A Cozy Little Christmas

by Laylah Roberts

“You’re a Dom?”

  He’d already answered this question when they’d booked, but he nodded. “I am. I haven’t been a member of a club in a few years, though.”

  “You don’t wish to do any of our classes while you’re here? We have quite a few. I run one on using a bullwhip.”

  “Whoa, really?” Marcus stared at Derek with wide eyes. “Can I watch that?”

  “I’ll take him,” Cullen said. “If that’s acceptable.”

  Derek didn’t answer straight away. “I could be wrong, but it seems to me that you don’t particularly want to be here. You haven’t enrolled in any classes. You’re not a Daddy Dom. Can I trust you around my Littles, Mr. Cutler?”

  “Trust me? Are you insinuating that I would do something to them?”

  “I’m not saying that you would force them into something they didn’t want. Or that you’d do anything at all. But a hard look, a harsh word, that can hurt as much as anything physical. Some of my Littles are very vulnerable. Others are naïve and trusting.” His gaze flicked to Marcus. “You’re very protective of your cousin. I feel that way about all my Littles.”

  “I’m not here to do anything except watch out for my cousin. I doubt I’ll have anything much to do with the other Littles living here.” His mind went to the woman they’d just met. Ivy. Even her name had a Christmas theme.

  Christmas.

  It seemed he was going to be surrounded by Christmas crap for the next two weeks. He’d just have to suffer through it.

  Derek nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “Just a couple more things. If you want to go anywhere, there are carts you are welcome to use. I don’t like anyone wandering around alone after dark. Okay?”

  Cullen nodded with a small frown.

  “Great. Let me show you to your room. There’s an itinerary of activities in your room. There are two restaurants on site, as well as a small gift shop. Moses will have dropped your bags off to your suite. Any issues, please just call the front desk. Sorry, Sadie is better at this than me.”

  “Does Ivy have a boyfriend?” Marcus asked.

  Derek’s eyes widened. “Ivy?”

  “Marcus,” Cullen warned.

  “Yeah, my new bestie.”

  “I think that would be something to talk with Ivy about,” Derek said firmly. “I’ll leave you both to get settled.”

  “Thanks.” Cullen took his cousin’s arm and practically dragged him into the suite, shutting the door behind them. Sure enough, their bags were waiting inside a really nice suite.

  It was surprisingly spacious, with a huge king bed, small kitchenette and dining area, as well as a made-up pull-out couch that would be his. Great. Getting his big frame into that sofa bed was going to be fun.

  A set of doors opened out to a small terrace with their own jacuzzi. Nice. At least when his back was giving him hell from the sofa bed, he could soak the aches away in the jacuzzi tub. A gate in the fence around the terrace led to the pool area.

  “You have got to stop matchmaking,” Cullen said to Marcus. “I am not looking for a girlfriend.”

  “Jennifer would disagree.” Marcus replied, flinging himself onto the bed and flapping his arms around like a giant bird.

  “What do you mean? When did you talk to Jennifer?”

  Jennifer was a woman he’d dated a couple of times.

  “Oh, she came to the house to return your tie. I came downstairs to hear her spouting off nasty bullshit at Isla, who wouldn’t let her come inside. Threatened to have her fired, told her that she was going to marry you. Blah, blah, blah.”

  That wouldn’t sit well with Marcus, since he was very protective of their housekeeper.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “Threatened to ruin her. Told her that I’d use my billions of dollars to annihilate her in the press. She’s very enamored of her reputation, isn’t she?”

  “Well, she’s a socialite,” Cullen replied dryly.

  “She turned and scurried away. Really, you’d have thought that she might try to fight for your relationship a bit.”

  “We didn’t have a relationship. We had sex. What are you doing?” he finally asked, as Marcus continued to run his arms along the bed.

  “Making certain the bed smells like me. Oh, unless you want to sleep on it?”

  “We both know I’m taking the couch,” Cullen replied dryly.

  “Always the gentleman.” Marcus gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  Fuck. He was pissed at him.

  “I’m sorry if I’m being extra grouchy,” he finally managed to say.

  “What was that?”

  He frowned down at Marcus, who had a hand cupped around his ear.

  “Don’t be a jerk,” he told him.

  “But you rarely say you’re sorry. Wait, I want to record it.”

  “Now, you’re being a brat.”

  “Ooh, there he is. The big bad Dom. Just remember, you’re not my Dom.” Marcus pointed at him. “I love you to bits, Cullen. And I know your insane bossiness is just your way of proving that you love me. But I already know you love me. You don’t have to do anything to prove that to me. We’re ride or die, man.”

  “There better be no dying. Although with the way you drive…”

  “You don’t let me drive anymore, remember? Cullen, you’ve got to ease up before you give yourself an ulcer. Nothing bad is going to happen to me.”

  “You don’t know that. And if I can put safeguards in place, then why shouldn’t I? You’re a risk-taker.”

  “And you’re so risk averse that I’m starting to worry that one day you just won’t get out of bed.”

  Fuck.

  He wasn’t entirely wrong about that. There had been days…

  “That won’t happen.”

  “No, I won’t let it happen. But I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get an ulcer from the stress of taking care of me. I might be a Little, but I’m also a grown man. I don’t have to be taken care of like a child constantly. You’re my cousin, not my Daddy or my Dom. Yeah, you’ve taken on the role of caregiver, but I don’t want to be someone you have to take care of.”

  “You’re not. If you’re trying to insinuate that you’re a burden, that’s just bullshit.”

  “Okay, but I want you to have a life. All right? Have some fun. Relax a bit. I’m sorry that you’re being forced to be somewhere like this—”

  “No one forced me.”

  “If you really hate it here, then we’ll leave and go to Cancun or Ibiza or New Zealand. Wherever.”

  “New Zealand?”

  “It’s sunny down there this time of year. And I’ve always wanted to see a Kiwi.”

  “The person or the animal?”

  “Maybe both. I hear those Kiwis have sexy as fuck accents,” Marcus said with a sly grin. “But seriously, if it’s too much, we can leave. You mean more to me than this.”

  “I can handle a bit of Christmas fucking cheer. Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot.”

  “Well, don’t be a Jerky McJerkface.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, you really have a McJerkface.”

  Cullen just grinned and shook his head. “I hope you get your butt spanked at Little school.”

  Marcus wriggled his eyebrows. “Me too.”

  “Urgh, enough. I don’t need to hear about your fantasies. Dinner?”

  “Fuck, yes, I’m starving. I’m a growing boy, you know.” He jumped to his feet and Cullen whacked his stomach.

  “Hmm, growing you say?”

  “Asshole McAssface.”

  “Now you’re just getting lazy with the insults. I’m sure your genius IQ can do better than that.”

  “You’re right. I’ll work harder.”

  Chapter 2

  Ivy hummed a Christmas tune as she hefted up the pile of dress-up outfits she was carrying. She should have put them in the cart and wheeled them over to the Littles’ wing. Too late now, though.

  She turned the corner and hit
a wall.

  A wall that shouldn’t have been there. She started falling backward with a cry until two hands reached out and caught her upper arms. The outfits fell onto the floor as she attempted to catch her breath. She gazed up into the scowling face of Cullen Cutler.

  With a name like that, he could have been a movie star. He definitely had the face. And the body, muscular, but not too big, with firm shoulders, a trim waist, big feet…

  Ivy, stop checking him out.

  “Jingle bells! I’m so sorry!”

  “Did you just say jingle bells?” he asked, staring down at her like she was some weird exhibit at a museum.

  Mummified poop.

  Yep, that was the look on his face. She was mummified poop-kind of gross, sort of weird.

  “Um, yes.”

  His hands burned through her thin sweater and a wash of arousal ran through her.

  Bad. Ivy. You cannot be attracted to the grumpy new guest. No matter how sexy he is.

  “So, you say jingle bells instead of swearing?”

  “Yes. Is there something wrong with that?”

  He grunted, looking unimpressed. His gaze flicked to where he held her before he let go of her so suddenly that she swayed. The rejection kind of hurt, even though she told herself that it shouldn’t. She didn’t know him. She shouldn’t care what he thought of her.

  She kind of expected him to walk off and leave her to pick everything up, so she was shocked when he crouched down and started picking up the outfits she’d dropped, folding them neatly into a pile.

  “Oh, you don’t need to do that. I can get them. I’m so sorry for banging into you. I should have been watching where I was going.” Kneeling, she reached for an outfit at the exact same time as he did. “Please, let me. It was my fault. I’m sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing,” he told her firmly.

  “Oh, right, sor—right, um, yes.”

  Son of a nutcracker! She was being ridiculous. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. He made her so nervous. He was gorgeous. She couldn’t help but feel this attraction to him. Even though she was in no way near his level. It was likely he went for beautiful, tall, confident women who likely had their lives together.

  Smart and sophisticated, she was not. She hadn’t even finished college.

  Her shoulders slumped.

  “You’ve stopped apologizing?”

  “Yes.” Sir. She bit off that last part. That wasn’t for her. She was an employee, not a sub or Little.

  “Good. Now, let go of the…is this an elf outfit?”

  “Um, yes, I was taking these to the Littles’ wing.”

  He grimaced. “Right.”

  “You have a problem with that?”

  Whoa, what are you doing, Ivy?

  Not only was he a guest, but this wasn’t like her. She was kind and polite to everyone. Maybe if she’d stuck up for herself a bit more, she wouldn’t be middle-aged, divorced, and broke. But none of that was Mr. Cutler’s problem or fault.

  “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Are you asking if I have a problem with Littles?

  “As I said, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “I don’t have a problem with Littles or age play or anything to do with this ranch.”

  “I shouldn’t have said, I’m so—”

  “Do not say you’re sorry,” he growled.

  “Right. Um, yes. Habit.” She’d learned that she always had to be the one to say sorry, even if she hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just easier than having her ex-husband freeze her out.

  She hated when he did that.

  “You shouldn’t say sorry unless you’ve done something wrong. My issue is with Christmas.”

  “You don’t like Christmas?” She gave him a shocked look. Who didn’t like Christmas? Not everyone was on her level, sure. She loved Christmas.

  “No,” he said shortly. By now, he’d finished folding each outfit and had them stacked in two neat piles. “Obviously you do.” He glanced pointedly at today’s headband. “Are those meant to be Santa’s legs?”

  “Yes, he’s stuck in the chimney.” She reached up to feel her headband, hoping it was still in place.

  “Would you like help—”

  “Ivy! There you are! I was coming to see if you needed help.”

  She glanced up with a smile as Rett Hawkins walked up to her. He was one of the newer teachers and Derek’s cousin. “Thanks, that would be great. I’m afraid I just bumped into Mr. Cutler and everything went flying. He was kind enough to pick all of the outfits up for me.”

  Cullen didn’t say anything, just rose to his feet. Rett reached out for her and she awkwardly put her forearm in his hand. He helped her up. Cullen’s eyes narrowed and he appeared irritated for some reason.

  “Have a nice day,” she said as she reached down to pick up one pile. Cullen beat her to it, lifting them. She held out her arms and he placed them in.

  Then, without saying anything, he turned and walked away.

  “You okay, Ivy?” Rett asked kindly.

  “Just fine. Let’s get these to everyone. They’ll be dying to try them on.”

  Ivy giggled as she moved Gnomes Better to the base of a new tree. He was one of her Christmas gnomes. She hummed a Christmas carol as she worked.

  Now, where to put Jinxies?

  “Ooh, there you go, Jinxies.” She tucked him between two big tree roots. He was also ceramic, and she’d put some tinsel around his neck for a Christmas scarf. The Littles were going to love going for a walk tomorrow and seeing that all the Christmas gnomes had moved.

  “All right, where are we going to put you, Mr. Grumpy Face?” Mr. Grumpy Face was a soft toy. He kind of reminded her of Cullen Cutler. Jeez, his scowl could straighten the curls in her hair. Except she didn’t have curls. But if she did…sheesh.

  It didn’t help that he was so gorgeous, he made her breathing grow faster and her insides heat. She hadn’t felt that way about another man in, well, not since Davis told her he wanted a divorce.

  “Don’t think about him, Ivy,” she muttered to herself as she reached up on her tiptoes to attempt to get Mr. Grumpy Face onto a high branch of a tree. The gnomes were scattered around the wooded area close to the Little’s wing. It was getting a bit cold for the Littles to come outside for long, but they loved adventuring out for a short stroll under the watchful eye of Nanny J or Miss Price to see the gnomes.

  “Jingle bells! Get up there, Mr. Grumpy Face.” It would be dark soon, and she knew that Derek wouldn’t be happy if he caught her out here on her own after sunset. If Mr. Grumpy Face would just get in the darn tree, then she could get back to her apartment.

  She jumped and threw him into the tree. Only when she landed, her foot gave way. She would have fallen on her ass if two strong arms hadn’t caught her. With a gasp, she slammed into a wide chest. She was held there for a moment while she attempted to catch her breath. The scent of vanilla and ginger hit her nose.

  Then she was suddenly placed on her feet, and that warm body disappeared, leaving her shivering. Drat. She should have grabbed her coat before coming out. Turning, she opened her mouth to thank the person who’d caught her; the words sticking in her throat as she saw him standing there.

  Cullen Cutler.

  He’d caught her? Wow. She should have known by her body’s reaction that it was him. Before she could speak, though, he frowned down at her, his eyes running over her.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Oh, I…”

  “I thought Littles weren’t allowed out on their own?”

  “I’m not a Little, Sir.”

  That dream had disappeared, suppressed under a litany of verbal put-downs.

  It was enough to be around the Littles and their Tops. That was just fine with her. She didn’t have time to indulge a fantasy. Her bank account was bare, she had nowhere to live and this job was temporary. What she needed to do was be realistic. It wasn’t lik
e anyone would want someone like her anyway.

  He gave her another up and down look. “Call me Cullen. It’s nearly dark and you’re not supposed to be wandering after dark. I read the rules.”

  “Then you’d know that applies to you, too.”

  He snorted. “Pretty sure I’ll be all right.”

  “I’ll be fine, too.”

  “What are you going to do if something attacks? Tinsel them to death?”

  She sucked in a breath. “What have you got against tinsel?”

  “It’s shiny and annoying. Those little pieces fall off and go everywhere. And it prickles.”

  “But it’s so pretty.”

  “So is a pufferfish, yet they have enough deadly toxin in them to kill thirty humans.”

  “Wow, you are really in a good mood tonight, huh?”

  He shrugged and reached into his pocket to bring out a cigar case. He smoked?

  “You know those things will kill you, right?”

  “So will a lot of things. And I don’t smoke cigarettes, just the occasional cigar. What are you doing with that?” He glanced down at her feet.

  “Oh drat! Mr. Grumpy Face! What are you doing down there?” She picked him up and brushed him off.

  “Mr. Grumpy Face?” he asked.

  “Yeah. See.” She turned the gnome around. “Like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?”

  As soon as the words were out, she wished them back. Probably best not to be rude to the man who was twice her size when she was standing in an empty wooded area and nobody would hear her scream.

  She waited for him to snap back. Instead, he grinned.

  Whoa, baby.

  He was even more gorgeous when he grinned.

  “You think I have a grumpy face?”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed. “But it was accurate, so I’ll let you get away with it. But you might want to refrain from insulting strange men, okay?”

  The warning was surprisingly gentle, and she found herself nodding in agreement. “Probably a good idea.”

  “So why are you trying to put Mr. Grumpy Face in a tree?” he asked.

  “Oh, he’s part of my Christmas gnome collection. There’s Mr. Grumpy Face, Jingles, Jinxies, Gnomes Better, Gnomes so Much, Twinkles, and Bart.”