Into Santa: A Secret Billionaire Christmas Romance

by Barnes, Becca

  “You have no idea.”

  We walked into the cabin, and it was magical inside. A twenty foot Christmas tree, decorated in white stars and twinkle lights, glowed in the atrium. It was surrounded by gifts, all wrapped in silver.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  The dogs ran a couple laps around the room, then settled next to a giant fireplace that Nate turned on with the switch of a button.

  Then I noticed what was in front of the fireplace, and I burst out laughing.

  “How…?” I asked as I pointed at a Monopoly board set up in the middle of the plush rug. The game pieces were laid out exactly as we had left them at my house.

  Nate grinned.

  “I have a head for details and a staff that doesn’t ask a lot of questions when I ask them to do something very specific.”

  “Does this happen often?” I asked. “Bringing women up to your mountain lair?”

  I said it nonchalantly, but I was genuinely curious. It was one aspect of dating a hot billionaire philanthropist that I hadn’t spent much time mulling over. For good reason. Surely, he had a string of women ready to throw themselves at him at a moment’s notice.

  “Actually,” he said, “you’re the first. This is kind of my haven. Not just the cabin but my hometown. I’m...protective of my life here. And the people here.”

  “Oh.” I had no idea what to say to that. I wasn’t sure there was anything to say.

  “How I feel about you...this is new.”

  “It’s the same for me.” I could feel a blush growing that had nothing to do with our proximity to the roaring fire.

  “So.” Nate took my coat from me and tossed it over the back of a chair. “You ready to finish the game?”

  I leaned over and unfastened the top couple buttons of his untucked flannel shirt, worn thin and soft. I let my finger trail in its wake.

  “With the new rules in place?” I asked.

  “Any rules you want.”

  “Hope you’re ready to lose your shirt,” I murmured. “Literally.”

  Sixteen

  It turns out that when someone is highly motivated to lose, Monopoly can be a surprisingly fast game.

  And when both players are highly motivated to lose, all it takes is a couple rolls of the dice, an arched eyebrow, and landing on Boardwalk.

  “Hmm.” I counted out the spaces with the miniature top hat and spun it around in lazy circles.

  “You don’t have enough money to buy anything,” pointed out Nate.

  “Yeah, but I still have a skirt on. And my bra.” More than the boxer briefs he still wore.

  “A really thin bra.” He smiled.

  “A bra nonetheless.”

  “How much for the bra?” he asked.

  “The lot.” I leaned over the board and traced my finger around his stacks of money and properties. The ladies were in fine form straining against my gossamer thin, red mesh bralette, and we both knew it.

  He bit his lower lip, leaning back on his forearms.

  “Sold. You’re quite the mogul.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  I moved my hand to unhook my bra, but he reached over to stop me.

  “Nuh unh. I bought that fair and square.” He brushed his palm down the curve of my chest as he reached around to unfasten the back. “And I intend to collect the rent.”

  My breasts ached with wanting as he cupped them in his warm hands, drawing lazy circles around each nipple with his thumbs until I let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a squeak.

  “Nate,” I whispered, inching towards him.

  He shifted my torso into his lap. I circled my legs around him, nothing between the softest parts of me and the hardest part of him but a fine layer of fabric.

  A layer of fabric that I needed gone. Now.

  Nate picked up on my impatience as I pressed into him. He boosted me up, my body still wrapped around his, as if I weighed nothing and carried me over to the couch. I struggled with the waistband of his boxers as he shook his head gently.

  “Nuh unh,” he said again. “I said you’re getting the lot.”

  He lifted me off his lap and dipped his head, tracing kisses down my chest, down my abdomen, down to…

  “Ohhhh.” I moaned as he nibbled and licked, using his tongue in ways that I never knew existed before that moment.

  “God, this is better than I even imagined,” said Nate through gritted teeth. He gripped my hips to keep me from losing control then and there.

  “Nate.” His name tasted like sugar on my lips.

  “Shhh.” The tickle of his breath, warm against my wetness, nearly sent me sailing over the edge.

  I raked my nails through his hair, desperate to grasp something solid, to keep me tethered to reality even as the air around me took on a gauzy, dreamlike feel. I twisted and bucked, but he kept his grasp firm, his movements sure. And then I was swathed in a cocoon of pure pleasure as I climaxed.

  It was a strange sensation—fully satisfied and yet immediately hungry for more.

  I barely let him come up for air before I pushed him backward and straddled him, pinning him to the couch, running my fingertips across every inch of his skin I could reach. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

  “I want you,” I murmured. “All of you.”

  Nate James. Nathaniel Crainfield. I wanted every nuanced bit of him.

  And I wanted him in me.

  I wasn’t sure how we managed to make it to the nearest bedroom. I had no clue how either of us worked up the patience to strip off our scant remaining garments without ripping them to shreds. And I had no idea words that filthy even existed in my vocabulary as I waited for him to sheath himself.

  When we joined, it was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I’d never felt more filled even as I begged him to drive deeper. Our bodies moved together in a way that felt like a dance with steps as ancient as time yet also brand new and wholly unexpected.

  A thousand sensations built and built within my core then melted into one pointed pulse of desire. I let out a weak, keening cry as I came, everything within me utterly spent. Nate clenched the headboard, staring into my wide eyes in wonder as he neared the brink. Then he took my mouth in his and kissed me deeply before he let out a shaky rasp and shuddered into climax.

  He collapsed next to me and put his hand over mine.

  “Wow,” I said quietly.

  “Wow.”

  “So I’m not crazy?” I said after a few seconds. “That was—not normal.”

  “Yeah, that was new. That was--I’m sorry. My brain is fuzzy. I think you shorted it out.”

  “I think you shorted my everything out.”

  “Jen?” He turned his head toward me.

  “Yes?” I flipped on my side to face him.

  “The money, the houses, the cars--they don’t matter. This is everything to me. You are everything. I want you to know that. I love you.”

  “You’re everything, too.” I curled into the crook of his arm and rested my head on his chest. “I love you.”

  Seventeen

  “That’s the third one this morning.” I pointed at the clump of mistletoe hanging from the doorway above my head as I wandered into the kitchen. I was wrapped in a fluffy, Egyptian cotton robe that had been waiting for me outside the shower.

  “I didn’t want to take any chances.” He shrugged and sipped his coffee.

  “Completely unnecessary.” I plopped down on his lap and proved my point. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Mmm. I could get used to that.”

  “And I could get used to pre-heated bathrobes.”

  “Please do.”

  I could feel a glow spread across my cheeks, and I knew the robe wouldn’t stay on for long.

  * * *

  After a morning that alternated between lazing about and rigorous, vigorous activity, we headed over to his Nana’s.

  I was relieved to see that her house was totally normal. She still lived in the same snug
three-bedroom home where she’d raised her two grandkids. Nate had obviously handled all the upkeep on it--new windows and appliances, a high-tech solar roof and gorgeous landscaping. But it was cozy and reminded me of my own grandma’s place.

  “Get in here, you.” She pulled Nate in and enveloped him in a tight hug.

  “Hey, Nana. I want you to meet—”

  “Pish,” she said and gathered me into an embrace as well. “Don’t act like you haven’t been yammering on about her for weeks. It’s nice to meet you, Jen.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. You have a lovely home.”

  “Oh, Lordy. Don’t set him off. He’ll think of some fancy new gadget to attach to the place.”

  Nate laughed and shifted one of the presents he was holding behind his back with a guilty look on his face.

  We ate and ate and ate. Then we opened gifts, and Nate told his Nana about the idea for the after-school coding program.

  “You’re a teacher?” she asked me.

  “No,” I admitted. “All my education is in computer science. I just like kids and want to help them learn.”

  “Honey, that’s called a teacher.”

  “Oh. Okay, I guess I’m a teacher.”

  “I taught fifth grade for thirty-five years. Those little hooligans were responsible for sixty percent of the grey in my hair. And I wouldn’t trade a single strand.”

  “And the other forty?” I asked.

  “About thirty-nine-point-nine percent was Tori, and this one here was Nate.”

  “He was a good kid?”

  “The best. Tori was, too. She just has a wild streak a mile-wide like her mama did. And her Nana, for that matter.” She cast an affectionate glance in Nate and Tori’s direction. “Lord knows, Nate’s not perfect, but he’s loyal. He fights for what’s right. He admits when he’s messed up. And he’ll shuffle heaven and earth around for the people he loves.”

  “So I’ve learned,” I murmured, following her gaze. “He takes care of his elves.”

  * * *

  Tori and I spent the afternoon working a puzzle and grazing on the ridiculous amount of leftovers. The infamous caramel swirl fudge was everything promised and more.

  After we finished the puzzle, Tori proposed a game of Monopoly, and I exploded in a massive coughing fit. She shot Nate a shrewd look but pulled out a Scrabble board instead without another word.

  At the end of the evening, Nate and I left and drove around aimlessly to look at lights and talk and dream out loud.

  “Are you sad for Christmas to be over?” I asked, tracing circles in his outstretched palm.

  “Most years, I’m--I don’t know that ‘sad’ is the word. ‘Relieved’ isn’t quite right either. But most years, I’m definitely ready to decompress. And ready to not see another strand of tinsel for a full three-hundred and sixty-four days, give or take.”

  “And this year?”

  “This year, it depends on what we use the tinsel for.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around me, drawing me close, like a promise to never let go. “This year, I got the elf.”

  Epilogue

  A Few Christmases Later

  “No knocked-up elves.”

  “Oh, shut it, Todd.” I adjusted the bow over my huge bump. I swore, if I didn’t pop this little guy out before New Year’s, I was going to strangle a reindeer. “I’ve never missed a year. I’m not starting now.”

  “What am I supposed to tell the children and the parents who ask why we have an elf who’s about to burst?” he whined.

  I tried to reach around the bump to rub my aching back, but only got halfway there before more skilled hands than mine were there, massaging in just the right spot. Ahh.

  “Tell them the truth,” said Nate. “Tell them Mrs. Claus is expecting a baby any day now.”

  He leaned over my shoulder and added, “Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?”

  “I’m only working a two hour shift, honey. The doctor said the activity will be good for me. And we have five backup elves just in case.” Tori and Annie had both volunteered to fill in for me whenever I needed a break. Not to mention three senior girls from the after-school program who were headed to college in the fall on full scholarships and could use some extra spending cash.

  We also had two backup Santas and a helicopter with a newly-installed helipad on the mall’s roof. Just in case I went into labor in some sort of Yuletide apocalypse scenario.

  Turned out my hubby wasn’t exaggerating when he’d said that he had recruited a five-star general to develop our birth plan.

  I was full-term, but it still didn’t seem entirely real that our son would be here sooner rather than later.

  “Besides, it’s hardly ‘any day now.’ There’s still two more weeks before the due date, and most first babies are late anyway,” I said, hiding a wince behind a forced smile as the back pain flared back up.

  “Mrs. Crainfield,” said Todd, “I really think--”

  “Actually, it’s Mrs. James,” I said, although I answered to either one of those or my maiden name or any hyphenated combination of the three on a regular basis. I narrowed my eyes at his obnoxious weasel face. “And please tell me, Todd. What do you really think?”

  “I think”--he gulped—”you’ll be a lovely Santa’s little helper as always.”

  “Good answer.” Nate chuckled.

  It was a light day for shoppers this many weeks before Christmas. I was thankful we’d only had two kids come by so far, and no more were in line. I had to sit down and breathe through the back pain, which just kept coming back.

  Every few minutes or so.

  Getting stronger.

  Nate was staring at me as I forced myself to puff out a breath of air. We locked eyes, and I could tell he had had the same realization as me.

  “Go time!” He jumped up, knocking a bowl of candy canes to the floor. He whipped out three cell phones, two of which I’d never even seen before.

  “Where did you get—?”

  “Emergency backup,” he said as way of explanation, dialing his regular phone with one hand and texting on one of the new ones with the other.

  “I thought the helicopter was the emergency backup,” I grumbled.

  “Checking traffic along the route,” he said as he scrolled through the third phone, ignoring me. “And we are…good.”

  “So we won’t need the A-Team’s assistance after all?”

  “I’m going to have Rick follow us by air just in case.”

  “You...you’re kidding, right?”

  He gave me his do-I-look-like-I’m-kidding face that he usually reserved for board meetings and corporate mergers.

  “All righty then,” I said, knowing not to argue when he was in Nathaniel Crainfield mode.

  I started to waddle back to the break room to grab my coat when a hard contraction hit, and I bent over, grimacing in pain. Before I knew what was happening, Nate was there by my side, holding me up. He brushed back the strands of hair that had escaped my Mrs. Claus bun and tucked them behind my ear. He murmured the encouragements we’d practiced in Lamaze class as the contraction passed.

  Crap. That had really hurt.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered. I knew it wasn’t rational, but the pain had made me a little panicky.

  “Hey. Look at me.” He lifted my chin as I resumed my normal breathing. “You can do this, and you will do this. You’re not alone. I’m not going to leave your side for one second.”

  “Okay,” I said softly as a sense of calm descended over me. I guess Nate could add hypnotist to his repertoire if billionaire philanthropist Santa didn’t work out.

  “Now.” His lips cocked into a grin. “You ready to go meet the best Christmas gift ever?”

  The End

  Afterword

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you loved reading Jen and Nate’s story as much as I loved writing it! From the moment when Jen’s character first spoke to me as I was writing Into Focus (Annie and
Evan’s story), her snark cracked me up. I knew that she needed to meet her match.

  I hope this story helps to bring a little extra joy into your world this holiday season.

  I’m working hard on the next book in the series. I’ll let you guess whose spitfire little sister is going to meet her match next.