The Perfect Gift: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

by Mia Ford

  In the darkness, she leaned in towards Leon. She could smell his scent, his musky masculine smell that filled her lungs, reminding her how happy they were together in those weeks before Archer. How she hadn’t care how often Leon spoke to her, because she was the only person who existed in his world.

  To her surprise, he leaned in too. Their lips met, she could taste him on her tongue, she extended an arm, wrapping it around his bent neck. She was pressing herself to him, running her hand down his muscular shirted arm. But then Leon pushed her away.

  “Not any more, Ivy. We’re not sharing. You belong to my brother now and I don’t want to do this any longer.” He said, and this time she couldn’t stop him. He had flung open the screen door and disappeared into the house. Ivy contemplated following him in, chasing him to his room, confronting him and demanding further explanations. But she knew him well, even though Leon revealed so little about himself, she knew a lot about him. He was done now. He had made his decision, just like she had. He wasn’t going to talk about it anymore. There was nothing to discuss.

  Ivy gulped and licked her lips. She could still taste him in her mouth. That was to be her last kiss with Leon. It was only going to be Archer and herself now, and she tried to smile. He made her happy. He made her laugh. He took out time to be with her. He had pursued her, and he deserved his prize.

  Leon had done nothing. She was the one who had coveted him from the start. She seduced him to sleep with her. She made him agree to allow her to stay in the house after their first quarrel. Besides his name, and some bits about his past, Leon revealed very little. The fact that he didn’t want to share her with Archer, could mean anything. That nagging feeling, that maybe Leon had actual feelings for her, were being shoved into the back of her mind. Even if he did, he wasn’t ever going to say the actual words.

  Ivy had her whole life ahead of her, she wasn’t so sure if she would be able to spend it with a man who spoke so little. With someone who denied her the privilege of actually expressing his feelings. She wondered if she might feel trapped, just like her mother had. She remembered her mother’s words of caution. To run away from living in isolation if she could. She was certain that Archer would give her a better, more fulfilling life. The kind of life that her mother had never been able to lead. What sort of life would Leon give her?

  Ivy shuddered as she thought about it. She had never been to Minnesota. Archer had promised to leave the next day, so that they wouldn’t have to remain in the hostile environment of Leon’s ranch for much longer. She felt lucky and privileged that Archer was willing to do so much for her, sacrifice his own relationship with his brother for her sake.

  There was nothing left for her here, she thought as she looked around the estate in its darkness. Leon had his chance, nearly seven weeks to express his feelings. To make her believe that he had more to offer her than employment and satisfying sex.

  And now it as time for her to move on, with a man who really wanted to be with her.

  Chapter 14

  That familiar feeling of packing her bags and readying them next to her bedroom door, returned to her in a flood. This was the third time she had done this, preparing herself to leave Old Marigold Ranch. And this time, it appeared as though it was time to leave for good. A feeling of calmness had descended upon her. She was resolved to not cry, or make a scene.

  Archer knocked on her door at eight and she opened it, his smiling dimpled cheeks greeted her. And Ivy was filled with a conviction that she had made the right decision.

  “Where is he?” She asked him, her heart thumping.

  “Who? Leon? I’m not sure, but I told him last night that we’re leaving today. So, he knows.” Archer said, smirking at her before picking up her bags off the floor.

  “How are we going to get into town? Are we taking a train?” She asked him, mighty anxious now. She had never been to Minnesota and she was beginning to grow excited. Archer smiled at her, as he turned to carry her bags over to the front entrance.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of everything. You just get ready.” He said, and she nodded her head.

  Ivy had been ready since six, but now she gave herself the once over in the full-length mirror. She would miss this room, she thought, as she pinned in a few more black bobby pins into her hair, holding her beautiful golden ringlets in place, neatly away from her face.

  But Archer was rich too. They were both wealthy, and she bit down on her lip wondering what kind of house he lived in.

  She was in a yellow summer dress, that matched her hair perfectly. One she knew Leon loved her in, because it accentuated her curved. Not that she wanted to stir anything in Leon any more, that would be wrong of her to do, she knew that. She was the one leaving him.

  Ivy smoothened the pleats on the front of her dress, and a noise at her door made her turn. She hadn’t shut the bedroom door and now Leon was leaning against the frame. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was looking at her with his usual expressionless face.

  “So, you’re ready to go?” He asked her, and she smiled at him. Nothing could change the fact that she was leaving, so it would be better if she left on good terms, she thought.

  “I am. Archer has everything arranged.” She said, walking up to him.

  “I’m sure he does.” Leon said, straightening up. She studied his sharp chiseled jaw, that sparkle in his eyes that was lost somehow. His broad chest that made his plaid shirt taut with tightness, how narrow his waist was, how strong his legs were. Ivy gulped, this was going to be more painful than she thought. Leon was like a drug to her. She had fallen for him when she least expected to and he had taught her everything. He helped her explore her own sexuality and she hadn’t thanked him for it.

  Ivy fell on him, wrapping her arms around his waist. For a few moments, it seemed that Leon wasn’t sure how to react. His arms were spread open in surprise, till slowly he started to relax. She felt a hand on the small of her back. He was holding her.

  “Thank you for everything Leon. I promise I won’t disappoint you. I’ll keep studying.” She said, drawing her face away from his chest, where she had buried it earlier. Leon was looking down at her, and something had changed. His expression had grown softer, and his eyes were shining bright.

  “Ivy…” He began to say, and she bit down on her lip. She had no idea what he was about to say, but this was the first time she had seen that look on his face. This was the first time there was an actual imminent danger to their relationship. Was he finally going to say something?

  “Stay with me.” He said it in the most neutral, but heavy voice. There was a hint of a strain there, but she had heard it. And Ivy was suddenly struck with a feeling of utter happiness, like she had never felt before.

  She flung herself on him again, pressing her face to his chest, tightening the grip of her arms around his waist.

  “That’s all I wanted to hear from you, Leon.” She cried into his chest, as she felt his hand on her head. He was stroking her hair.

  “That’s all I wanted to say to you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” She heard him say, and she couldn’t control herself any more. Ivy felt like she was going to burst.

  She pulled herself away from him, and Leon dropped his hands to her face, caressing her gently. Holding her in place.

  “I love you Ivy. I always have. That was why I didn’t want to share you with Archer, with anyone.” He was saying, but Ivy could barely hear him. She was laughing from her burgeoning happiness. Nothing that Leon could say could make her feel better. This was what she was waiting for. There was no choice now. She would never leave him; she couldn’t live without him. Everything she did, had done…she had done to please him.

  “I love you Leon. I don’t want you to share me with anyone. I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here with you.” She was crying by now, but they were tears of joy.

  “As my wife. By my side.” He said, looking deep into her eyes. He wasn’t the kind of man who was going to get
down on his knees, and Ivy didn’t care.

  “As your wife.” She said and they were kissing, blissfully unaware of the fact that Archer had appeared at the bedroom door. He had turned away, leaving Ivy’s bags at the front door. He knew when he had lost, and this time, he had lost to his brother Leon. And he was man enough to admit defeat.

  Sneak Peak: Claimed

  Blurb

  Prince Milos Dobrimil, the royal playboy lives a life of excess and luxury, constantly fulfilling his sexual desires during his escapades into the city. When his father falls ill, eventually dying, Milos is left with his last wishes, to see Milos married and ruling the Kingdom with wealth and pride.

  This request, however, comes as an ultimatum, and Milos is left scrambling to try to save the royal line and still keep his freedom. Thinking he has the ultimate solution, he makes an indecent proposal to a sassy and free-spirited stripper who just may turn his world inside out.

  With love, betrayal, sex, and power, this book will take you for a ride through a modern-day adult fairy tale. As you explore the deeply hidden desires of a girl from the slums and the inner struggle of a boy from another world, the truth will reveal itself in ways that will tantalize your fantastical mind while pulling at your lustful heart.

  Chapter 1: Adriana

  The smell of stale cigarettes and cheap perfume have been permanently stained into my nostrils from working at the club for so long. The client section of the Caspian Cabaret was built for royalty with its large stone archway, red velvet carpets, and stainless-steel counters, but all I ever saw was the shoddy backroom and the glaring red lights pointed at the stage. It was almost time for me to head out there, and I felt jittery. I always did before my first dance of the night.

  I looked down at the gold bodysuit I was struggling to get my ass into. Now I understood why Reg, the owner, always gave me nasty looks when I shoved anything fried into my mouth. I swear, if he had it his way, his girls would be pumped with silicone and live off two carrot sticks and a glass of water a day.

  Every time I start thinking about how much I hate my job, I remind myself that it’s better than the alternative. Being stranded in Prague with no money and no one to call was terrifying to me, regardless of how many days I’d spent backpacking across Europe. Having money in your pocket was always reassuring.

  I had spent years saving up for this trip, hiding my savings from my alcoholic mother and counting down the days until I could jet off, living the free life as a nomad with a savings account. I didn’t realize how meager of a savings account I had until I ended up stranded in Prague with just my backpack and a smile. Smiles don’t go very far under the unforgiving city lights.

  Shaken from my thoughts, I watched as Sveta bounced into the room, happy and carefree as ever. This girl was top notch, and she did not give a damn about anyone. Her tight curves, huge tits, and petite stature made her the focus of almost every man in the audience. She played that charm to her advantage, but on the inside, she was really a stone-cold bitch, which of course was why I loved her.

  Sveta leaned down and kissed my cheek. Her strong perfume wafted through the room. She always made me feel better, especially knowing that this was not the job I ever wanted to have. She plopped two shot glasses down and a bottle of vodka, smiling as she filled up our nightly dose of liquid courage. I only ever took two shots, but it was just the right amount to get me to drop the nerves and move my hips.

  “So, who do you think will pay our bills tonight?” she asked.

  We had this conversation every night.

  “Personally, I’m hoping those Russian guys come back,” I replied. I pulled up the straps on my body suit, adjusted my tits so they would pop, and pulled the g-string up, so I got the jiggle effect. “They liked my giant ass.”

  “I hope those rich Chinese businessmen come back,” Sveta replied, before taking a shot and sucking on a lemon. “I didn’t understand a word they said, and they were obsessed with my tits. They paid me just to jiggle them in their faces.”

  “Nice, or those two Irish boys vacationing on daddy’s credit card,” I replied, laughing. “They liked my English ass. They kept asking me to say things because they thought my accent was fucking hilarious.”

  “Whatever,” Sveta said, pouring another shot. “You’re still waiting for Prince Charming to walk through the door and whisk you away from this place.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said, laughing. “Like Reg would ever let that happen.”

  “Asshole,” we said in unison, clinking our shot glasses and tipping them back.

  Prince Charming. That’s funny. I hadn’t thought about a Prince anything since I was a little girl, back when I’d still been oblivious to the cold hard truth about men. I had given up on the fairy tale dreams a long time ago. Mostly as a result of my mother getting wasted and banging a new guy every night, and the string of creepy “uncles,” as my mother called them, hugging me a bit too long and looking at me with their nauseating stare and greasy palms. Now, I was just determined to make enough money to continue on my way. Sure, I could go back to Liverpool, but there was nothing there for me anymore. I was pretty sure my mother didn’t even realize I was gone.

  Even when I’d been standing completely broke and scared in Prague, auditioning for amateur night at the Caspian seemed like a better idea than calling my mother. So, three shots and two drinks later, my tired ass was shaking it for a bunch of dirty old men, whistling from the audience. Surprising to me, I actually won the contest. Not surprising, the owner, Reg Evers, refused to pay me. He was a bastard of a man with huge muscles and a bald head. He had a knack for covering up his deadly persona with bad jokes and cutesy stripper names. But there I’d been, facing off with him.

  He offered me a job and an apartment. I stood there under the giant stone entryway and considered my two options. I could stay here, dance a little, make some cash, and then be on my way. Or I could walk out into the cold streets of Prague and find myself homeless with a little less pride than when I started. So, I took the job. As I shook Reg’s hand and stared into his cold eyes, I could feel part of me float away into the red lights of the stage.

  In the end, I guess it wasn’t really that bad. I had a crappy apartment, just like in Liverpool, except the rent wasn’t quite as expensive. That might be because I share it with six other girls, but what’s the difference? It was like staying in one of the hostels I visited on my travels, except with a lot more nudity and way more crazy women. On my one night off a week, Sveta and I would hit the city, dancing with each other, shooing off the guys, and laughing until dawn. When you work at a job where you are constantly ogled by dudes, the last thing you wanted to do was pick one up on your night off so they could grope you for free.

  The money I earned was actually pretty decent, despite the amount taken out for rent, and whenever Reg wanted to be an asshole. I probably could have left, but I was afraid I’d find myself just one country over, doing the same thing again, but probably not in an elite place like the Caspian.

  “Okay I’m up,” Sveta said as her music came up.

  “Titties out and only accepting twenties,” we said, as if it was our motto.

  I smiled as I watched Sveta bounce on stage, wearing her g-string, tiny tutu, and a push-up bra.

  Sometimes I wondered why we even wore anything at all out on the stage. The men didn’t let us keep it on for more than a minute after the song started. But, once I got my top off and I heard the roar of the crowd, my nerves would calm. I would pretend, for just five minutes at a time, that I was the most desired woman in the world. Well, at least in Prague. The longer I worked here, the more I realized something strange about myself. Deep down, I liked the rush of the lights, the smell of hot lust from the men waving money at me, and the feeling that I could seduce just about anyone. It was also incredible, feeling the control.

  I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, even though Reg highly frowned upon turning a client down for a lap dance. But, in reality,
if all I wanted to do was dance on stage, I could do it. If I wanted to give a hundred lap dances a night, I could do it. Even if I wanted to let some perv rub his dick all over me, although I wouldn’t, I could do it if I chose. It was all about my control, something I didn’t have growing up in the sleaze house in the junky, run-down part of Liverpool. What am I saying? Every part of Liverpool was junky and run down.

  I took a deep breath and strapped on my six-inch heels, knowing when Sveta was done, I would be called up on stage. Reg liked my long legs and had this weird thing with the eighties. He always dressed me in leotards, cut abnormally high on the hips and incredibly low in the front. He also made me wear huge, flashing translucent heels. But I didn’t care, the men seemed to like it, and it’s not like it stayed on very long. Good thing, too, because this g-string hurt.

  I looked in the mirror and grabbed the eyeliner, going for the deep, sultry look tonight. Dark, thick eyeliner always made my bright blue eyes pop, and out here, they loved the blonde look. So I made sure that I teased my hair extra high with big, bouncing curls. I could see the men’s eyes moving up and down my body when I bounced across the stage. My huge tits, my curls, and their eyes danced in unison. During lap dances, when I spoke in my British accent, the men went absolutely fucking nuts. I didn’t know how many times I got three seconds into a lap dance and watched as the guy busted a nut in his pants. That was fine with me because that meant I did a little work for a whole lot of money, and they would most likely come back the next night and do it all over again.

  I stood up and stretched my ankles, getting ready to twist and turn on the stage. No one wanted a sprained ankle, and no one liked a stripper falling to her doom from the red velvet stage. I climbed the steps to the curtain that opened up out onto the walkway, bending my neck and stretching my legs. Reg poked his head around the outside door and looked at me.