Holiday Escort: A Christmas Novella

by Williams, Shanora

  “Yes, but it will also wear you out.”

  My lips press.

  She looks up at me, meeting my eyes. “Are you happy with Matthew? He’s a handsome guy, by the way. I don’t know how you bagged that man.”

  I let out a coy laugh, as if Matthew is really mine. Oh, get a grip, Piper. “I am very happy with him. We are really good together.”

  “And how long has it been for you guys again?”

  “Eight months.” I nod.

  “Eight? Wow. That’s a long time. Well, don’t let him go. He seems like a real keeper. I can’t wait to get to know him a little more when everyone’s awake.”

  “He’s a great guy.”

  “Great in bed too, apparently,” she says, snorting.

  I gasp, giving her a look of horror. “Oh my God! Lena! You heard!?”

  “I heard enough! I tried not to listen as I walked by to get my cellphone from the living room, but I did catch an earful. Did he say something about Santa giving you coal?” she chortles, dropping her fork and clutching herself.

  I groan, face palming myself dramatically. “Oh my goodness. You weren’t supposed to hear any of that, Lena.” I can feel my face burning, my embarrassment on full display.

  “Don’t worry,” she says, standing from her stool, scraping her plate off and placing it in the sink, “I won’t tell a soul. But you sounded like you had a good time. That’s all that matters, right?” She walks towards the mouth of the kitchen, winking over her shoulder. “Keep it up, Pipey. Stay happy. I admire you for not always caving in to what our parents demand of us. Whether they want to admit it or not, I know Mom and Dad are actually really proud of you too.”

  Wow. Are they really?

  “That’s good to know.”

  I watch her walk away, listening to her footsteps travel down the hallway. After I finish my glass of wine, I place it in the sink, and then I turn and lean my back against it, smiling—not only because of what she’s just told me, but because I am damn proud of myself, too.

  Now I feel sort of idiotic for bringing Matthew with me. Maybe I didn’t need to hire a pretend boyfriend to please my parents. Maybe I just needed to stick with my dreams, my goals, and hope for the best.

  For their approval.

  For their appreciation.

  It was bound to come sooner or later, but with Matthew here, maybe I’ll hear those exact words coming out of their mouths before this Christmas weekend is officially over.

  * * *

  The sun is bright when I wake up, the light seeping through my cracked eyelids.

  I groan, flipping onto my stomach and checking the alarm clock with one eye open. It’s nearing 7:30 AM.

  I look to my left, noticing Matthew isn’t in bed. My eyes travel over to where his suitcase is, a pair of clothes folded neatly on top of the chair.

  I should get up. Everyone will be in the kitchen within the next half-hour.

  Pushing out of bed with a heavy yawn, I tread toward the bathroom, pushing the door open.

  I gasp when I spot Matthew in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist, and those impeccable abs on display again.

  He’s just finished brushing his teeth, placing his toothbrush in the plastic bag. When he hears the door open he turns halfway, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Finally awake, sleepyhead?”

  I rub my eyes, shaking my head. “Yeah. I’m tired. Stayed up way late last night.”

  “Yeah, I woke up around 4:30. You weren’t in bed. Thought something was wrong until I saw you when I woke up again.”

  “I went to the kitchen for a glass of wine and caught Lena in there. We talked for a while.”

  “Really? What about?”

  “Just… life in general.” I grip the doorknob, focusing on my bare shoulder. “You wanna know what she said to me that actually surprised me?”

  “What’s that?”

  “She said she admired me for doing what I wanted with my life instead of what Mom and Dad wanted me to do.” I fold my arms, leaning against the wall as Matthew turns to face me. “She also said she loves her kids to death, loves her husband as well and wouldn’t trade them for the world, but if she could go back, she would. She wanted to major in interior design. Our parents said it was a dumb idea so she never went through with it.”

  “Wow.”

  “Also, I think she may have admitted that she and Bailey are their happy little ass-kissers.”

  I laugh as he does.

  When the merriment simmers, his eyes run over the length of me before pulling up and sighing. “How do you feel?”

  I look into his eyes, knowing exactly what his question is implying.

  “Exhausted,” I say, stepping forward and grabbing my toothbrush.

  I pick up the tube of toothpaste and add a dab, brushing my teeth quickly. All the while I can feel him watching me, glaring at me from behind.

  I shut off the water but before I can put my toothbrush away, Matthew is standing behind me, pressing against me.

  His groin pushes into my ass, and I look at him through the mirror.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, eyes narrowed.

  “Saying good morning the way a real boyfriend would.” He kisses the crook of my neck and I nearly melt inside. The heat travels down, building up in my most sacred area.

  I drop my toothbrush and turn in his arms, looking up to meet his honey eyes. “Wait—” I press a hand against his chest. “I thought you said this shouldn’t happen anymore.” I point between us, confused.

  “Did I say that?”

  “You sure did.”

  “Well, maybe what I meant is this shouldn’t happen much.”

  My eyes widen, and I bite my lower lip, fighting a grin. “You’re serious right now, aren’t you?”

  He responds with a kiss on my cheek and a gentle push into my hips.

  “But isn’t that breaking all of your ‘escort’ rules?” I make air parentheses with my fingers.

  “Possibly…”

  “God, you are so confusing,” I whisper, our lips a hair’s-breadth away.

  “Trust me, I’ve confused myself about you.” He looks me over, his tongue running across his lips. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking about all morning?”

  He grips my waist and picks me up. My butt lands on the counter, and he steps between my parted legs, a smirk on his lips.

  “What?”

  “What happened last night wasn’t enough.” He studies my lips. “I need more, Piper. A lot more. I know we only have about twenty-five minutes, but,” he murmurs, pulling my shorts down my legs and tossing them in the corner. “I’ll be quick.” His lips land on the bend of my neck again, and he sucks, causing a tingling sensation to shoot through my legs. “I promise.”

  His towel drops to the floor, the thick white fabric forming into a puddle around his feet. He moves in closer between my legs until he’s so close I feel his hot member poking at my entrance.

  Pulling me towards the edge of the counter, he cups my face in his hands, and focuses on my mouth, but he doesn’t kiss them.

  “Do you realize how beautiful you are?”

  My breath becomes labored as I shut my eyes, whirling inside from his touch.

  “Your family doesn’t see what I see. A flawless, beautiful, independent woman.” Before I can open my eyes, Matthew is deep inside me, hugging me against his hard, chiseled body.

  “Matthew,” I breathe. “I—we shouldn’t. Really.”

  “I know… but we can’t help it. I can’t help it. If I want something, I go after it.”

  “But why do you want me?” I ask as he picks me up off the counter and turns for the wall. My back bumps against it, and he grunts, building up a quick pace, his ball sack slapping between my cheeks.

  I look over his shoulder with my arms latched around his neck, and I get the perfect view of his toned ass in the mirror. Someone does squats.

  “I like your free spirit,” he breat
hes in my ear, his fingers curling around the nape of my neck. “I like knowing that you really don’t need me, but that you still crave every inch of me.”

  I bite into my bottom lip, staring into his eyes.

  His jaw locks as he focuses on mine, and then he cups my ass, grinding into me, hips circling, body tightening. My back bows against the wall, my eyes sealing.

  I can feel my breasts bouncing, but before I can cup one of them, his lips seal around my nipple, sucking, bringing me up to ultimate pleasure, even more so when his beard grazes my skin.

  “Shit,” I hear him growl as he brings his head back up. He gropes my ass, sighing, breathing deep. “Your body feels so incredible, Piper. So fucking good.”

  I hold onto him, my fingernails sliding down his muscular back. My hands fall lower, cupping his perfectly sculpted ass and forcing him deeper.

  It’s the magic trick.

  Just like that, Matthew groans, grinding harder, deeper, panting heavily in my ear.

  He squeezes my ass in his large hands, spanks me twice, and before he can come, he pulls out, places me on my feet, forces me to my knees, and demands for me to open my mouth.

  I drop my chin, and he aims for my tongue, rigidly stroking his thick cock, groaning while the veins on his arms and neck bulge. When he releases, it is such a beautiful sight to see: watching him completely let go.

  He thrusts his hips forward and shoves himself into my mouth, planting his hands on the wall above.

  I take him whole, gagging a bit, but not too much. He watches me with eyes that are lit with fire, twitching when I pull back and circle the head of his cock with my tongue, swallowing every drop he gives me.

  When I feel him going limp between my lips, I pull back, and he sighs, offering a hand and helping me to a stand.

  But what he does next is completely unexpected.

  Apparently Matthew Cooper is a man who believes a woman should be just as satisfied as a man.

  Lifting me up, he sits me on the counter, bends on one knee, brings my ass to the edge of the counter, spreads my legs apart, and eats me like breakfast.

  An unintentional squeal fills the bathroom, and this time I’m sure someone will hear it. I try and keep it down, but the constant flicks of his tongue, the way it moves so quickly while diving deep into my entrance, is enough for me to come undone.

  “I knew you’d taste good,” he growls between my legs. “I could spend hours between your legs, Piper.” He kisses the insides of my thighs, his mouth so close to my sex I can still feel his tongue there. “Teasing,” he groans, tracing his tongue along the lips. “Sucking… sipping… tasting all of you.”

  His hard, honey eyes move up to mine, and he snatches my hips forward, gluing his mouth to my clit and sucking.

  He holds me hostage, eating so ravenously my legs end up locking around his face.

  He sucks until he sees me trembling, licking and lapping, spreading my legs wider apart until I shatter and my back hits the mirror.

  “Holy shit,” I cry, hoping it can’t be heard. It’s a shame I don’t care if it was. This feeling has to be cherished. It needs to be fulfilled.

  My legs shake, and with one final, gradual roll of his tongue between my folds, Matthew lets up, grinning at me from between my legs.

  “Weren’t expecting that?” He’s clearly proud of his accomplishment.

  Hell, I’m proud of him. A man that loves to please. Now that’s a dream come true. Too bad this can only last for a couple more hours.

  “Not at all,” I pant. “You are seriously starting to astound me, escort.”

  He chuckles, pushing to a stand and helping me off the counter. “Then I’m doing my job right, Piper Madison.”

  Right. His job.

  He steps back and turns for the sink. “Come on,” he says, running the water from the faucet. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m sure your parents will be waiting for us.”

  I smile at him through the mirror. “Let’s just hope they didn’t hear us.”

  He winks at my reflection. “Let’s hope.”

  Chapter 8

  Piper

  After sitting at the table for nearly an hour over a cup of coffee, a pancake, and some bacon, we are finally finished with our cards to Monty.

  Stanley intentionally slept in so he didn’t have make one. He watched us all when he finally made his morning debut, annoyed that we’d actually done it. I’d be with him on this, but I want to wish Monty a good Christmas, especially if I can’t see him in person.

  I’m guessing Stanley couldn’t convince the clinic of letting Monty go. Sad that not even phone calls are allowed. What kind of place did my parents put him?

  After Mom collects the cards, stuffing them in her purse to ship in the mail, we run to the store for small things like cinnamon, vanilla extract, milk, and sugar cookie dough.

  As we stroll the aisles, Mom, Bailey, and Lena chatting away about their lives and Bailey bragging about her big holiday bonus at her job on Wall Street, my mind is centered on one thing.

  Matthew Cooper.

  He’s better in bed than I imagined but now I feel like a fool. After Doug told me I wasn’t wife material, I try to avoid getting too attached to anyone.

  He made it clear that because I work so much, and spend my free time thrift shopping, that I’m not capable of anything serious.

  So, because I have a passion for something in life, I’m not meant to be married? My belief is that Doug is intimidated by my independence. And the truth is, sometimes I am too.

  I’m afraid of it because I’m so good at being alone. I don’t mind going to the movies by myself with a large bucket of popcorn and a frozen drink.

  I don’t mind going into work early and then leaving later than everyone else, to finish something or work on a new project that won’t be due for weeks.

  I don’t mind watching Netflix alone or making margaritas at home and singing so loudly the neighbors file complaints.

  I don’t. I really don’t because I love my apartment. I love my job. I love my clothes. I love binging on coffee and donuts in the mornings and then getting on my elliptical to burn the calories right off. I love doing what I want.

  To put it simply, I love my life and who I am and I wouldn’t trade it for a single damn thing in this world.

  I can’t help but think what if?

  What if Matthew and I actually took this past the weekend? What if he became my occasional fling instead of stupid Doug?

  I’m too afraid to think of that. What if it got serious? What if we wanted more later on? It would never work because his job would be a huge issue for me, and I work so much he’d hardly get to see me.

  It’s not that I’m afraid of commitment. It’s just that commitment and I don’t make the best of partners.

  I depart from my sisters and Mom, going down the book aisle. I spot a comic book bundle for The Walking Dead and smile when I remember Matthew saying how much he loved the series.

  I pick it up without checking the price. I know I’m paying him and all, but if we’re going to play the part I have to make sure he has a gift tomorrow, right?

  I take the collection along with me, running into Mom by the dairy section. “What you got there, sweetie?” she asks, looking down at the books.

  “Oh, they’re for Matthew.”

  “Matthew? Really? He likes comic books?”

  “Loves them,” I say with moderate exaggeration.

  “I didn’t expect a guy like him to like comic books.” Her response is snarky. Apparently reading comic books during downtime is not a suitable pursuit.

  I don’t respond to her, and when the twins and Lena round the corner with boxes of sugary cereal in hand, I’m glad.

  “Oh, look at my babies,” Mom coos as Jana and Joey rush for her, shouting “grandma look!” repeatedly. Lena looks at me and sighs. I give her a knowing look, smiling sweetly.

  Someone bumps into my right shoulder and when I look up, I meet Bailey’s green eyes. �
�So, baby sister! You and Matthew, huh? How long do you think this will last?”

  “I don’t have a timer on it, Bailey,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

  “Hey!” She throws her hands in the air, giving a not-guilty stance. “I’m just asking a question. He’s such a good guy and we all know how you tend to run the good guys out of your life.”

  I turn to face her. “Oh yeah? And what about you, Bailey?” I fold my arms, cocking a brow. “I don’t see you bringing home Mr. Right.”

  “That’s because I’m enjoying my life and taking care of myself.”

  I scoff. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Oh, girls, come on,” Mom says, looking between us. “It’s the holidays. Let’s not be catty.”

  “We aren’t.” I shrug. “Bailey and I are just kidding. We do this all the time, Mom.” I look into Bailey’s eyes as I speak, and she narrows hers.

  “Whatever,” she mumbles, turning and picking up a can of whipped cream.

  Funny. You’d think she was the baby sister with how petty she acts.

  “So, editing is going good?” Lena asks me, stepping forward as she drops a box of oatmeal in the cart.

  “Editing is great,” I respond. “Never better.”

  “Have you met anyone famous?” she inquires, smiling.

  “Not yet… but there is supposed to be this new singer coming to take pictures with our advertisement department. I might sneak in and check it out.”

  “Who cares?” Bailey mutters.

  “Bailey, could you chill out?” Lena snaps, looking her hard in the eyes.

  Bailey throws her arms in the air. “What?! No one cares about her job!”

  “Just because you don’t care doesn’t mean we don’t,” Mom butts in.

  Everyone stares at Bailey, the twins included.

  “God, what is your deal?” Lena asks with a slight hiss.

  Bailey’s eyes water, and I stare at her, confused. “Bailey, are you okay?” Mom asks.

  “You don’t seem okay. You’ve been acting… meaner than usual,” I state.