Christmas With Cassandra: A Billionaire Holiday Tale

by Cynthia Dane

  “What?” Kathryn turned her head so quickly that the messy bun on the back of her head almost came undone. “No woman’s ever fucked you up. Except me.”

  “I’m not talking about that,” Ian was quick to say. “I wasn’t in love with her. Not like that. We had some fun.”

  “You two had sex.”

  “Of course we had sex. This is me we’re talking about. And Cassandra, apparently.”

  What Ian failed to mention was that dating Cassandra was like dating a sexual black hole. From the moment he was pulled into her gravity at a party her father threw, he was in deep shit. The closer he got to her event horizon, the more he realized he was going to regret getting too involved with her. Too late. By then, they were having sex every which way to the Sunday after next. Sometimes Cassandra would stop by his place at midnight for a quickie. Other times she would call him and make him come to her for sex. Ian never dealt with those kinds of demands outside of Kathryn, who actually made them sexy. Cassandra, though… something about her tugged at his heart and made him obey without a second thought. Perhaps it was the wisp in her voice. Vulnerable. Sweet. Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this time the man she was with was the one. “Do you know what I want more than anything?” she once asked Ian. “A prince charming I can call my own.”

  He had often sensed her desperation whenever they had sex. Unfortunately, this was during a time in Ian’s life when he had little regard for his girlfriends’ emotions and what they wanted outside of the bedroom. If Cassandra asked for anal with a side of dirty-slut role-play, then hey, the Ian of his early 20s was happy to oblige. Thinking about Cassandra provided one of many opportunities for him to contemplate how much he had changed in the past few years.

  “You know what she told me when she broke up with me?” And for Ian to admit that it was her who broke off the relationship was a big deal. Even after dating Kathryn for as long as they had been together, he still didn’t like to reveal a lack of masculinity in his past self. What if it gave her ideas? “She said that I wasn’t the prince she was looking for.”

  Kathryn guffawed, not only shaking against her boyfriend’s body, but sending a large splash of water over the side of the tub. “You! Prince charming? Who the fuck did she think she was dating? In what point of your life had you ever conveyed the image of a prince?” And for someone like Cassandra, who had always been rich beyond means, to be looking for a prince in the kind of man who had grown up with many of her same privileges? Bullshit. There was something addled in that woman’s brain. Men like Ian were not raised to be princes. They were raised to be kings, and kings played by different rules from princes.

  “I have no idea. I blew it off at first, but something about it stuck in my head for a long time. I drank a lot for a few weeks. Kinda blacked out for a while. Like I said, it wasn’t that I was in love with her or anything, but something about what she said insinuated that I wasn’t good boyfriend material. You should have seen her face when she broke up with me. I swear to God she had been crying. Somehow I had broken her heart!”

  Imagine that, Kathryn thought. Playboy Ian had broken a girl’s heart. Not surprising when he had almost broken her heart a time or two.

  “So what if she’s coming back into town? I doubt we’ll see her.”

  “Are you kidding? Her family are the ones throwing that party we’re going to right before Christmas.”

  “Oh.”

  “I doubt you’ll have to interact with her, though.”

  “I’m more worried about you, love.”

  “Hm?” Kathryn snuggled against him. This time she didn’t think anything of his cock hardening against her back. That was what she signed up for when she got into a bath with him, after all. “Why’s that?”

  “She clearly got over me since she went on to date some our more unscrupulous contemporaries.”

  “Ha! You don’t have to tell me. Some of them bragged about fucking her before they fucked me.” Kathryn knew exactly who to have in mind when she said that. She wondered how a man like that would take the news of Cassandra coming back into town.

  “That said, she may not take kindly to you being the one so serious with me now.”

  “Fuck her.” Kathryn didn’t mean that literally. She had heard tales of Cassandra occasionally making her way toward girlfriends before going back to men, but she wasn’t in the mood to add to that pile of mistakes. “I’m sure she’s got her own life now. Besides, you’re all mine, and any woman who has a problem with that will have to go through me.”

  Ian surged against her, sending more water over the side of his tub and straight to the drain. The bathroom door a few yards away rattled with a new attendant. Two seconds later a cat paw appeared beneath the door. Someone was upset that she didn’t get to fuss with the bathwater.

  “That’s right. I’m all yours, Katie.” Once that nickname came out with that tone of voice, they both knew that the mood had changed. Ian didn’t want to talk about a woman so far in his past. He had moved on from that bizarre relationship. He didn’t doubt that Cassandra had too. (Right?) “And I have every intention of making sure you know that I’m yours for the rest of the night. How about you? Care to know how much you’re mine for the rest of our lives?”

  He always did that. Talked in absolutes, that was. “’Til the end of time. For the rest of our lives. Until the world ends. Forever and ever.” Ian had been pushing the marriage thing more and more recently. Eventually, he would get Kathryn to wear a ring on a very important finger, but until then, they were always playing this game of who got to be the most dominant one before going to bed. It was kinda how they established a relationship, after all.

  “Whooooa now,” Kathryn said with a laugh between her lips. “That’s not all you bumping into my butt there.”

  “It is,” Ian assured her. “All me and my cock.”

  “Sure a brilliant way with words, sir.”

  Kathryn had said that word with nothing but sarcasm dripping from her voice. Nevertheless, Ian, being the way he was built, took that as affirmation that he was the one in charge that night. In charge of their relationship, and definitely in charge of their sexual destiny for the next few hours.

  Good job, Kathryn. Now, whether that was yet another statement dripping in sarcasm would depend on the reader. Was it truly a good job because Kathryn was always in need of some true sexual liberation? Or was it a sarcastic good job because Kathryn had once again given up the reins in favor of being at the whim of a man?

  Did it matter if that man was good enough to fuck her self-doubt unconscious?

  “I like to think I am.” His arms wrapped tightly around her, nearly suffocating her if she didn’t breathe carefully. “Would you like to hear some more words of mine?”

  Kathryn stiffened, but only because this wasn’t what she had in mind for their romantic night together. She was interested in some relaxing by candlelight, sweet words that mentioned what they liked most about each other, and the kind of languid lovemaking that made a girl feel more in love than ever before. Then again, it was her fault for agreeing to have a “romantic” date at her boyfriend’s condo. The whole place reeked of male pheromones and sandalwood cologne. She didn’t stand a chance to have any kind of evening but Ian’s kind of domineering evening.

  If they ever got around to moving in together, that would have to be something they went over.

  “I’m sure you’re full of all sorts of words,” Kathryn grumbled. “And I’m sure they’re all grossly inappropriate.”

  “I don’t see what’s so gross or inappropriate about me shoving my cock up your ass. Honestly.”

  “Okay.” Kathryn clasped her hands on the sides of the tub and threatened to get up. “Did you miss the memo where maybe I want my own prince charming tonight? His majesty does not shove anything up my ass.”

  “That’s not what I hear about the princess living in the castle. If anything, I hear she’s a kinky devil who likes having that same ass smacked and being called a
slut from time to time.”

  “Did you ever call Cassandra that?”

  Ian released her. “Excuse me, dear princess?”

  Kathryn finally had him cornered, and not just in his tub. “You heard me. You didn’t know that’s what everyone calls her? A slut?”

  “I may have heard that a time or two. I think the reputation didn’t start up until after she dumped me, though.” Ian scoffed. “Seems like the sort of thing you wouldn’t approve of.”

  This was true. Kathryn didn’t like it when women were called certain slurs, whether in jest or not. In fact, the jest often riled her up more. Perhaps this was a pet peeve of hers that was born when she decided to take her life (and money) more seriously and put both to good use by getting involved with charities that tended to focus on the disenfranchised. This often included women who were called, for lack of better or more sophisticated terms, sluts. Kathryn’s patience had worn thread-thin within about a month after starting up her causes.

  Or perhaps it bothered her because, up until recently, it was a term people often whispered about her as well. She simply didn’t get as much flak as Cassandra because 1) Kathryn was richer and 2) Kathryn was more social with other women, whereas Cassandra spent most of her days pining after the next would-be boyfriend or being cooped up in the various estates around the world that her family owned.

  “Besides,” Kathryn deflected, “I’m not the only one in this bathroom who likes to occasionally be called a cum-slut.”

  “You’re right! I really need to talk to the cat about that.” Said cat had long given up getting in the bathroom and now spent her minutes attacking a string poking through the gap. “Just because she’s spayed doesn’t mean she gets to slut it up with every Tom coming through the neighborhood.”

  What was he trying to imply about his girlfriend? Or was Kathryn simply bordering on paranoia again?”

  “I don’t know what has you so upset.” Ian drew a wet line down Kathryn’s arm. The familiar sensation of a man who loved and doted on her briefly sent her into the grand state of euphoria. “I was never serious with her. She was a long time ago. I can’t say I feel one way or another about her coming back into town. Why do you care so much? Why should I care?”

  He had a point, but points were often not enough. Kathryn puffed her cheeks and pretended it was her idea to wrap her legs beneath her boyfriend’s the moment he began spinning lazy circles with his fingertip upon her mound. Now this was more like it! Kathryn wasn’t in the mood for hard and unrelenting – yet, anyway. She needed to be seduced, particularly when her heart was vulnerable to jealousy that didn’t make any sense.

  “Because your girlfriend has issues.”

  “I think I could take care of some of those issues before you explode from them.” A heavy finger sank between her spreading folds and flicked against her unprepared clitoris. Instantly, Kathryn’s body alit in an arousal she was not able to defeat even if she wanted to.

  She didn’t want to.

  She wanted him to hold her like this, with one of her legs dangling over the edge of the tub and her head resting back on his shoulder. When Ian truly put his mind to it, he could be one of the most doting, most attentive boyfriends on the planet. Something Kathryn greatly appreciated when her heart began to flutter with anxiety.

  “I love you,” he said directly into her ear. He also chose that moment to gently rub her clit, sending Kathryn into a fit of gasps and desperate squirming against his body. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Katie. What do you want for Christmas? It’s all yours.”

  Naturally, what Kathryn wanted most couldn’t be purchased with all the money associated with Ian’s name. But he could still give it to her, as he steadily had ever since they decided to make this relationship work.

  She wanted love, of course.

  But she always wanted emotional stability and the knowledge that they would always be on the same page about what they desired most in life.

  She wanted sex. She wanted passion. Desire. Need. Want.

  She wanted to feel like the only woman who truly mattered in Ian’s life, just like he was practically the only man who mattered in hers.

  It was easy to believe that when he was this tender with her. The way he touched her, knowing exactly how to wake up her desire, was what a woman like Kathryn craved. As it so happened, Ian also loved this kind of lovemaking with his girlfriend best. Kissing her wet and warm throat. Stroking her clit and pinching her nipple. Making her moan and undulate against his erection as it dug more and more into the bottom of her back.

  He was determined to make her come before broaching any other kind of sex that night. But he was also hopeful that it would open her to more poignant conversations about what she really wanted for Christmas and for their mutual life to be like in 2017. For it was coming fast. Like Kathryn.

  What neither of them knew was how big of a change they would go through next year. By this time a year from now, Ian would no longer just be a Mathers, and Kathryn would no longer just be an Alison. There was a name greater than the both of them ready to take over the business world by storm. It would make this petty argument about some woman named Cassandra seem so unnecessary.

  Scene 3

  The Gaines-Warrens

  Very little was able to distract mega-heiress Eva Warren around this time. After a grueling process through grad school, she had finally accomplished her thesis and was (im)patiently awaiting the results that would deliver a degree to her soft, manicured hands.

  That wasn’t to say that nothing had the power to sway her from these ongoing thoughts. For one, she had a beautiful, voluptuous girlfriend to take up her precious spare time these days. That girlfriend was currently on the couch in the middle of Eva’s spacious studio apartment downtown, wearing a big, blue fluffy sweater that accentuated certain curves that were sure to distract Eva every time she walked by. Those tight pants weren’t helping, either. Here she had thought things would get better in the distraction department once the weather turned cold and Nadia went from wearing skirts 24/7 to the occasional pair of jeans. Nope. Instead of seeing the white of Nadia’s thighs and instantly wanting to die from sexual frustration, she was now tortured with slender legs wrapped tightly in dark denim that made Eva curse the Levi gods.

  That particular afternoon, Nadia was curled up on the leather couch with a paperback in her hands. A glass of red wine was half-consumed on the coffee table and half a candy bar on the arm of the couch. Nadia often read as a form of entertainment, so that wasn’t out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the look of absolute decadence on that freckled face. Red hair more vibrant than the gray day outside spilled over the side of the couch, giggles peppering the air whenever Nadia turned a page. Whatever she was reading, it was certainly amusing.

  And it was driving Eva wild, because she was supposed to be doing important shit to get ready for her upcoming graduation. Meanwhile, this vixen over here was going to be the death of her.

  “Okay. You win.” Eva sat on the edge of the couch and flung her arm over the back. She hovered over her girlfriend, who quickly covered her paperback with two flat hands. “You’ve got my attention. What do you want? Some fingering? My tongue in your pussy? Want me to lie down and let you ride my face? Can we try all three at once? I think it’s possible.” It was, but Eva was not going to be the one to achieve it that day.

  Nadia pressed the open book against her chest and kept the title covered. “I didn’t realize I had put out the Evangeline-bat-signal.”

  “You had. Now you have to deal with me.”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  Eva furrowed her brows. “What? Come on. What could possibly be more interesting than me? Definitely not a book.” She snorted. “Can a book make you come? Wait. Don’t answer that.” Eva definitely knew all about books and their abilities to turn a girl on. She may or may not have spent one summer devouring lesbian erotica as written by a real woman. (Something she didn’t think would be so hard
to find…)

  “I’ll have plenty of time for you later.” Nadia drummed her fingers against the back of her book. “You go along and do whatever you need to do. I can wait until you have plenty of time to waste on me.”

  “I didn’t realize it was wasting time on you.” Another huff claimed Eva’s chest. “What the hell are you reading, anyway?”

  “Some non-fiction about archaeology. Fascinating stuff about Middle Eastern dig sites.”

  Bull. Shit.

  Eva snatched the book from her girlfriend’s hands. Nadia leaped up, arms waving in a vain attempt to get the book back.

  Like that was going to happen.

  “Entwined With You by Sylvia Day.” Eva scrunched her nose. “What the fuck is this?”

  “Give it back!”

  Eva had a great advantage over her girlfriend – namely that she was well over six feet tall and Nadia was south of the national average. All Eva had to do was stand up and hold the book high above her head to keep Nadia from taking it back again. They must’ve looked the sight while they fought over who got to read the book and who had to deal with the repercussions.

  It was mostly Eva who had to deal with any and all repercussions… because what she read on the back of the book and on the page that it was opened to? So. Nasty.

  “Is this some straight woman’s fantasy porno?” Eva almost dropped the sullied book right on top of Nadia’s head. Except then her girlfriend might get it back, and then what? The end of their lesbian relationship? “Oh my God, what the fuck are you reading?”

  Nadia gave up. She sank back down onto the couch with a sigh of defeat. “I like reading those books sometimes, okay?” Sure, now she was going to act totally unaffected. “It’s not a big deal. They’re funny. Very amusing.” Ahem.