The phone buzzed again on the table, its vibration seeming more insistent. He didn’t need to look to know who it was, so rudely interrupting his time away; didn’t need to see the screen to know it would be the office, demanding to know the exact date of his return. Well . . . the fat man could kiss his ass, he thought as the girl’s strong hands moved up his well-muscled thighs, pressing into the glutes of the aforementioned ass Santa was welcome to kiss.
