Free A Thigh Hih Christmas by Tiffany Monique

Wednesday
     
     
    “Does she know that’s distracting as hell?” Maxwell Santino asked, allowing his gaze to be commandeered by the hypnotic sway of silk-covered hips.
    “I think so, but I doubt she cares,” replied Maxwell’s best friend and partner, Jonas DeMarco. “She’s been handing out Christmas presents to the office all morning. I don’t think I’ve seen the IT department smile so much since this year’s ComiCon. She even came by my office and left a box on my desk this morning.”
    “In that get-up? Really… ” Maxwell questioned, his voice trailing off, the disapproval fairly dripping from his lips. “ She hasn ’ t spoken to me since Monday unless I spoke to her first. I ’ m getting a little tired of her silent treatment, and she pulled a stunt last night that took this whole misunderstanding to another level. I only hope this afternoon’s little surprise will make up for the mess we’ve had this week.”
    Fiona Day Santino carried a Santa-sized sack of presents up and down the aisle of the IT department, wishing each and every employee happy holidays. Taking into account that not everyone celebrated Christmas, she joked and called them “winter thank-you gifts.” What she didn’t realize was that every time she bent over to retrieve a present from the sack, the kick-pleat in the back of her silk pencil skirt flared, giving a flirty glimpse of her holiday thigh-high stockings. Four small red satin bows surrounded each thigh and connected to a matching black garter that was discreetly hidden under her skirt. The only reason Maxwell knew what the garter looked like was because he had given her the damn set last Christmas.
    Maxwell leaned his wide shoulders against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his massive chest. At six foot four and two hundred forty pounds, he was both an intimidating and beautiful sight to behold. His anger was almost palpable as he observed his four male interns leaning conspicuously out into the aisle, ogling the same delightful, feminine curves he was watching with thunder in his eyes. He turned when Jonas chuckled and came up behind him to clap him on the shoulder.
    “Well, my friend, first let me do my duty as your best friend and say this surprise is not little, by any means. She will love it, love you, and all will be well in the Santino household by tonight or my name isn’t DeMarco. Have faith in your lady. She hates drama in her house as much as you do,” Jonas said comfortingly. “But as much as I want to stay and wallow in your domestic despair with you, I have a lunch date in twenty minutes with a lady friend who’s feeling amorous in the extreme. If I don’t come back after one o’clock, know that I’m enjoying the kindness of some female companionship. Consider it my Christmas gift to myself,” Jonas informed with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye.
    “You know you’re taking advantage of being a forty-nine-percent shareholder in this company, right?” scoffed Maxwell. “Your licentious tendencies and lagging work ethic are not amusing to this fifty-one percent.”
    Jonas laughed mightily and wiggled his eyebrows.
    “If you met Stephanie, you would agree that giving up those two percent to you and your obvious disapproval are so worth it. Besides, you’re the figurehead here and the one with the final say. I’m just your genius second-in-command. No one cares what I do, and I like it that way. I’ll see you in the morning…maybe. ” With a cheery whistle, Jonas sauntered toward the office elevators with a jaunty wave.
    “Reprobate,” muttered Maxwell as he shut the door to his office, effectively blocking his view of Fiona laughing uproariously with a gaggle of office co-workers.
    * * *
    Fiona couldn’t deny she was being deliberately overt in her holiday festivities this week: hanging lights on her office door, bringing in Christmas cookies to meetings, and finally delivering office gifts. She loved the holiday and the values it