Sophie never considered herself one for clichés, but when the office Christmas party rolled around, she figured she might as well lean into the festive spirit—or at least the sparkly green mini-dress that hugged her curves like it was tailor-made for temptation.

The HR department had transformed the breakroom into a winter wonderland, complete with a twinkling tree, strategically placed mistletoe, and an industrial-sized punch bowl of spiked eggnog. Sophie nursed her drink as she watched her coworkers sway to a sultry remix of “Santa Baby.”

“You look like trouble,” came a deep voice behind her.

Sophie turned to find James, the tall, dark, and infuriatingly cocky marketing exec, leaning against the wall with a devilish smirk. His tie was loose, the top buttons of his shirt undone to reveal just a hint of his toned chest.

“And you look like you’ve had too much eggnog,” she retorted, though the spark in his eyes sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

“Maybe,” he said, stepping closer. “Or maybe I’m just warming up.”

Before she could respond, Lily appeared at her side, dragging her onto the dance floor. “Come on, Soph! Show them what you’ve got!”

The beat picked up, and Sophie, fueled by a mix of rum and holiday cheer, decided to let loose. She moved with abandon, her hips swaying, her dress catching the light with every turn. The crowd hooted and hollered, and somewhere in the back, James was watching her like she was the only thing in the room.

“Dance-off!” someone shouted.

Sophie laughed as the circle widened, the attention squarely on her. She spun, feeling the rush of exhilaration as she twirled—until her heel caught on the edge of her dress.

The fabric slipped, and in one smooth, horrifyingly erotic moment, the sequined mini slid up and over her hips. She stood there, frozen, in nothing but a lacy red thong and thigh-high stockings that left little to the imagination.

A collective gasp filled the room, followed by a stunned silence.

And then—applause.

Sophie’s cheeks flamed, but before she could move, James appeared beside her, draping his jacket over her shoulders. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear.

“Looks like you’ve been more naughty than nice,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Her pulse quickened as he guided her off the dance floor, the heat in his gaze promising an entirely different kind of holiday celebration.

“Where are we going?” she asked, barely able to keep up as he led her toward the empty conference room.

“Somewhere we can discuss your performance,” he said, locking the door behind them.

James stepped closer, his hands sliding under the jacket to grip her waist. “That dress was a crime, by the way,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. “Far too many sequins. But this...” He trailed his fingers along the edge of her stockings, making her shiver. “This is perfection.”

Sophie let out a soft moan as his lips found hers, his kiss as intoxicating as the eggnog. She melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as his touch sent sparks down her spine.

“You’ve been a very bad girl,” he whispered, his voice a low growl.

“Then punish me,” she replied, her voice breathless with anticipation.

James’s hands roamed lower, cupping the curve of her thighs and lifting her onto the conference table. The cool surface against her bare skin made her gasp, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his touch.

“Let’s see if you’ve been naughty enough to deserve this,” he said, his fingers slipping under the lace of her thong.

Sophie’s breath hitched as he teased her, his touch maddeningly slow. She arched into him, desperate for more, but he held back, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

“Patience,” he murmured, his lips tracing a line down her neck. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“I don’t want to wait,” she said, her voice breathy and raw.

James chuckled, his hands gripping her thighs as he kissed her again, harder this time. The world outside faded away, the sounds of the party replaced by the heady rhythm of their breaths.

He pushed her back onto the table, his lips exploring every inch of her skin as her fingers clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel him against her. The intensity of his touch, the heat of his body—it was overwhelming, intoxicating, everything she hadn’t known she craved.

And when he finally gave her what she wanted, the sensation was so exquisite it left her trembling, her cries muffled against his shoulder.

As they lay tangled together on the table, their breaths slowly returning to normal, James brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes warm and full of mischief.

“Merry Christmas, Sophie,” he said, his voice soft but filled with promise.

She smiled, her cheeks still flushed. “Best Christmas ever.”

And as the sounds of the party carried on outside, Sophie decided that Christmas miracles were real after all.