Snowed In: A Billionaire Winter Novella

by Linnea May

  I committed credit card fraud, more than once. I never took money from private individuals, but corporations. Bit by bit. The only difference between me and the average thief—next to my method—was that, after gaining access to funds and stealing their money, I didn’t piss it all away, but instead was smart enough to invest it in a more lucrative way. The Mandarin Oriental was one of those investments. I haven’t had to revert back to my old illegal ways for years, but rather have become a more or less proper business man.

  “Stock market,” I tell her, because I know she won’t ask any questions about that, no one ever does. “I invest money and multiply it.”

  She huffs. “Good for you.”

  I furl my eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, no, nothing,” she hurries to say, waving her hand in defense. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging or anything. I mean, I work in advertising, I know what it’s like for people to judge you because of your job.”

  “You get judged?” I wonder. “For what?”

  She clears her throat and lets out a helpless giggle.

  “Oh, you know, ads. They annoy people, and then there’s people who say we’re manipulating people into buying stuff they don’t need,” she says. “Seriously, you’ve never thought or heard that before?”

  I shrug. “I don’t care much about the opinion of other people. It’s usually the least successful people who judge those who work hard at making something for themselves. Why would I care what they think?”

  She ponders my words for a few moments, tilting her head to the side as she says, “That’s a good point, actually.”

  I chuckle. “You sound surprised. Didn’t expect a man like me to come up with something half way clever to say?”

  There it is. She blushes.

  “Um, no, why would I… that’s just…,” she stumbles over her words, causing me to laugh.

  “It’s okay, I’m just teasing you,” I let her know. “Sometimes there’s nothing more endearing to me than a blushing woman.”

  She looks at me, tightening the towel around her luscious body again, squeezing those enticing breasts right in front of my eyes.

  My cock is twitching beneath my own towel, starting to harden as I fantasize about touching her body, running my hands down her sexy curves and kneading those lush breasts.

  Fuck, I have to have her.

  “Let me ask you something, Ava.”

  She gulps as she stares at me expectantly, almost looking as if she’s scared of whatever I might be about to say. “Yes?”

  “Are you done with massages for the day?” I ask.

  She purses her lips, cocking her head to the side as she tries to understand where I’m going with this. “What do you mean?”

  “Would you like another massage?”

  “Um…,”

  “By me,” I add, enjoying the view of her breaking apart beneath my gaze.

  CHAPTER 4

  Ava

  What did he just ask me? Did this insanely gorgeous man just offer to give me a massage? He must be kidding.

  Is he flirting with me?

  I don't know what to make of this. It would be ridiculous to think that someone like him could actually be interested in me.

  “E-e-excuse me?” I stutter like an idiot.

  He’s still smiling, but narrows his eyes, now looking at me with a somewhat dangerous appeal.

  “Would like to get a massage—by me?” he repeats his offer. “I’ve been told I’m quite good at them.”

  I continue to stare at him, unable to take his offer seriously. “Is this a joke?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Why not? I enjoy giving them, too,” he says. “You can leave your towel on, and I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  “Here?” I ask. “Now?”

  He shrugs. “Sure. Or do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

  I shake my head. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then why don’t you let me sweeten this special day for you?” he asks. “Consider it an early Christmas present from a generous stranger.”

  I can’t believe myself, when I find that I'm nodding and agreeing to his surreal offer. This is so awkward. We just met, he’s a complete stranger, and he’s about to touch my imperfect body.

  But he’s so damn sexy, too. My heart is racing at the thought of his strong hands on my body. He must be strong, judging by the prominent muscles that adorn his upper body. This man must work out a lot, he looks like a perfectly defined bronze sculpture. The sweat that’s dripping off his muscular chest only enhances his seductive appearance.

  My heart is about to jump out of my chest when he gets up, his muscles flexing before my eyes as he comes closer, smiling at me as if I were the irresistible person in this room.

  “Lie down, on your belly,” he says, his voice surprisingly commanding. It sends hot shivers through my body, including my core.

  I get up from my seat and hesitate.

  “Could you…,”

  “Yes, of course,” he says and turns around to avert his eyes from me. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  I pause for a moment, before I awkwardly climb on the bench, still holding the towel wrapped around my body and making sure I’m not exposing anything delicate before I tell him that I’m ready.

  “Okay,” he says, approaching the bench. Even in this climate, I can feel the heat of his body next to me. “I may have to move the towel a little, so I can massage your back.”

  “Sure,” I breathe, closing my eyes.

  I try not to jump when I feel his strong hands on my body for the first time, as he removes the towel so that it only covers my ass, exposing the side of my boobs, because they are impossible to hide when I’m lying down on my belly.

  “This is the area that often gets overlooked in massages,” he says. “So, I’ll start there.”

  He starts massaging the region just above my hips, starting at the side and then slowly moving over to the back. I can feel my cheeks burn with the heat of embarrassment, as I am all too aware of all the extra baby fat that's been sitting around the middle of my body since puberty.

  I have been told that my shape was sexy by quite a few men in my life, but I have also been ridiculed for my stature enough to outweigh all the compliments. It saddens me, but I feel like there is very little I can do about it.

  Now that this surreally handsome man's hands are on me, I cannot help but feel vulnerable and ashamed about the body he is touching.

  He uses his thumbs to push against a certain spot on my lower back, just above my ass. The pressure feels so good that I let out a little moan.

  I hear him chuckle behind me, close to my ear.

  “Feels good, huh?” he whispers.

  I nod in silence.

  Oh my God, how embarrassing!

  Now, his massage wanders lower, toward my thighs.

  “You are tense, Ava,” he notices as he lifts one of my legs up, bending my knee and gently pushing my foot toward my behind. “Why is that?”

  Because you are so fucking hot—and you are touching me in a way that you might think is innocent, but feels so very different.

  I blush at my honest thoughts and find myself unable to come up with anything clever to say. “I don’t know.”

  His massage continues down to my calves, but he doesn't spend nearly half as much time with them as he did with my thighs and my lower back. Soon, his hands wander back up and he places his thumbs on my spine just above my behind and gently pushes down on the same spot he did earlier. Again, I cannot suppress a little moan.

  “That feels so... good,” I murmur.

  “Glad to hear it,” he says and moves his hand further up my back toward my shoulder blades. He starts massaging my back and shoulders thoroughly before he moves along to my upper arms.

  His hands stroke along my shoulder blades on his way back, surpassing them and moving to my side. His massage was so relaxing it even made me fo
rget about my body insecurities or the fact that his god-like looks made my heart dance in silly moves.

  But his next move causes my eyes to go wide. His hands are placed at my sides respectively. However, he doesn't leave them there but moves them further to the front, now clearly touching my boobs at the side.

  My head is turned away from him, so he cannot see my surprised expression. I wait for him to remove his hands, but instead, he starts caressing along the bulge of my breasts. His touch is careful and soft, testing. He doesn't move them further, but his motions change. Instead of massaging me and giving release to my tense muscles, he is now fondling me like a shy lover.

  He doesn't go any further but keeps his hands in place for a few moments. I can feel his eyes on me. I could yank him away, yell at him, accuse him of being intrusive. But none of that comes to mind.

  It feels too good. I don't know how, but some part of him must know that I want this. That I wouldn't object.

  If anything, I want him to go further to get a better feel of the only body part of myself that I actually like. My boobs may be a little big, but they suit my frame perfectly and they are so fucking sensitive, even the slightest touch by the right man can cause me to become dizzy with lust.

  A man like him.

  I am confused. Flattered, intrigued, nervous, but overall highly confused.

  I can feel him lean over to get closer to my head.

  “Do you like that, too?” he whispers next to my ear. His seductive tone sends shivers through my core.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  As soon as I do, his hands gain a little confidence and move further, now almost reaching around to my front and fully grasping my boobs, as far as that is possible with me lying on my belly.

  I moan as he squeezes them. Holy shit, what is happening here?

  To my disappointment, he lets go of them right after that moan escaped my lips. His hands quickly withdraw to my back and change over to a proper massage again.

  My heart rate is nowhere near resting now, I know that for sure. What the hell was that? Did I just imagine it? Or was this insanely hot man actually hitting on me? That can't be it. He must be making fun of me...

  He stops massaging my back and lets his hands rest below my shoulder blades. For a moment, neither of us moves.

  “Look at me,” he says, again in his domineering tone.

  I understand this as a request to sit up, so I pick myself up, wrapping the towel around me as tight as I can, even though he is gentleman enough to avert his eyes for the moment.

  Once I’m all set, sitting on the bench next to him, our eyes meet.

  “You are stunning, Ava,” he whispers, caressing my cheek with the tip of his index finger. “However, the things I want to do to you would require a little bit more privacy.”

  I blush at his words, incapable of believing my ears. Did he really just say that?

  I lean into his teach, my eyes locked onto his, silently begging for a kiss.

  Thank God, he doesn’t embarrass me by not answering my plea. His lips meet mine with hungry force and before I know it, our tongues are intertwining, my chest heaving as the sexiest man I've ever seen claims me with a sensual kiss.

  He is kissing me! Derek Cartwright, the sexiest man alive, is kissing me!

  I cannot believe this is happening. I am so awestruck at first that I don't even kiss him back, but just let it happen. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer, so that I can feel his hard chest muscles pressing against me.

  He doesn't take my confusion as rejection but forces himself on me without waiting for an invitation. His tongue explores my mouth hungrily, claiming me like a starved animal.

  When I finally overcome my wonder at his sudden actions, I dare to kiss him back, moving my arm up in an attempt to place it around his neck, a passionate move that is usually welcomed during passionate kisses.

  Not with him, though. He instantly grabs my wrist and pushes it down, forcing my arm behind my back while pulling my head back by my hair with his other hand.

  Our kiss stops and he looks at me, quietly searching for confirmation while I just stare up at him helplessly. I am panting and my accelerated heart rate is no longer a secret, even without the strap around my arm that enables a telltale number on a display.

  He leans forward and seductively bites my lower lip before wandering lower, his tongue wandering along the side of my neck while I moan and quiver beneath him.

  “You're so fucking delicious,” he whispers as he bites into my skin.

  I gasp for air, my eyes widened in disbelief.

  CHAPTER 5

  Ava

  “I bet you're here for this,” Ann assumes, holding up the coffeepot in front of my face.

  I nod and hold up my mug so she can fill it with coffee. My head is still fuzzy from yesterday. Was it a dream? Did I really make out with a handsome millionaire at a luxury spa? Did he really give me that sensual massage? Did he really ask for my number so he can invite me for a little more some time later?

  I blush as I relive yesterday’s adventure. We had a passionate make-out session in the sauna, but at some point, my responsible head got the better of me and I chickened out. I know he was looking for more, a lot more, but a part of me didn’t want to be that girl. The kind of girl who goes all the way with a guy she barely knows.

  I did leave him with my phone number, though.

  Ann chuckles next. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, yes,” I hurry to reply.

  “How was your massage at the Mandarin Oriental? You went yesterday, didn’t you?” Ann asks.

  I blush again and can’t help but smile. “It was good. Very good.”

  I pause, wondering if I should tell her any more about the afternoon. After all, she is my coworker and some things should stay private between us, even though we get along like friends.

  But Ann wouldn’t be Ann if she didn’t sense that there was something up.

  “What happened?” she asks. “And don’t tell me there’s nothing to tell. I can see it written all over your face, girl!”

  I cast her a coy smile.

  “I… kind of met someone there,” I begin.

  “A guy? At the spa?” Ann asks, her eye widening with curiosity.

  I nod. “Yes, in the sauna actually.”

  “Hot!” Ann comments. “Like, literally hot!”

  “His name is Derek Cartwright,” I continue. “And he’s so—”

  “Oh my God!” she interrupts me, pressing her hand against her mouth to stop herself from yelling. “Don’t tell me you flirted with Derek Cartwright?”

  I look at her, suddenly regretting that I said anything.

  “That’s who he said he was… why?” I want to know.

  “The super sexy billionaire?” she asks. “How can you not know who he is? We even worked for one of his companies this year! He’s out of this world handsome!”

  “I know,” I agree. “That’s why I was so confused he showed any interest in me. But he… certainly did.”

  “You're gorgeous,” she says. “You shouldn't belittle yourself all the time, just because of the stupid comments from those silly hens.”

  I hesitate for a moment. Ann is such a nice person and has always been super friendly to me.

  “Yeah, but still-”

  “Tell me everything!” Ann insists, interrupting my self doubts.

  Of course, I don’t tell her everything and prefer to stick to the less naughty parts of our encounter. I tell her about some of the things he said, before and after the massage, but I never mention the massage, the kiss or the making out.

  I certainly didn't tell her about the massive boner that was beneath his towel when he got up to grab a pen and paper from his stuff outside so I could write down my number. I almost lost all of my self control at that moment, and I’m kind of proud of myself that I didn’t.

  “He must like you!” Ann concludes, grinning from ear to ear.

  I clear my throat
and lift the coffee mug up to my face as if I was trying to hide behind it.

  “I don't know about that,” I whisper.

  Ann winks at me. “Well, there's still plenty of time to find out, right? You’re seeing him again, right?”

  “If he calls,” I say.

  She pats me on the shoulder as she walks out of the kitchen. “I’m sure he will—you’re a bombshell and it’s about time you realize that. Damn, you're one lucky girl!”

  She winks at me and leaves.

  I take another sip from my coffee. It has been a while since I have dated anyone or even had a simple fling. The last guy I had a little fun with a few months ago, was such a disappointment that I had stopped looking ever since. He couldn't keep up with me, he had no idea what he was doing and even during the few times we had sex, my heart never went into overdrive the way it did in Derek's presence.

  He was a nice guy and I felt bad for ghosting him after just a few dates, but I don't like nice guys, at least not in the bedroom. Be nice and sweet with me when we are out and about, but leave the nice guy outside when we step into the bedroom.

  Something tells me that Derek is anything but nice once he gets ready to play. Oh, what I wouldn't give to find out!

  CHAPTER 6

  Derek

  There are some men who think you should wait three days before calling a woman after she gave you her number. I’ve never been a fan of that rule and don’t see why you should make a pretty girl wait.

  I let less than 24 hours pass before I call Ava and ask her out on a proper date.

  “Advent Sundays seem to be our lucky day,” I tell her when we discuss a possible date. “So let’s say this upcoming Sunday?”

  “Okay,” she agrees from the other side of the line. Even through the phone her coy and naturally submissive nature is palpable.

  We’re going to have so much fun together.

  “Where do you want to meet?” she asks shyly.

  “Same place,” I say.

  “The sauna?” she gasps in disbelief, causing me to chuckle.

  “We can do that, too, sweetheart,” I tell her. “But I was thinking more along the lines of the same hotel, but at the restaurant this time. They have a great wine selection and exquisite menu.”