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Jessika Klide


  A Scrooged Christmas

  Jessika Klide

  Copyright © 2017 Jessika Klide, LLC

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, named features, artists and bands are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used for reference and without permission. The publication / use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Created with Vellum


  Zane - A Scrooged Christmas

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10


  Braxton - A Scrooged Christmas by BSM Stoneking

  Brendan: A Scrooged Christmas by Jennifer Domenico

  Daxton: A Scrooged Christmas by Julia Goda

  Grayson: A Scrooged Christmas by Regina Frame

  Luke: A Scrooged Christmas by CP Smith

  Michael: A Scrooged Christmas by F.G. Adams

  Silas: A Scrooged Christmas by Winter Travers

  Travis: A Scrooged Christmas by Tracie Douglas

  Zaiden: A Scrooged Christmas by Mayra Statham

  Also by Jessika Klide

  Also by Jessika Klide

  Also by Jessika Klide

  Also by Jessika Klide

  Also by Jessika Klide

  Also by Jessika Klide

  Also by Jessika Klide

  About the Author

  Zane - A Scrooged Christmas

  Zane Lockhart is a coldhearted, selfish Las Vegas cop who hates Christmas and proudly owns the nickname, Sergeant Scrooge. Refusing to celebrate it in any way except the bellowing of "Bah Humbug," he insists it’s just another day.

  While on patrol with his new partner, a K9 cop named, Bruce Wayne aka Batman, he has a chance encounter with a hot chick and sets up a midnight date with her. Off-duty and ready to score a hookup, the two are getting acquainted, when a robbery occurs and Zane comes face to face with a past full of scars, and a present full of secrets.

  This Christmas discover that real heroes are born not made, that love is truly magical, that "Bah Humbug" can be weaponized, and a future full of sorrow can be rescued.

  (This book is intended for 18+)

  Zane: A Scrooged Christmas

  is part of a collaborated collection with

  ten amazing authors connected by

  A Scrooged Christmas theme.

  A list is provided at the end of this story.


  "I hate Christmas," I tell Bruce Wayne, driving the cruiser to the casino. "It’s the only time of the year I hate, but I do." I see his questioning look in the rearview mirror. "Why? Oh, I have my reasons. More than one actually, but the obvious one is, it’s prime hunting grounds for thieves." I glance at him and he is listening intently. "That’s why you and I are doing this type patrol. We are peacekeepers and our very presence can deter criminals. On Christmas Eve last minute shoppers are in too big a hurry and will throw caution to the wind. They’ll leave their purses on the counter while they run over and look at just one more thing, then boom, it’s stolen." I enter the parking lot, then pull into a spot designated for security. "So, be on your toes. Got it? They may be able to outrun me, but they can’t outrun you." I laugh and he looks impatient to get started. I turn around, reach over the seat and ruffle his hair. He shakes his head and flaps his ears, making me chuckle.

  This is my fifth year on the force with the Las Vegas Police Department and my first with my new partner, Bruce Wayne, aka Batman. He’s a German Shepard with a black face. I found him in the pound, half starved, and with a few scars. No telling what his history is, but he is one smart animal. He graduated from the academy three months ago and is a top cop, but he’s still a rookie and it is my job to train him, show him the ropes, and protect him.

  My phone rings and I answer it. "Sup, Sir?" It’s my Captain.

  "Do you know they are calling you Sergeant Scrooge around here?"

  "Yes, sir," I chuckle and wink at Bruce Wayne.

  "Do you know why?"

  "I believe I do."

  "Then tell me why." I hear his wife in the background bitching to him, and I know she’s put him up to calling me. Otherwise, he wouldn’t say anything. I’m known at the department for being the hard ass. I don’t cater to anyone. I do my own thing. I march to my own beat. Once you understand that, we get along just fine. I am a team player, but I’m not going to give you the shirt off my back. I take care of myself and it is your responsibility to take care of yourself. I’m not your babysitter or your bank. Obviously, he hasn’t explained that to her.

  I give him a smart ass answer. "Because my 'Bah Humbug!' is killer good?"

  "No. Try again." He sounds stressed out. The holiday is getting to him and I’m sure she has been hounding him and not properly pounding him.

  "Because when I signed up to play Dirty Santa, I thought it was a different kind of game?"

  "No." He pauses. I hear her talking again, then he says for her benefit. "Really? Good grief." He tries to sound annoyed, but he knows me. He knows I’m not giving in and this is his way of getting her off his back. I’m the bad guy, not him. "Because you’re the only cop on the entire force that didn’t contribute to my wife’s Christmas fund drive."

  He scored big points with that, I smirk. "Oh, that’s why? I thought it was because I wouldn’t donate $50." I make it sound like I agree that that is a better reason for not handing over my hard earned money to some useless charity.

  He hesitates and I know he’s reading her to see how to play this. "So, she can count on you to give?"

  "Umm, hell no," I grin, knowing I just set him up perfectly and knowing he’s smart enough to get what I did.

  Now, he’ll be off the hook and she can run my name in the ground, instead of harassing him to "make" me. He’ll be cool when I get back, but for her benefit, he sounds outraged.

  "Jesus H. Christ, you’re selfish. Sergeant Scrooge fits you."

  I laugh. "Like a glove, sir."

  He hangs up and I roll my eyes, shaking my head, then explain myself to Bruce Wayne as if he understands. "It’s not that I don’t have the money, I do. I don’t make a lot of money, but I live a very modest life and I save every dime I make. I learned a long time ago to take care of myself because no one else is going to. I don’t owe anyone anything and I sure as hell don’t owe his wife a donation or an explanation."

  His tongue hangs out and he pants not judging me. That’s one of the best parts of having a K9 partner. He believes every word I say and never disagrees with me.

  I open the door. "Ok, Batman, it’s time to go." When he hears his superhero name, his training kicks in. Ears alert, eyes roaming, sniffer testing the air, he’s all business.

  I hook his leash and we head inside.


  Our job tonight is considered community outreach. Our Public Relations department came up with the idea, and it seems like a good plan. We are supposed to mingle and be accessible to the public while keeping our eyes and ears alert to anyone who wants to take from the rich and give to themselves.

  Walking among the people at the high-end retail stores, females of all ages stop and fawn over Batman. I catch a few eyes too. I see them eyeing my guns. Not my pistol. My bulging biceps, so I flex 'em for them. I enjoy making wome
n cream in their jeans. I workout in the weight room regularly and never eat doughnuts. My partner and I run too. We are in perfect form and make a striking pair.

  When the latest drooling pair of women with too much time and money on their hands walks away out of earshot, I tell him. "Did I mention I got an email earlier this month that we’ve been chosen to be the Face of the Force and that we’ll be on the cover of this year's calendar? Yeah," I grin at him. "We’re going to do a photo shoot next month."

  I smirk when he looks up at me and I reach down to pat his side. "It’s hell being this good-looking, isn’t it? You’re a stud; get used to it."

  A soft, sultry voice that catches my attention and sends my cock a message to pay attention to this one says behind me, "Oh, he is definitely a stud."

  When I turn to see who the woman is that has such a sexy voice, my heart almost stops beating. She is as beautiful as her voice is. A gorgeous brunette with thick, long curls, a body that makes a man have wet dreams and eyes only for the dog. "What’s his name?"

  "Bruce Wayne."

  "Ah, he’s a superhero in hiding." She turns her soft, sweet face to mine and in that moment when our eyes connect, my dick hardens immediately. They are a soft caramel color. I’ve had a thing for light brown eyes for as long as I can remember. "He’s a handsome specimen." She smiles and her red lips spread across perfect straight teeth, bleached bright white.

  My imagination pictures them closing around my tight meat and I feel my balls begin to draw up and fill up. "When he’s on duty, he’s Batman." I offer up, knowing he will show out and she will appreciate it.

  He stands with his ears up and eyes glancing around, alert and aware of what his job is.

  "Ah, that is fitting." She leans over to speak to him and the view is too amazing not to enjoy. "Thank you for protecting us from the villains, Batman."

  He flattens his ears and wags his tail a couple of times.

  Ah, he likes her. I smirk. Good taste, buddy. There’s a lot to like.

  "I love GSDs." She tells me and reaches out to pat him on the head and rub his ears.

  Her braless tits look as if they are about to fall out of the loose tank top she is wearing. My hand flexes, ready to catch them if they do and the thought that I can’t catch loose tits in uniform, especially in a casino full of people, makes me swallow hard. But fuck, they are tempting, and I shift Bruce Wayne’s leash to hold with both hands to hide their twitch. My eyes travel to her ass poked out in that perfect rear pounding position, and I shift my weight because this spectacular view has made my cock rise to the occasion. My eyes travel down from her ass to her stiletto’s and I admire her firm, shapely legs. She gently shakes her head as she speaks to him and her thick curls dance on her back, making me want to wrap my hand around them and pull that head back in submission.

  Fuck! Angry that she’s having this effect on me, I pull Batman’s leash twice, signaling to him to start patrolling again.

  He looks at me with a 'what the hell' look, then completely out of character for him, he disobeys and sits down.

  She kneels in front of him, puts both hands on the sides of his face and speaks goo-goo girl talk to him.

  I don’t hear a word she says. All I see is the deep crevice her cleavage is creating and think how my cock would love to slide all oiled up in-between them, then feel the pre-cum that seeps out the tip.

  I realize she’s stopped talking, so I drag my eyes off her generous display and look her in the eye. She tilts her head, then says with a tone that’s off-putting, "Excuse me?"

  Fuck. I thought she was perfect, but here’s her bitch mode. I was staring too hard at her assets while I’m on duty. The uniform doesn’t turn off the male that lives inside. If anything, it accentuates the alpha male aspect. But I clear my throat, look away and focus on the hoard of people passing by. I’m a professional, but I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she stands up.

  "Excuse me." She says again as a statement and lays her hand on my forearm. Her touch creates a spark inside me. and that spot becomes the focus of the sexual tension for me. I tell myself firmly again, I’m a professional, and take a deep breath. Then I turn and face her composed and in control. But looking into those soft yellowish brown eyes keeps my dick hard and I have a hell of a time keeping my hunger out of my eyes.

  When she starts looking me up and down, admiring my bulked up physique, I have to bite my tongue. She’s making it hard as hell to stay focused on the job.

  "Well, I’ll be damned, Zane. You’re looking fine."

  What the hell? She knows me? Do I know her? I frown and look at her with new eyes. I don’t have a fucking clue who this chick is. Maybe I hooked up with her in college. I did attend more than a few drunken parties. But this chick is seriously beautiful and I can’t believe I would forget tapping that. Ever. Drunk or not.

  She smirks. "You don’t remember me?"

  I answer honestly. "I could never forget a beauty like you."

  She smiles, knowing that was just a pickup line. "So, you became a cop, huh?"

  "Yes," I play along hoping I can figure out how I know her or at least bluff my way back to her place after work tonight and hookup. I need to get laid. "And you? What are you doing now?"

  "I’m a dancer at Been Jammin’. You should stop by and see me sometime."

  "I will." I grin, and she smirks, knowing I will. "Are you dancing tonight?"

  Now she laughs. "No, not tonight. Seary puts on a big Christmas Eve show so I’m off tonight."

  "Oh really?" I grin bigger. "I’m getting off at midnight tonight. Maybe we can grab a bite and catch up?"

  She grins too, takes her phone out, then hands it to me. "That would be amazing." Then she kneels down to goo-goo talk to Batman again and tells him something incomprehensible.

  He wags his tail and enjoys her attention while I enter my digits and my name. I quickly scan to see who she is, but no luck before she stands and reaches for it.

  "Where shall we go?" I ask her.

  "You still love pizza?"

  "It’s my favorite food. Shall we meet up at Blake’s?"

  "Perfect. See you then." She tells us, then disappears into the crowd.

  Batman looks at me and I explain it to him. "I have no idea who she is, but a chick that hot deserves my attention."


  The remainder of the night is uneventful and filled with the same female adoration and attention, but no one holds a candle to the mysterious brunette from my past.

  When our shift is up, Batman and I head back to the station. As soon as we enter the locker room to change, Christmas music blasts us and I grit my teeth. It is like nails scratching a chalkboard for me. I hate Christmas. I lost my mother when I was four in a car accident on Christmas Day, or so my father told me. I don’t remember. But I do remember losing my stepmother the week before Christmas when I was twelve. That I remember very well, but I wasn’t upset about it. She was a real bitch and Dad should never have married her. She made our lives miserable. But I was upset that Christmas though because Dad’s gift was to pack us up and move us across town to live. After that, we never celebrated Christmas. Wasn’t any point to the holiday. I knew Santa was a lie and we didn’t have any money anyway. Besides the fact that the old man wasn’t a shopper. I had to do it all, so every dime I made, I spent on me. Clothes, shoes, blah, blah, blah. Christmas is just another day.

  "I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas" is playing now and I die laughing. We live in fucking Nevada. I shout, "Bah Humbug, Motherfuckers! Turn that shit off."

  Several guys return it with a robust "Bah Humbug, Sergeant Scrooge! Fuck you!"

  I shake my head and start to strip out of my uniform and into street clothes. My buddy, Mike, strolls over.

  "Zane, my wife wants me to invite you over for Christmas dinner. She’s worried you’ll be all alone."

  I grin at him. "Tell her not to worry about me. I’m going to be doing just fine around dinner time tomorrow."

got plans?" Mike asks surprised.

  "I got a plan." I wink and give him a head nod.

  "Sup?" He grins back. He’s been married too long and his love life is nonexistent. He enjoys hearing about my conquests and I enjoying sharing them with him.

  "I’ve got a date," I tell him all smiles.

  "How did you manage to score a woman tonight?"

  I look down at Batman. "The dog is a real chick magnet."

  We laugh together at that truth.

  "Women of all ages were fawning over him like he was a cute puppy."

  "They have no idea, he could take their heads off?"

  "None," I agree. "But seriously, he did excellent with the huge crowds and all the shoppers, didn’t you, Bruce Wayne?" He looks at me with tired eyes. "But I think he’s ready for some peace and quiet." I lean down and pat his side. "You’re a good boy," I tell him in my masculine version of goo-goo dog talk and the hot chick’s face with the sultry voice floats by, then her nice tits followed by her tight ass. My dick thumps reminding me the sooner I get to the pizza joint, the sooner he’ll get oiled up. I slip my shoes on. "I’m meeting her at Blake’s for pizza, then I’m going to convince her I got her Christmas magic right here." I grab my package and swag it.

  He laughs. "Call me when you get home. I can’t wait to hear what happened."

  I close my locker and right on cue, Bruce Wayne is up and on point, leading the way.

  Mike calls after us. "Bruce Wayne is welcome to hang at our house if you need us to dog sit. You know, Margie loves him."

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