Stealing Christmas Read online

  My father always told me that Christmas was magical, and I smile even more, thinking about just how right he was. Something about her in my arms feels so perfect, and I don’t ever want to let her go.

  I can feel the vibration in Christmas’s chest as she hums along with the tune and reaches up a finger to trace my cheekbone. It’s so completely intimate, and I’m lost for a moment. It’s like we are the only two people on earth and this has all been created so that we could find one another and fall in love. Because that’s what’s happening inside me. As fast and as crazy as it may be, one look, one touch, and she was it for me.

  I don’t know how many songs play as I hold her in my arms. Her humming and me becoming a slave to her every touch. But one tune bleeds into the next, and the time goes by.

  It’s after midnight when the last of the guests finally make their way home. I made sure they all had safe transportation to wherever they were going, and Christmas seemed to approve of that. I wanted to do more to make her happy, and I suppose I could have invited people to stay, but that was crossing the line.

  I spent most of the night following Christmas around as she greeted guests and made sure everyone was having a good time. I never gave her any directions for what her purpose was here tonight, because honestly, the whole party was just an excuse to get her here.

  When a few people tried to speak to me about business or gain my attention, she had a perfect way of stepping in and directing the conversation back to them so that I wouldn’t have to talk and they wouldn’t feel slighted by my avoidance. She is truly a magical woman.

  As the night when on and the guests thinned out, she tried to help some of the caterers with cleaning up, but I took her hand and said there was enough staff hired. And they were all being paid hefty bonuses for working Christmas Eve.

  “I’ve had a room prepared for you,” I say, looking down at my feet. I don’t want her to think I’ve had this all planned from the beginning, even though I have.

  “That sounds nice,” she says, her agreement both surprising me and pleasing me. “My feet are starting to hurt.”

  “There’s an en suite in your room, with a large soaking tub if you feel like it.” I lead her up the stairs away from the grand hall and to the east wing of the castle. My room in on this end, conveniently located across the hall from her. “I’ve also taken the liberty of having some things brought to your room for your comfort while you stay.”

  “Thank you, Nic. That’s very sweet of you.”

  She takes me by surprise by rising up on her tiptoes and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. It happens so fast I don’t have a moment to react before she’s whispering good night and ducking into her room, closing the door softly behind her.

  “Goodnight, sweet Christmas,” I say, placing my hand on my cheek over the spot where she kissed me. It might be my imagination, but it feels like it’s tingling.

  I slowly move away from her closed door and into my room. I undress slowly, replaying every moment of tonight in my head. When I go to the bathroom, I look at my cheek to see if she left a mark, but there isn’t one. A little pang of disappointment hits me, but I still feel the tingle, so that has to mean something.

  I strip off my clothes and get in the shower, letting the hot water run down my back. I have visions of Christmas doing the same in the other room, and my cock hardens at the image. Her round curves bobbing to the top of the water as she soaks in the tub, where the bubbles cling to the top of her breasts and her pebbled nipples. I grab the soap and slick my hands, running them down my stomach. I wonder if she’s doing the same and if she lets her fingers slip between her legs. I grip my cock and squeeze it before pumping up and down. I imagine her thick thighs opening and the warm water tickling her secrets. The places I want to touch, to taste, to fuck. My cock aches for her and no one else as it throbs in my hand.

  I brace my free hand on the stone wall in front of me as I grunt and thrust into my fist. My orgasm bears down on me, and I grit my teeth as my cum shoots from my cock and splashes onto the cold stone. Long thick jets of it stream out as I whisper her name.

  “Christmas.”

  After I pull myself together and put on the red silk pajama bottoms my housekeeper laid out for me, I quietly creep across the hall, and knock softly on Christmas’ door. When there’s no answer, I try the knob and it turns.

  The room is dark, and I stick my head in and say her name. If she’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her, but I can’t bring myself to go to sleep until I see her one last time. It’s then I see her shadow on the bed, tucked under the covers as the moonlight streams in.

  Walking over, I see the blanket is around her waist and she’s wearing red silk that looks very similar to what I’m wearing. I’m going to have to give Carol a raise.

  Reaching down, I brush a stray hair out of her eyes and look at her peaceful face. She’s utterly beautiful, and I can’t think of a single thing to compare her to. Nothing even comes close to her magnificence. Her lips are slightly parted, and I lick my own, aching to taste her. And I’m a bastard, unable to stop myself from doing exactly what I want.

  Slowly, I lean down and softly brush my lips across hers. It’s heart-stoppingly perfect and I need more. It’s not everything that I want, but it’s enough. And it will have to be until morning.

  With one final look, I leave her to her dreams and go to find my own. I can only hope Christmas is there when I close my eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Rolling over, I look out the window and feel myself smile. The snow is still falling, and I can’t help but be happy. It’s Christmas and I’m not spending it alone. Excitement bubbles up inside me because of who I get to share it with. I slide from the bed, open the bedroom door, and tiptoe over to Nicholas’s room. Slowly I push open the door to see him lying on his back, sound asleep.

  I should turn around and go and let him sleep, but my feet keep moving me toward him. It’s as if they’ve got a mind of their own. He has a massive bed, and as I get closer I see he takes up most of it with his big body. When my eyes roam his chest, I see he doesn’t have a shirt on. He looks even bigger with his clothes off. His broad chest is covered in a thin layer of hair that trails all the way down, disappearing beneath the covers. God, he’s so handsome. I wonder why he hides away in his home.

  Unable to stop myself, I place my hand on his warm chest, feeling his hair against my fingertips. He looks so peaceful in his sleep. No brooding or worry lines. He always seems so intense, and this is the first time he’s looked completely relaxed and at ease.

  I gasp when a hand locks around my wrist, my eyes flying up to his open ones.

  “Merry—” I’m cut off when his other hand slides into my hair, gripping the back of my head and pulling me toward him faster than I can form a thought. Our mouths meet and his tongue swipes in, taking what it wants. Before I know what’s happening, I find myself crawling on top of him, falling into the kiss and wanting to be closer to him. I want to feel him against me, his warm body pressed close to mine. My mind is scattered, and the only thoughts I can’t seem to form are the ones telling me to hold him closer and rub against him. I don’t even think I’m kissing him back. He’s dominating my mouth, the kiss so deep and hungry. It’s as if he’s starved for it, starved for me.

  Then, as quickly as it began, it’s over and he’s gone, leaving me lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I look around and see he’s all the way on the other side of the bed with his back to me. He’s on the edge of the mattress, and I can see the thick muscles tensing under his skin. A string of curses leaves his mouth, and embarrassment fills me. Crap. I lie there for a moment, unsure of what to do but willing him to turn around and look at me. Give me something. Anything.

  “I didn’t know it was you,” he finally growls.

  I don’t even know what that means. Did he think I was someone else? Oh God, what if he has a girlfriend?

  “I’m sorry,” I say as I jump from the bed and run from the r
oom. I don’t stop running until I hit the bottom of the stairs.

  I stand there, wondering if he’s going to come after me. I hate this. When it comes to men, I have no idea what I’m doing. To be honest, I’ve never really cared before now. When I was about the age you start looking at boys, my mom had gotten sick. I put all my focus into her and our time together. Then I was so wrapped up in grief, I put all my focus into trying to be happy and into making other people happy, too.

  But this is different. Something about Nicholas is pulling me to him. When he kissed me, it was like I came alive. I want more, but it’s clear that isn’t what he wants. I thought after last night he liked me. The way he’d danced with me all night. It was like no one else was at the party. It was him and me in our own perfect little bubble. I reach up to touch my lips, remembering the feel of his against mine.

  I didn’t know it was you.

  Those words play through my mind over and over again. Who did he think I was? Someone he wanted to kiss, I guess. My bottom lips starts to tremble at the thought of him belonging to someone else. An emptiness fills me. He was never mine, yet I feel like I lost him.

  Stop it, I scold myself. I’m here to work. Or whatever. I woke up so happy this morning. I wasn’t spending Christmas alone for once. I’m still not alone, and I can be his friend. I can make the best of today.

  I start looking around the giant house for a kitchen. I’ll make breakfast. That’s the least I can do. French toast casserole is what my mom and I made every Christmas morning. It’s a tradition, and I make it on the days when I’m missing her most. Maybe I can make Nicholas breakfast as a way of apologizing for going into his room. I wonder how mad he is. What if he takes back the closing of the mall? I really stepped into this time.

  When I find the kitchen, I start busying myself. The pantry is stocked with all my heart’s desires, so I work on breakfast, hoping I’m not over-stepping once again. As I go to the sink, I look outside and see the snow coming down beautifully. It’s like a dream.

  It’s then I see a car pull up. And I can’t take my eyes off the woman with dark hair as she steps out and walks toward the house. Her hair falls to her shoulders in silky waves. She has on a long jacket with cherry-red heels, and I wonder how she’s getting around in the snow in them. She turns, and I get a look at her face. She’s utterly flawless. She’s exactly what I think of when I think of a runway model. I wonder if this was who Nicholas thought he was kissing. Why else would the woman be here on Christmas morning?

  As if she feels me watching her, her eyes come to mine and narrow on me. I look away, feeling like I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Yeah, I should probably go. I turn around to do just that, but come up short when I see Nicholas standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his dark eyes fixed on me.

  Still only wearing his silk pajamas, his gaze is nearly as hard has his chest. His fists are clenched at his side, and every muscle in his body is rigid. I can feel the lump growing in my throat as I hear the woman’s heels clicking as she calls out his name.

  Chapter Eight

  The image of Christmas standing in my kitchen, wearing her red silk nightgown that so closely matches my own, makes my cock throb. I just managed to get him under control as I stomped down the stairs looking for her. But here she is, standing in the front of the sink, with her big tits pushed against the silk material and her tight nipples poking through obscenely. She’s put on the matching red silk robe that came with it, which includes a white, fur-trimmed hood. But it’s come untied at the waist, revealing all that she’s trying to hide from me, and I clench my jaw to keep my tongue in my mouth.

  What I really want to do is lay her on the island, push apart her thick, dimpled thighs, and suck the cream out of her. I want her fat pussy in my mouth and her hands gripping my hair as she climaxes on my face. Goddamn, I bet she tastes like cinnamon down there, too. Would she scream so loud the staff would come running? Or would they know she was being given pleasure greater than they could possibly imagine, and keep clear.

  The reminder of the kiss has my sex-mad brain tripping up. I’d been dreaming when I felt her hand on my chest. My daytime fantasies had crept into my sleep, and when I felt her touch, my mind didn’t know the difference. I was kissing her before I even woke up, and when I finally did, I didn’t want to stop. It wasn’t until I’d rolled her over on her back and started to free my cock that I realized what I was doing. I was about to fuck her like a savage without so much as a warning before I recognized I needed to stop.

  I didn’t know it was her. I’d thought it was a dream. And then, suddenly, it was all real, and I had to stop. I didn’t want to—fuck, how I wanted to keep going—but I had to force myself to pull away.

  I let her run out of the room as I tied my pants and tried to breathe through the pain in my chest. God, how I want her. At first, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and she would be the perfect person to provide an heir. That all my goals could be solved with a stroke of a pen and a stroke of my cock, but I was wrong. She was so much more than I’d planned for. Seeing her, holding her in my arms, pressing my lips to hers, it’s like my heart stepped out of my chest and became Christmas. I can’t live without her.

  Squeezing my fists once more, I open my mouth to speak, but a voice stops me.

  “Nickie!”

  The sound makes a chill snake down my spine, and suddenly I’m aware of how undressed Christmas and I are.

  “Fuck. That’ll be Courtney.” I point a finger at Christmas. “Close your robe.”

  She looks stunned but, after a second, grabs the tie and pulls it closed. A deep blush hits her cheeks, and I wonder if she’s just now realizing how much she was showing me.

  “There you are!” Courtney says as she steps up behind me.

  I move just as she reaches out to touch me, not wanting anything of hers on me.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize the help was up,” Courtney says, looking over at Christmas brightly.

  She’s such a cunt. She assumes Christmas is nothing because she’s in the kitchen. But in reality, Christmas is everything to me, and that’s why she’s in the heart of my home. I cross my arms over my chest and step into her line of vision. Christmas may not know it yet, but she’ll catch on soon enough.

  Courtney hesitates for a second and then pushes on like she can’t feel the tension rolling off me, or the awkwardness of the situation. “I just came by to bring you your present.”

  Her words are meant to entice, but I ignore them. She lifts the little pink and black bag theatrically, and I roll my eyes. She bought lingerie, thinking that maybe this would push me into bed with her. Not happening. There’s only one body I want to warm me, and it’s the one behind me.

  “Please leave. You were not invited, and I have company.” My words are clipped and cold, and I can see the look of pissed off disappointment in her eyes. She thought she could get me alone on Christmas and then maybe I’d be amenable to what she’s been pushing for.

  Courtney is the daughter of a business associate, and the family wants to unite us in marriage. But I pushed against it. I don’t like anything about her. It would be one thing to have a marriage of convenience but another to have to fuck that evil woman. I made a polite decline to her father, but Courtney took it as a personal offense and continues to try to change my mind.

  “Fine,” she says, but she could be chewing on glass with the look on her face. “I’ve tried to make this work for both our families, Nickie, but you’re just a selfish asshole.”

  I want to respond to her with the cold hate in my heart, but I don’t want to ruin business dealings with her father because his daughter is a spoiled brat. So instead I remain silent, which only pisses her off further.

  “You know what? Fuck you, Nicholas. I’d heard you were chasing some poor fat chick that works at the mall. Guess you finally caught her.” She gives me a vindictive smile, and I see red.

  But before I can respond, Christmas is by my
side. Her warm hand presses to my lower stomach, and my arm instinctively wraps around her shoulder.

  “Is she leaving soon, Nic? I’ve got breakfast made for us.”

  I look down into Christmas’s deep green eyes and smile. Her warm words are stronger than anything I could have said back to Courtney, and ignoring her is the absolute worst thing Christmas could have done, in Courtney’s eyes. My lady is smart.

  “Good thing, because I’m starving.” I lean down and place my lips softly on hers. But as soon as they connect, I feel the need to deepen it.

  One small taste isn’t enough, and before I know what’s happening, I’ve got her in my arms and my tongue tasting hers. Her teeth nibble on my bottom lip, and I growl as I grab her ass with both hands and lift her up against my hard ridge.

  Somewhere in the distance, I hear the front door slam, but I pay it no attention.

  Fuck, I want to take her right here, right now. Desire bears down on me, and I’m pushed deeper as Christmas’s hands rub my chest and up my neck. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I sit her on the edge of the island so my hands can roam her body. My lips move down her neck, and I feel her tremble under my touch. My tongue travels to the valley between her breasts, and I lick her there, feeling her shiver.

  “Fire,” Christmas moans, and I grunt in response.

  “I know, baby. I’m on fire, too. I need you. God, this is so crazy, but I’m like a wild animal that’s found its mate.”

  “Oh, God,” she moans when I push the silk of her nightgown aside and find her nipple with my mouth. “No, fire. Oh, shit, Nic, fire!”

  It’s then I hear the smoke alarm going off and see smoke coming from the stove.

  Pulling back from Christmas, I run over to the stove and take the pan off the heat and cover it with a lid. The smell of burnt bacon fills the kitchen, it soon dissipates when I turn on the fan. I hear giggling behind me and turn around to see Christmas still on the edge of the counter with her hands over her mouth, trying not to laugh.