
her warm cinnamon smell made him want to sink to his knees and beg for a taste,
preferably a long lick between those shapely thighs, until she came against his
mouth.

God,
it’s been a long time since I last had sex.

It’s
a good thing Holly wasn’t Santa’s daughter, because by now David’s thoughts would
probably have bypassed the Naughty List and sent him straight to Hell. There
was definitely something wrong with spending half his time coming up with
various ways to strip sweet Holly Kringle naked and wrap her around his cock.

Maybe
he should start by asking her out. He was ready to start dating again. Maybe.

David
stepped closer, taking one more moment to admire the heart-shaped ass that was
perfectly lined up for him. All he’d have to do is lean forward to nip one
luscious curve with his teeth.

 He
cleared his throat.

“Hi
Holly,” he ventured.

She
shrieked, and the stapler fell to the ground as Holly whirled around and lost
her balance on the ladder. David lunged forward, his hands finding her waist as
hers gripped his shoulders, putting him at eye level with those gorgeous tits.
A little more than a handful, with sweet cleavage he wanted to run his tongue
along. David stifled a moan at the faint indentation of hard little nipples
against the fabric of her costume. He prayed she wouldn’t look down – he’d lost
his jacket when he dove to save her.

“I
didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, but didn’t let go of her waist as he
settled her back onto the rung. She felt fantastic under his hands, and he
didn’t even feel bad that he was planning to prolong the contact for as long as
possible.

Hey
Holly, how about a date with an overworked single father with a list of mildly
kinky sexual fantasies that he’d really like to try out on you?

Maybe
after Christmas.

HE’S
STARING AT MY breasts.

Holly
couldn’t breathe, waiting for the mortification to hit her. She knew her
costume was going to get her into trouble at some point, and wondered if she
could fashion a sweater out of something in the arts and crafts closet. Felt
and glue, perhaps? However, David’s gaze on her breasts didn’t feel like
disapproval. It felt…
hot
. Like his hands on her waist. Like the sculpted
muscles of his shoulders under her fingers. He looked up and smiled, and Holly
swallowed, her throat tight. She had to do something quickly, before she did
something really stupid.

Like
kiss him. Shit.

Holly
had a feeling that getting involved with the parent of one of her students was
a bad idea, no matter how yummy the doctor with the brown-gold hair and emerald
eyes was. Besides, David and Henry Brewster had had a tough year. David didn’t
need the additional Kringle drama that having her in his life would bring.
Again,
off limits, Kringle.
From this close, she could see that David’s eyes were
flecked with gold, and he smelled divine, like spice and cold winter nights. He
was holding her as though he was thinking about pressing her back into the
ladder and doing something
really
naughty to her. Holly clenched her
thighs against the sudden surge of arousal and hoped he wouldn’t notice.