The Perfect Gift: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

by Mia Ford

  He made me blush without meaning to. “Really?”

  “Zoe, you are the epitome of a success author and entrepreneur. Your books are your products. You are the business. You are well qualified to talk about the subject. You in the one-percent of authors who actually make a great living writing their own books.”

  “Maybe…”

  He held out his glass, extended a finger at me, and let his head slowly bob. “I think you have a lot more to talk about than you think. I might be able to convince them to do a longer segment on you. Maybe even a fully produced piece. There are a million questions readers and other writers have for successful authors such as yourself. Hell, you’re leaving for Costa Rica, for crying out loud, to research and write a book! Who else do you know that gets to travel to exotic places and gets paid to lounge by the pool and write? People love hearing how dreams come true. They are looking for that magic piece that will bring them success. Some tiny piece of the puzzle and you of all people, Zoe Maxwell, can show them the way.”

  I laughed at his enthusiasm, and misconception of my life. Lounge and write? Is that seriously what he thought I did? Sure. That’s all I do. My lounging life. I only wish.

  “So, this is why you lured me over tonight? To get me to agree to go on Good Morning Manhattan? Because if there’s no food involved I’m going to be pissed.”

  “There’s food, don’t worry,” he said with a smile. He let his eyes drift down to the wine glass in his hand. He swirled the wine and watched it go around the glass. “I also wanted to ask you about last night.”

  I hid behind the glass, knowing what was coming. “What about it?”

  “You left suddenly, like you couldn’t wait to get out of there. I know you hate those things, but you really seemed upset.”

  I put on a happy face and sipped the wine like it was no big deal. “Sorry for rushing out like that, but it had been a long day and I really just wanted to get home where it was quiet. And get away from leeches like Andrew and Carla. People like that just bug me to no end.”

  I hoped the lie was good enough to convince him to drop the subject. He knew Mark and I were on the rocks and so far, had shown the decency not to pry. Somehow, I felt that might be changing as he studied my face, looking for a crack in my armor.

  “Are you sure that’s all it was,” he asked after a moment. He looked past me to stare out the window at the twinkling skyline to avoid looking into my eyes. “I saw Mark come out of the ladies’ room. I figured you two had been at it again.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, working up my best insulted face.

  “Nothing,” he said, shrugging with his eyebrows, bringing the glass to his lips. He let his eyes swing back to mine. “So, can I tell the producer at GMM that you’ll do it? It would be great for the new book, and the backlist.”

  I took a deep breath. Graham was a shrewd negotiator. I could either agree to do the show or he’d continue to press me about Mark. Son of a bitch was good, I had to give him that.

  “Fine. Okay. I’ll do it.” My voice was less than enthusiastic, but Graham didn’t seem to care. If it was anyone other than Graham, I would have definitely said no freakin’ way. But Graham was my best friend, my mentor, and savior. He was the one who gave this struggling writer a chance all those years ago. He introduced me to my agent, got me my first publishing contract, bragged about me to critics, and was always looking out for me, even when he didn’t agree with my actions, like getting involved with Mark. His advice and guidance and connections had been just as important to my career as the writing. There was no way I could turn him down.

  Graham held up his wine glass and smiled. “They are going to be over-the-top excited to hear you’ll be on the show! I literally can’t wait to share the good news!”

  “Well, don’t get too over-the-top excited about it,” I said. “I could be a total train wreck on camera.”

  “I’m not worried at all,” he said with a smile. “I’ll see if they will give you a little extra time at the end of the show to do some Q&A with the audience. And I’ll make sure to send over enough books so that everyone in the audience will get a copy of your new bestseller. Maybe they’ll let you sign the books after the show.”

  “More good news,” I said, shaking my head. I hated book signings, even though they were a necessary part of the process. “So, when is the taping?”

  “Monday morning,” Graham said as he dabbed wine from the corners of his lips with the tips of his manicured fingers. “They’ll send a car for you at 7 A.M. and you’ll go straight into hair and makeup. The show airs at 8 A.M. and your segment will be around 8:45.”

  “7 A.M… Fuck, Graham, you know I don’t get up before noon,” I said.

  “It’s a morning show, my darling,” he said with an unsympathetic smirk. “Just take it easy this weekend. No big parties. No drunken orgies. No binge drinking.”

  “I wish,” I said, rolling my eyes. I finished the wine and held out my glass. “The things I do for my art. And for you. More insanely expensive wine, please.”

  Graham smiled as he stood up and offered me his hand. “It’s tough being you, I’m sure. Come on, let’s see if a nice filet mignon can make you feel better.”

  “Who are the other entrepreneurs that will be on the show?” I asked as he led me into the dining room, where his cook had set out a wonderful dinner for the two of us.

  “The producer didn’t know for sure,” he said, holding out my chair. “The whole thing seemed very last minute. I got the impression that they were hustling to get guests on because the guy from Shark Tank canceled. She mentioned someone flying in from Los Angeles, but I didn’t catch the name.”

  “Well, at least I don’t have to fly clear across country for a two-minute interview,” I said, holding out my glass for a refill. Graham refilled both our glasses, then tapped his glass up to mine.

  “Here’s to a stellar appearance,” he said with a broad smile. “And to your next bestseller.”

  CHAPTER FOUR: Chad

  “Welcome to New York, sir!” the doorman at the front entrance of the Mark Hotel said as he held open the door for me.

  “Thanks,” I said as I walked through the doors and across the black and white marble floor toward the front desk. A young Asian woman standing behind the desk smiled at me. “Hello, sir, may I help you?”

  “Chad Walters,” I said, stepping up to the desk and letting the carryon bag slide from my shoulder to the floor. “I should have a reservation.”

  “Yes, sir, one moment.” Her thin fingers flew across the computer keys looking for the reservation. She frowned at the screen for a moment, then looked up and smiled, as if she realized who I was.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, resting my arms on the counter. I glanced at my watch. I’d been on the plane for eight hours. Even though I had flown first class all the way, my back was screaming for a massage and I desperately needed a shower and a drink. If this reservation was fucked up, I was gonna go ballistic on some poor soul.

  She kept smiling at me. “Oh yes, Mr. Walters, I have your reservation right here. We have the penthouse suite all ready for you sir. Your suite has amazing panoramic views of the city skyline and Central Park, and of course, a staircase that leads to your own private outdoor terrace, a conservatory, a fully stocked wet bar, and a library lounge. It also looks like you have requested a car and driver for your stay.”

  “You sound like a brochure,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

  The smile didn’t break, but she pushed her eyebrows up. “Sir?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Anything else?”

  She batted her long eyelashes at me and pursed her lips. “Is there anything else you need, sir? Anything I can do for you?”

  I smiled. She was hitting on me. Fucking groupies. They were everywhere. “No, not at the moment,” I said, holding out my hand. “Just need my key.”

  She tried not to look too disappointed. “Yes, here you are, sir.” She slid the key into my hand
, then picked up a slip of paper and scribbled her name and number on it. She folded the paper and slid it across the counter to me. “That’s my number, in case you change your mind. I’m here till 6 A.M.”

  “Good to know,” I said, picking up the slip of paper and tucking it into my back pocket. I picked up my bag and smiled at her. You never know, I might get in the mood for a little Chinese takeout later tonight (okay, that joke was too corny even for me).

  “The elevator is across the lobby and down the hall,” she said, pointing. “You’ll need to insert your key to access the penthouse. Please let me know if you have any other… needs.”

  “I will,” I said with a smile. “I definitely will.”

  * * *

  The elevator opened directly into the penthouse and I walked through the cavernous space with my mouth hanging open. The place looked like an extravagant New York City apartment. I didn’t want to think about what the place was costing me per night. Mark took care of business. I just showed up and did my thing. However expensive it cost would come back to me a thousand-fold if the appearance on Good Morning Manhattan did what Mark thought it would do.

  The place was decked out to the max, from custom kitchen cabinets, granite countertops, marble floors, sound-proof windows, stainless steel everything, heated towel racks, a shower that would hold six people… the list just went on and on.

  I dropped my bag on the bed, then went back into the kitchen and found a bottle of Coors in the fridge and popped the cap as I walked through the penthouse to the rooftop terrace. The view was nothing short of amazing. The view alone was worth whatever the place cost per night. I could imagine sitting up there smoking a nice cigar and sipping brandy, a naked blonde with big tits rubbing the tiredness from my shoulders….

  Sometimes I wished that I had someone to share these moments with. I wished that I could find the perfect woman. The thing was, I wasn’t ready to settle down just yet. I knew I didn’t want kids anytime soon, and pretty much every woman I met—other than the groupies who were just out to fuck a famous guy— had the white picket fence and babies on their agenda. That’s one of the things I liked about Bree. Then again, she was not someone I could see myself with for the long haul. After blowing her off the other night, I’d probably never hear from her again. Sad to say, but I was just fine with that.

  I liked being able to call up a woman, have a night of mutual rough sex, and send them on their way. Married or unmarried, straight or bi, they all seemed to want a piece of Chad Walters. And why not? I didn’t train this hard and sculpt this body for nothing. And I sure wasn’t going to turn down a hot pussy when it invited me to come in (no pun intended).

  I don’t mean to be cocky, but I could literally walk down the street here in New York and have horny bitches following me like the Pied Fucking Piper. Trust me, I’d done it many times back in L.A.

  I’d even had multiple bitches at once more times than I could count. One fuck-fest in particular stood out in my mind. I couldn’t even recall their names because I was also a little fucked up at the time. It doesn’t even matter since they were just two random models who were in California for a photo shoot. They were sent to me for a quick workout before the shoot. They got one all right.

  In no time, I had them right where I wanted them and they were eager to please. Being new to California, they trusted and relied on every word that came from my mouth that day. I could have lied my brains out, but I didn’t. I kept it real. It’s crazy how a few sexually-implied, sarcastic comments lead to dripping pussy’s craving to be fondled, fucked and eaten. Is this a great country or what?

  To be completely fair, they came onto me first and I didn’t resist. One right after the other, I fucked them both that day. In and out of one pussy, then slamming my cock directly into the next. It was like a fucking assembly line of pussy. I had them bent over my bed with their legs spread for three fucking hours straight!

  I drilled my cock into their pussies and even pulled out a few sex toys I kept on hand for special occasions. They took everything I gave them and begged for more, even right down to the nipple clamps and Benwa balls. I got hard watching the sweet pain on their faces as I clamped their throbbing, perky nipples with the clamps. We played a game of sexual chicken, doing wild and crazy shit to one another until someone screamed STOP!

  Either they didn’t want to be the first to yell stop, or like me, they just enjoyed the pain. Either way, they kept spreading their legs and begging for more.

  We went at it with such force I was sore for days. I let each one orgasm in my mouth after an hour of rough foreplay. After the first orgasm, they thought I was done, that the sex was over. Rookies! I was just getting started.

  I left the clamps on their nipples and handcuffed them to the pull-up bar on my wall. They grinned, smiled and squealed with delight once both their hands were held securely above their heads. I got the impression this was not their first time at S&M.

  I got down on my knees and sucked one of their clits until she orgasmed. Then, I moved over to the next pussy and did the same thing. I repeated this for two more orgasms each. They were squealing like little kids on a rollercoaster ride.

  I grabbed the thigh bar I kept under my bed and tied it to the one girl’s ankles to keep her legs spread. I added some weights to her nipple clamps and watched her moan in ecstasy. I asked her if she wanted me to stop. She said, “No fucking way!” Chastised, I kept going.

  I grabbed two more clamps and knelt before her exposed pussy. I clamped those two clamps on each labia and attached the chain to both nipple weights. This kept her pussy wide open for me and, I had to say, it was all I could do not to shoot my load just watching her squirm. Every move made the weights pull her nipples. I watched her struggle to stay still as I played with her clit. She moaned with delight.

  I grabbed a handful of anal beads and squirted some lube on them. I could see the wanting look in the other girl’s eyes who watched as I played around with her friend.

  “Fuck me, too,” she whined. “I want beads in my ass, too.”

  It was hard not to fuck them both right there. God knows I wanted to, but I wasn’t ready to end playtime just yet. I just let my cock bounce and rub against their clits as I continued playing in the taller girl’s ass. She knew what was coming. She didn’t object as I slowly inserted a few beads into her ass. I licked her clit as they slid inside her. She moaned and wiggled her cunt against my face.

  I was sure this was far more than what they expected the evening was going to be. Hell, it was more than I expected. However, they were in my world now and I was the one in control. I doled out the pleasure and pain. I said who could cum and when. They didn’t seem to mind. They just kept moaning and egging me on.

  After I had all but a few beads in her ass, I licked her clit and slowly pulled out all the beads one by one. She moaned and gushed hot juices all over my face.

  As soon as her orgasm was done, I stood up, removed one nipple clamp, sucking her nipple after I removed it. Again, she screamed with pleasure. I did the same to the next nipple. I slid my hand down to her sopping cunt and shoved two fingers inside her and started fingering her hard. With three fingers hammering into her, I pressed my thumb to her clit and forced another orgasm. After that, she was spent. I removed all the clamps and released her wrists. She lay peacefully on the bed and watched me give her friend the same pain and pleasures I’d given her.

  We ended the night with me flat on my back and my big cock sticking up like a flagpole. They were both working my cock, pumping the long shaft, taking turns licking and sucking the head, kneading and sucking my balls, probing my tight asshole with their tongues and fingers. When I told them to watch me pop, they clenched their hands around the shaft and milked me like a machine. I shot hot ropes of milky cum three feet into the air. It splashed down over their hands onto my stomach and balls. The girls squealed and lapped it up like hungry kittens around a bowl of milk.

  Yeah, bitches, good times…


  I leaned against the railing and closed my eyes to breath in the warm night air. Yes, a nice woman to share this lovely rooftop terrace would be nice. Hell, it would be a perfect place to have some nice open-air sex. It was private, secluded, nice padded furniture, maybe drag a mattress out here, maybe just whip out my cock and jerk off into the night...

  My cellphone ringing jarred me from my fantasy. I tugged the phone from my back pocket and saw Martin’s image on the screen. I slid to answer the call on speaker.

  I leaned my elbows on the rail and said, “Hey, Martin.”

  “I assume you got all checked in,” he said. “Need anything else? Is the place stocked with everything you need?”

  “It’s stocked to perfection Martin,” I said with a sigh. “I appreciate you spending my money on such lavish digs, but you didn’t have to book the penthouse. I can sleep anywhere you know.”

  “Yeah, right, like you’d be fine at Motel 6.”

  “Well, maybe not that,” I said.

  “Look, you just enjoy it and rest up so you kick ass on Good Morning Manhattan on Monday. I can’t be there, but I’ll be watching you online!”

  “Okay, I’ll try not to fuck it up,” I said. The truth was, I’d been on TV more times than I could count. This should be a walk in the park.

  I hung up with Martin and walked into the bedroom. I started to get undressed for bed, then realized I was too keyed up to sleep. And after thinking about the S&M session with the models, more than a little horny.

  I made sure I had my cellphone and room key in my back pocket, then rode the private elevator down to the lobby bar. If I struck out there, I would pay a little visit to the sweet young thing who was still smiling at me from behind the front desk.

  CHAPTER FIVE: Zoe

  Mark’s voice was cold as ice when he answered the phone. It sent a chill down my spine when he said, “What?”