The Billionaire's Holiday Obsession

by Nadia Lee

  “What? Why not?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Don’t you decorate the place every Christmas?”

  “No. I always spend Christmas Eve at my parents’.”

  She worried her lower lip. No decorations? None? Everyone bought trees for Christmas, didn’t they?

  He narrowed his eyes. “Jane, what did you do?”

  “I, ah, ordered a tree.”

  “Why in the world did you do that?”

  “Because it’s Christmas! Don’t people in your social circles do trees and stuff?”

  “Of course they do, but I don’t.” He waved a hand. “No problem. Just send it back.”

  “I can’t. I bought it through one of the cooks at Éternité. I wanted to get something nice for you, and you said you hadn’t bought a tree.”

  Iain gave her a long hard stare, which made her want to squirm. Finally he sighed. “All right. I guess we can have a tree.”

  * * *

  Why did I say yes to the friggin’ tree? Ugh. If it had been anybody else Iain would’ve insisted on sending it back or chopping it up and donating it to some camping place. One way or another, it’d be gone. Christmas trees were the epitome of clutter.

  Now the inner peace and calm he’d achieved through his morning exercises was gone. He wanted to lock himself in his room and meditate until he felt more sanguine about the unnecessary tree. It was amazing how Jane could want to fill up his place with stuff. It had just the right balance of creature comfort and openness as it was.

  “We should hit the mall for decorations,” she said.

  “No, this time we’re going to shop online. They have deals, too, and it’ll be cheaper.”

  “You think so? It seems so impersonal.”

  That was the best thing about online shopping, but he knew she’d never agree to it for that reason. “They have big sales. They don’t want to lose out to the brick and mortar stores… Oh, and we can save on gas!”

  She frowned. “I have the feeling I’m being hoodwinked.”

  Iain spread his hands. “Hey. You can’t put cheap gas in an Audi or Maserati.”

  “You can’t?”

  “Nope. Some gas stations don’t even carry anything good enough for them.” Ah-ha. Her jaw slackened, and he smiled inwardly. He should’ve used this the day before to avoid the horror show of Black Friday.

  “Well…I guess. I wonder if I can buy wrapping paper. I want to put gifts under the tree.”

  Even more clutter. “They sell it, but we can keep the boxes in the storage room until Christmas day.”

  “Don’t you want to see the gifts and wonder what’s in them?”

  “Not really.”

  “Didn’t you ever wonder what Santa would bring you when you were a kid?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.” He shrugged carelessly. “My older brother told me Santa wasn’t real.”

  “Oh, no way. How old were you?”

  “Five.”

  “Aww.” She took his hand. “What a jerk!”

  “Dane does what Dane does.”

  “Did he ruin it for the other siblings too?”

  “Probably.” Dane didn’t believe in sugarcoating anything.

  “And he still gets invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas?”

  “He’s the heir who will carry on the family legacy.” Their grandmother, Shirley Pryce, had often remarked on it. And when Shirley Pryce had an opinion, everyone heard about it.

  “But you still got gifts from Santa, didn’t you?”

  “Yes and no. Dane had me stay up all night to catch Santa. I saw our butler put Santa’s presents under the tree.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Dane believes in reality and facts. It’s actually served him pretty well.” Iain wished he’d had the same emotional cool. Then he would’ve never jumped to conclusions about their parents’ marriage.

  “There’s more to life than just reality and facts. We have our hopes and dreams.”

  He gave her a small smile. What would it feel like to believe in such a fantasy? He knew life was much harsher. Jane probably hadn’t known because of her small town background, and not even her experience with that gambling loser had cured her of her innocence.

  He turned her hand over and held it tightly. For her own sake, he wished she’d become more worldly. At the same time he couldn’t help but mourn the idea of her turning into someone as detached and cold as he was.

  * * *

  The Christmas decoration shopping didn’t take much time at all. Iain just put a bunch of stuff into his cart and ordered all of it to be delivered via express shipping.

  Jane stared at the amount of money he’d just dropped. “Do you know you spent over five hundred dollars on glass balls alone?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “I thought you were putting them in the cart to compare prices later.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  It was like she was speaking Martian. “So you can get the best deal…?”

  “You mean spend thirty minutes sweating to save five or six bucks? No thanks. Pryces don’t haggle over price.”

  She shook her head. It must be nice to not pinch every penny until it squealed. No matter how successful she became, she could never be that lax.

  “Come on, let’s go out,” Iain said.

  “Where to?”

  “Someplace you said you haven’t been. Put on a pair of flats though.”

  That sounded intriguing, and she dressed quickly for their outing. Winter in L.A. was so warm compared to Paris. She put on one of the nice dresses Iain had bought her, in case they were going to someplace fancy. She didn’t want to embarrass him.

  When did you start letting his feelings affect your actions?

  But she couldn’t help it. She wanted to make him happy to compensate for the years he hadn’t been. It was obvious from what he’d said that life hadn’t been kind to him despite all his material comfort. And she’d seen how his parents were. Even if his family had never had money problems, it was clearly dysfunctional. She didn’t understand how people around him couldn’t see what a sensitive soul he was, and how deeply he felt and suffered.

  “That looks great on you,” he said, as he took in her peach-colored long-sleeved dress. He was stunning in a black button-down shirt and matching pants. “You might want to bring a jacket though.”

  “Really? It still feels practically like summer.”

  “Trust me,” he said, so she went back to her room and grab a fitted camel jacket.

  He drove them in his Maserati. For a man who talked about saving gas, he’d chosen a place far from his penthouse. They traveled through the downtown area, out to the 405, and then finally onto side-streets that ended at a bluff. He finally stopped his car and they got out.

  “Okay, you were right,” she said. “It’s a little cold.” A long set of stairs was in front of them, leading down to a nearly deserted beach.

  “Yeah. But that’s why it’s the best. Come on.” He started down the stairs.

  She followed him dubiously. “Are we going swimming?”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry.”

  They went down, crossed a highway, and were on the sand. The briny wind from the sea was cold and heavy. The ocean was much louder than she’d imagined. All that dark water churned and arched until it crashed into the sand with a roar.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. Beautiful was actually inadequate. It was haunting.

  Iain stared out at the horizon. “I love the beach in winter,” he said. “It’s…perfect.”

  She turned to look at his face and saw—really saw—what he loved as pure serenity settled over him. He was alone in the vast openness. Despite its volume, the sound of waves was soothing, like a steady heartbeat of nature. It blocked everything else out, so you could hear your own thoughts and have clarity of mind. She understood how important it was to Iain to have this level of calmness, and how
being around other people, no matter how much he loved them, couldn’t give him the same sort of peace.

  She turned her gaze back to the ocean and let her mind absorb the sounds of nature around her. As wave after wave beat against the sand, she figured out the answer to the question André had posed. She also realized she was starting to fall for Iain.

  The former was something she needed, but the latter… She stole a quick glance at Iain. He had his eyes closed, his face utterly relaxed. It was such a cliché—a poor girl falling for a gorgeous rich guy. She’d seen it even in her small town. Bet it was a dime-a-dozen story in a city like L.A. She should think about protecting herself so when he left, it wouldn’t shatter her.

  But she didn’t want to pull back. No matter how relaxed and calm he looked, there was still something frayed about him. She wanted to hold him and soothe him, except that was a ridiculous impulse. Instead she reached over and linked her hand with his, and both of them stood there silently, side-by-side, facing the stygian sea.

  * * *

  Iain was drifting, floating with the wind and mist. It was like he was watching himself from some faraway place. He was weightless, and there was a hollowness at his core that kept him cold. But so long as it was empty, he was okay with it.

  Then Jane took his hand. The connection pulled him back, dragging his mind back to the flesh of his body, and he opened his eyes. Something warm and sweet filled his hollow core, and he didn’t dare blink lest it prove to be a dream.

  He hadn’t felt this kind of comfort and affection in ages. He’d experienced it when he’d been a child, unaware of anything except how much his family loved him and how much he loved them back. But the more he learned about them, the harder it had been to pretend that everything was fine.

  Iain glanced sideways at her, barely moving his head, wondering if she felt the tranquility the same way he did. The serene look on her face said: maybe. Then he closed his eyes again, allowing himself to savor the moment…before it too came to an end.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next few days turned out to be brutal. Amid the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, Jane didn’t even get a chance to tell André what she’d realized. She worked non-stop, lunch and dinner. The other dishwasher got food poisoning and couldn’t even sit up, and André—ever the gentleman—was adamant about not having a “sick, puking bastard” in his kitchen.

  Every time she left Éternité, she just wanted to shower and go to bed. But Iain would be waiting, and she could never just shower and sleep when he was around. He told her in explicit detail what he wanted to do to her, and her body, no matter how tired, went hot and slick at all the thrillingly erotic images his words created.

  On the sixth morning—finally, the first day she had off since the other dishwasher became ill—she lay in bed, staring at nothing. Iain was already up and probably into his morning routine. She wanted to watch him, but she also wanted to lie there and savor the way he’d driven into her like he couldn’t get enough the night before…or how he’d made her come while spanking her.

  She clenched her butt. It was a good thing she didn’t have to go to work that day. She didn’t think she could let anything brush by her backside without going wet.

  Okay, girl, enough dirty thoughts. UPS had delivered several boxes of brand new decorations a few days earlier, and Diego’s cousin had brought a handsome tree around the day before. She needed to get the place decorated or their Christmas would be the saddest ever.

  She put on comfy yoga pants and a white tee with a glittery green Christmas tree in front and went out to the main room. Iain was drinking a glass of OJ. He looked amazing, the strong column of his throat working as he swallowed, and immediately all thoughts of decorating disappeared from her mind. She licked her lips in anticipation. He’d been in charge the last few nights, and she enjoyed that. But now she wanted to see how far she could push him and smash his tight control.

  “Good morning,” she said, deliberately kissing him on the tip of his chin rather than his mouth like he wanted. “Already finished with your exercises?”

  “You finally awake?”

  “Mmm.” She pressed against him. “I was exhausted. A certain someone kept me up.”

  “Did he?” He chuckled. “If you want, you can sleep some more. I know you’re tired.”

  “I am tired, and maybe going back to bed is a good idea.” She nipped his lower lip and deliberately ran the back of her hand against the side of his cock. It twitched.

  “If you keep that up, you won’t be going to bed any time soon.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m going to put you on your knees and make you give me head.”

  Damn. Just like that she was turned on. She’d never done it like that before. She’d always thought it looked so…staged, like in a porn flick. But right now the idea intrigued her, and it felt spontaneous and fun. “You don’t have to do anything. I want to do it anyway. Now.”

  His eyes darkened. Before he could move, she put a hand on his. “I might be on my knees, Iain, but just remember who’s holding whom in her mouth. So I’m in charge.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yep. You have to hold back and not come until I tell you to. And you can’t touch me or say anything, but you have to watch.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I’ll even be nice and let you brace yourself against the counter if you want.”

  “You know I have excellent control,” he said, his eyebrow arching.

  “We’ll see.”

  With a crooked smile, he rested his hands on the counter and stood with his legs slightly apart. She knew what he was thinking. He assumed she’d drop to her knees immediately and get to work.

  Nope. She wanted him completely worked up before she even got to the main event. So she started out kissing his mouth, cheeks and neck and chest. It was so easy to nibble and lick and love his body. His skin was so smooth and warm, and the muscles underneath were hard and strong. He smelled like soap and musk, and there was a faint hint of clean sweat. She flicked her tongue over his nipple, then nipped it. His sharp intake of breath brought a smile to her lips, but she continued, making sure her hair brushed against his body as she moved.

  By the time she was on her knees, he was breathing hard. She blew lightly over the head through his shorts, and she watched him stare down at her. Slowly…very slowly she pulled down his shorts and let out a sigh of satisfaction at the clear beads of liquid at the tip. And as some of the naughty things she’d wondered about flashed through her mind, she gave Iain a wicked smile. She was going to make him lose it.

  * * *

  If she didn’t hurry, she was going to make him lose it.

  And the feline smile on her face didn’t reassure Iain that she was going to have mercy on him.

  Deliberately, Jane cupped the underside of her breasts. She was gorgeous on her knees, touching her tits. He loved them for their responsiveness. Her nipples were already hard, but she pinched them, letting out a soft sigh. Elevating herself, she brushed her nipples against the tip of his cock, and they glistened with his pre-cum. His balls pulled tighter, and he could feel the pressure building at the back of his spine.

  Easy, easy.

  “If you can’t maintain control, you can always say uncle,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming.

  He didn’t think so. Iain Pryce did not lose control. He certainly did not cry uncle.

  She brushed the side of her breasts along his throbbing shaft, then nestled it between them. It felt amazing. When clear droplets fell from the head of his cock to her cleavage, she dipped her forefinger in it and licked it delicately with her tongue.

  All the air in his lungs left as she pulled the head into her mouth in one smooth movement. The tip of her tongue teased, and her hands seemed everywhere, caressing and fondling his balls and the sensitive flesh around them. As she took him deeper, he wanted to close his eyes and pretend he was anywhere but here so he wouldn’t lose control, but
he couldn’t. He wanted to fully experience every second with Jane.

  So he suffered her wicked torment. Even as a virgin he’d never lost control with women, no matter what, and he didn’t plan to now.

  She pulled him almost all the way in, and hummed her appreciation. When she raised her eyes again, there was such sensual contentment that it punched him where he was most vulnerable—and he shattered.

  A groan tore from his chest, and he came hard in her mouth. His knees felt about as stable as ice cream, and he couldn’t do anything except cling to the counter behind him.

  She pulled him down and held him as he tried to regain his thoughts. As he looked up at her radiant face, warmth settled in the core of his being. It was different from the inner peace and calm he usually achieved from meditation and exercises. That generally felt cool and tranquil. The contentment Jane instilled in him was anything but. Still, it kept him centered and…happy. Like, “smile like an idiot” happy.

  He finally sat up and kissed her on the mouth. “Well, now that you won, what do you want for a prize?”

  Lowering her gaze, she gave him a small, sheepish smile. “You.”

  “Seriously? You’re feeling shy? After what you just did to me?”

  “A little.”

  Laughing, he picked her up and carried her to her bedroom.

  As he deposited her on the bed, she pulled him down. “I want you to make love to me.”

  “Good. Cause that’s about to happen.”

  “And then I want us to spend the day together, unless you have something to do.”

  He couldn’t remember if he had any appointments, but his assistant could rearrange everything. “Okay.”

  Jane’s eyes warmed, and she took off her pants and panties and reached for a foil package in the bedside drawer. “Don’t tease, Iain. I’m too primed.”

  He could feel the hot wetness between her legs. “Whatever you want, baby.” He wasn’t in the mood to tease her either. Sexual one-upmanship games could be fun, but right now he just wanted to be as close to her as possible.

  With a long sigh, she parted her legs, and he slowly, gently slide inside her. Hands linked and eyes on each other, they moved until the sweetness between them became unbearable and all consuming. He watched with reverence and care as an orgasm twisted her face, intent on remembering every line and nuance of her expression forever.