Frosting Her Christmas Cookies - Alina Jacobs Page 0,7
women at the other stations with their colorful Christmas outfits, rosy cheeks, and soft tits. They were the kinds of women I usually went after. I would say I took them into my bed, but I didn’t let people into my personal space. I had made that mistake one time and would never repeat it. I liked to maintain boundaries. If a woman was coming into my home, then I wanted her to be the one I married. The girls I met at bars were just for fun; I fucked them in hotels if we could wait that long, but usually we did it in a car, in my office, or in the VIP section of a swanky club.
When I had signed up for the bake-off and Dana had floated the idea of the date-off component, part of me had wondered if maybe this would be my opportunity to find the love of my life. As soon as I met the contestants, though, that dream had been squashed. Though the girls were soft, sexy, and fuckable (Morticia aside), they had that predatory edge that let me know they wanted to be Mrs. Frost for the lifestyle and not for me.
However, just because I wasn’t planning on putting a ring on it didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck one of them or even most of them. I’d just have to be careful and take the condom with me…
“No!” Dana slapped the back of my head.
“Ouch!” I glared at Dana.
“I told you, Jonathan, you cannot sleep with any woman during the contest or for three months after. You must wait until after we stage the breakup,” Dana said. “No sex.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” I complained. “I was sitting here fully clothed.”
“I can see lecherous thoughts leaking out of your eyeballs,” Dana said. “The Great Christmas Bake-Off is a family-friendly show. People watch this with their tween and teen daughters. They want to believe in Christmas cookies and true love. Keep it in your pants.”
“I have been!”
In fact, I had been so busy over the last two months with the big Hillrock West Distillery launch that I hadn’t had any relief. Usually, I was at the office all night while I went over all the specifics with my team. I only went home to shower and work out. I needed the launch to be record blowing. That industrial property across the street? I needed to buy it. The Svensson brothers had said I could partner with Svensson Investment on the Hamilton Yards development, but I had to bring an influx of cash to the table and show that my hedge fund was the real deal and not some vanity project.
Between the launch and trying to convince the crazy old property owner to sign the sale papers, I hadn’t even so much as jacked off in the last six weeks, let alone been laid. My balls weren’t just blue, they were frozen. I was so horny that even Morticia was starting to look like a good prospect. I wondered what she looked like under that shapeless reindeer mascot costume. Honestly, I wouldn’t even need to find out. I could just push her over the table, rip a hole in the seam…all that profanity coming out of her mouth while I parted her and—
Crack!
“Ow!” I rubbed the back of my head.
“Didn’t Dana just tell you to cool it?” Belle said, a rolled-up edition of the Vanity Rag in her hand. My older sister’s voice was icy.
I gulped. Belle was not to be trifled with. When we were kids, she had ruled the house with an iron fist. My parents were too busy to raise us, and my mom did not believe in nannies, so the child-rearing had fallen upon my sister. She wielded her power effectively.
“My investment firm has money riding on this bake-off venture,” she said, tone frosty. “I will not have you screw it up because you never outgrew being a horny fourteen-year-old boy.”
I smirked. “All the women I’ve been with have told me I’m definitely a man.”
Crack!
“Shit!”
“No swearing,” Belle ordered. “The judging is about to start. Try to say something insightful.”
The girl in the holiday nutcracker outfit was first to present her dessert. “I made for you this evening,” she said with a giggle, “red velvet baked Alaska with peppermint schnapps.”
She set what appeared to be a decayed jellyfish in front of me.
“Is that the entrails of the Christmas goose?” Nick asked, poking it with his fork.