Snowed In with the Billionaire

by Lila Monroe

  “Tiny understatement. Actually, massive understatement. It’s an understatement so massive it sucks in all surrounding matter, condensing it into nothingness.”

  “A black hole understatement,” he says. God, he understands my astrophysics analogies. Even underwater, my panties are on fire.

  “What about you? This probably isn’t how you thought you’d spend your party.”

  “No. But I hoped for it.” His dark eyes have that relaxed-but-intense glint again. “Ever since I found out you were the one who called me a douchebro.”

  I flush. “So many other words I could’ve used. My vocabulary is better than that.” My heart’s pounding so hard I can barely hear myself speak. He hoped for it?

  “I like complexity. You seem like one person—the good girl, the one who’s got everything planned—but then this other wild, more spontaneous person comes out. As soon as I got a glimpse of her, I wanted to know that girl.”

  His eyes search mine. He’s waiting for me to say something. Give him some signal. My heart pounds faster as my muscles relax. My shoulders loosen. I breathe deeply, the rise and fall of my chest attracting Ace’s attention. He looks mesmerized. I sink a bit further into the water, the steam heating my cheeks. I feel dizzy. Ace looks about ready to come over—

  “I think we need to cool things down,” I say, breathless, wishing I could take the words back even as they tumble out of my mouth. That little devil on my shoulder raises an angry fist at my wimpiness. Ace just laughs.

  “How? We’re in a hot tub.” He winks at me. “You need to relax, party planner.”

  Relax and I don’t have much in common. We tried going together about five years ago, and I kept annoying Relax with my general attitude. He hasn’t called since, though I still text him on his birthday.

  “I play by the rules. I always have.” That’s what my brain keeps trying to tell me. But my body’s only responding to the hot water and the look in Ace’s eyes.

  “Why not try breaking them for a change?” His voice drops lower. Slowly, he moves across the hot tub until he’s standing right in front of me, water trailing in rivulets down his body.

  “I think I have already.” My voice is soft, but I’m not afraid. “I’m naked with my boss in a hot tub. And it’s a hot tub west of the Mississippi, to top it all off. That’s a lot of rule bending for me.”

  “Well, you’re not naked. Yet.” He says. He takes my hand and helps me to my feet, so we’re waist deep in the water. Trailing his hand along my back, he fingers the clasp of my bra. My breath catches in my throat. “Do you need some help with that?”

  “No,” I say, lightly pushing him off. He takes a step back, but that smoldering look in his eyes remains. My pulse is pounding. This is it; I have to make a choice.

  And I do.

  “I don’t need any help.” Slowly, I pull my hair out of its bun. It tumbles down around my shoulders, half curtaining my face. My eyes stay locked to his as I reach around and unclasp my bra. It takes a couple of tries, since my fingers are trembling with the cold, but I manage. His breath is a hissed intake as I take the bra off and toss it over the side of the tub. The air is a bite against my skin, but I don’t even feel it. “Is this loosened up enough?”

  “Yes,” he growls. Then he lunges, pulls me against his body, and kisses me.

  His lips are soft, and his stubble rasps against my cheek. It’s such a strange combination that I gasp. But I give in to the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck. He smells like snow and tastes like wine. I groan against his mouth, and we sink back into the water, his hands cupping my breasts.

  “Isn’t this against the rules?” he whispers as he leans down and takes my right breast in his mouth, licking my nipple until it’s hard. I bite my lip.

  “Rules aren’t everything,” I murmur. Ace pulls me against him, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I can feel his rising hard-on flush against my thigh. As his tongue moves deeper into my mouth, stroking against mine, I can’t help grinding my hips into his. Rules? Did somebody say something about rules? What are these rules you speak of? Nope, no rules here. No comprende. These are not the rules you’re looking for.

  “One piece off. One left,” he says, still kissing me as he slides a hand down the front of my panties. My breath catches in my throat, but I don’t want him to stop. His finger traces my clit in slow, maddening circles, drawing a pulse of pure heat straight to my core. I let out a low moan. This is insane. He’s my boss. This is beyond the boundary of any professional relationship that doesn’t start with a 900 area code.

  But as Ally would say, fuck the fucking rules.

  I sigh as he removes his hand and kisses me more aggressively, pressing me firmly into the side of the tub, his body lean and hard against mine. I’m getting lightheaded, from the kiss or the hot water or both, but I don’t care. I’m lost in his mouth, the heat between us, the feel of his muscled torso beneath my palms. I don’t ever want this to stop. But I find myself shivering against him, the cold air working its way into the damp nape of my neck, chilling my ears and the smooth skin of Ace’s back under my hands. Abruptly, he pulls away.

  “We should get you inside.” He lifts me out of the water and takes me across the snowy yard, back into the house. Guess I’ll need to get my bra in the morning.

  But right now, the morning doesn’t exist. He carries me, dripping, through the hall and up the stairs. I’m clinging to him with my face buried in his shoulder, my heart pounding fit to burst out of my chest. I should probably be thinking this through, but right now the only thought on my mind is tearing off his underwear with my teeth and finding out what he tastes like.

  A minute later, we’re in his bedroom. The bed is massive, king-sized with a black silk comforter. He lays me out on it and peels off my panties, then removes his own boxers. I’ve seen a few hard ons in my life, but this one needs a special mention in the Guinness book of world records. The Greatest Erect Cock Belonging To Any Boss Ever.

  Ace gets on the bed and kisses me, running his hands over my breasts, my body. He nips at my neck, trailing kisses down the center of my chest before pausing to lick and suck at my nipples until they’re rock hard and tingling, aching with a relentless need that shoots straight to my clit. As I groan, he lavishes attention on my breasts, his mouth hot against me. His kisses trail down my body again, down past my stomach, and I spread my legs open for him as my belly tightens in anticipation.

  Ace places his hot palm flat against my pussy and presses just enough to make me gasp. He looks up, that mischievous light in his eyes.

  “Say please.”

  I huff a sigh and then obey. “Please.”

  “Please what?” he teases. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Paige.”

  My heart is slamming in my chest, my clit is throbbing. If he wants me to beg, I’ll beg. “I want you to lick me. Suck me. Fuck me with your tongue. Hard. Please.” I flush at my words, but I’m not embarrassed, just more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. It might sound like begging, but it’s also a list of commands—and I can tell by the look on Ace Carmichael’s ruggedly handsome face that I’m about to get exactly what I want. All I can think about his how bad I need this, how bad I need him.

  Slowly, he lowers his head. He kisses and licks me in one sweet, clear line. His tongue flicks against my clit, once, twice, before plunging straight into me. I press myself back against the bed, grabbing fistfuls of the covers as I moan. His hands hold my hips in place while his tongue slides back and forth against my clit, dipping in and out of my cunt, then making his way back up, excruciatingly slow and delicious. I arch my back as he grabs my legs and pulls me even closer, spreading my thighs apart even wider.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp. It’s not that I’ve never had a man’s mouth on me before. It’s that it’s never been like this. I’m so dizzy with desire and lust, it feels like I’m losing my mind. My whole body trembles under Ace’s every lick and touch. I’m getting closer to the edge, but I can’t
relax and let go, even as I start subconsciously rocking my hips along with the rhythm of the firm, deep strokes Ace is tonguing me with.

  Suddenly he puts one, then two fingers into me, curling them against my sweet spot and sliding them back and forth. I’m tight and wet and I know it, but the groan Ace gives from between my thighs makes me tense with increasingly desperate need.

  “Ace,” I moan, fisting his dark hair, rocking against his mouth.

  “You like that?” he pants.

  “Yes. Please. Give me more.”

  He does. His tongue continues to work my clit, hard and then soft, fast and then faster, and then without warning he draws it into his mouth and sucks and sucks, his fingers grinding into me with a strong, steady beat matched by my own speeding thrusts. I can’t believe I thought this was a bad idea. This is the best idea I’ve ever had.

  “Oh my God,” I whimper as my blood turns to fire. “Ace, God, so good.”

  “Mmm,” he moans, the deep rumble of his mouth vibrating against me.

  Holy fuck.

  That’s the moment of release, and I cry out as I come, the orgasm slamming into me, crashing through my body so hard I see bursts of light behind my eyes. It lasts longer than any I’ve known before, leaving me so weak with release that I collapse against the pillows, gasping for breath. Ace pulls himself up beside me, propped up on one arm and looking down at me with an I-done-good grin.

  “Was that in the fine print too?” I ask. I feel as if I’ve melted into the bed.

  “I like to think of it as a holiday bonus,” he says, and kisses me.

  I have every intention of returning the favor, just as soon as I’m done resting my eyes for a few blissful minutes. I curl my body into his and before I know it, I’m out like a light. A light that’s wrapped in silk sheets, snuggled against a set of blazing-hot abs, and breathing slowly and quietly against the steadily beating heart of one Ace Carmichael.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, I wake up to find Ace stretched out beside me, his hair ruffled up as he snores softly. I should be horrified, snatching up bits of my still-damp underwear and rushing back to the guest room to shower off my shame and yell at myself for being so reckless, but I’m too blissed out to manage that much activity. Studying him is fascinating. I don’t mean to sound like a creepy stalker—I swear I don’t make a habit of watching people while they sleep, I’m not some Mormon vampire—but he’s mesmerizing. The stubble, the scruffy hair, the tattoos, they all make him look like a bad boy. But his mouth is so lush, and his tongue is…well, you can’t see it, but it’s a delicate instrument.

  I don’t do this, ever. I have a four-date minimum before sleeping with a guy, five if he doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents. When I was in college, my roommates would come back to the dorm crowing about the wild nights they’d had. I never judged them for it, but I didn’t think it was my speed.

  Apparently my speed is speedier than I thought. If it were a bus, it couldn’t drive under sixty miles an hour without a bomb going off. My speed stars pre-whoa Keanu Reeves.

  I want to brush a lock of Ace’s hair out of his eyes. He’s such a complete study in contrasts. He walks around all casual and cool, no shirt on while getting coffee, the relaxed musician. But then he gets so intense when he’s at work, focusing on problems. And when that focus is on me, well…

  He said I was the same way: two different people at home in the same skin. Maybe that makes us a little bit alike. Or maybe I’m just looking for something that explains how completely out of order last night was.

  But a good out of order. The kind of out of order with a big red sign you hang on a door with pride.

  Ace groans, stretches, and opens his eyes. For a minute, I’m nervous. What if he turns cold? What if last night was a massive mistake, brought on by too much wine and the high of bowling forfeits and a very close brush with frostbite?

  What I see when his gaze locks onto mine, though, is a man who looks happy, albeit a scruffy kind of happy. “This is a good way to start the day,” he says, his voice still scratchy with sleep.

  “In your own bed, you mean?”

  “Staring at something beautiful. It gets me in the mood to be creative.” He pulls me against him.

  “It gets me in the mood for a scavenger hunt,” I say. His surprised expression makes me smile. “We scattered our clothes all over the yard. Hopefully, some adventurous deer and squirrels haven’t stolen them.”

  “Cross-dressing woodland bastards,” he says, rolling me over and landing on top, the delicious weight of his body making my pulse rev. “But a naked scavenger hunt sounds fun. The rule is you wear whatever clothing you find, no matter whose they are.”

  “So if you find my bra first?” I ask, quirking a brow.

  “I’ve heard they give great support,” he says, voice deadpan. I can’t help dissolving into a giggling fit. He kisses my neck, his stubble still scratchy. But I think I like scratchy.

  I feel his cock growing hard against me. Good morning to us both. Which reminds me…

  “We should get breakfast at some point,” I say, kissing him. He thinks about this.

  “At some point. Yes.” Our kiss deepens, and his tongue flicks inside my mouth. As things heat up, I let myself go. Like we both said at dinner, we’re not relationship material right now. If this is a mistake, it’s one I’ve already made. And it’s a very sexy one.

  “You know,” I say, pulling back, “I never thanked you properly for last night.” I trail my fingers down his chest and stomach, and he groans in appreciation as my hand circles his length and gives it a firm squeeze. I kiss and lick my way down his body, waiting to take him into my mouth…

  And just like that, his cell phone rings. Ace groans and lets out a soft swear as he grabs the call. “Shit. James. I completely forgot. What time is it?” I sit up as Ace looks at his bedside clock. “Fuck. I, uh, got distracted. Yeah, the meeting is still on. Let’s talk about this album.” He looks at me, lust and disappointment and apology blended in his gaze. “Rain check?” he mouths.

  I sigh and nod. A definite rain check.

  When Ace’s call finally wraps up, it’s noon. But the sun is shining, and the snow’s stopped. We check, but nope—all planes are still grounded, and nothing is coming in.

  “Serves me right for trying to have a holiday party in December,” he says, hanging up the phone. “Next year, Christmas in August. Nothing says winter cheer like sunbathing.”

  “No one can get in?” I ask, trying to sound at least a little disappointed.

  “Unless they want to hire a team of really adorable sled dogs, not happening.” He shrugs, mock-innocently. “So I guess it’s just the two of us. Stuck here. All alone.”

  Every muscle in my body seems to relax. Is this the way Ace feels all the time? No wonder he can stay so calm. Actually, it’s a wonder he can stay vertical.

  “Breakfast for lunch?” I ask, getting out the pan and pulling a carton of eggs from the fridge. Ace shoots me a grin.

  “I hear they have this wild new name to describe just that. I believe it’s called break-unch. Some say we need to shorten it, but I think it has a certain ring.”

  “Your mockery will be met with orange juice that has absolutely no champagne in it,” I say, primly cracking an egg into a bowl. Ace catches me around the waist and lifts me into the air. He only puts me down when I promise to put champagne in everything.

  While I make the coffee, I look over at him. He’s seated at the island on a bar stool, watching me. Half the time I want to joke around with him, the other half I imagine running up to him, ripping his shirt off, and letting the eggs burn. I’ve never felt this comfortable with anyone who I’m also this attracted to. It’s a strange experience.

  After breakfast, Ace insists on doing the dishes. Loading them into the washer, he glances out the window at the sparkling snow that clearly is going nowhere fast.

  “I’m tired of being cooped up,” he says. “Cabin fev
er is setting in.”

  “You promised it wouldn’t be like The Shining.”

  “Oh, it won’t. There’s no cute, creepy psychic five year old boy to save you now. Our only hope is to get outside, into the fresh air.” His eyes are sparkling, and I can only imagine the snowball fights he must be plotting.

  “Is it, now?” I ask, wary.

  “It is. Go upstairs and get dressed. I’ve got a surprise.”

  Ten minutes later, we’re in the basement garage. Ace hits a button, and the door rumbles open, the sudden influx of sunlight revealing two snowmobiles sitting there, ready and waiting. I don’t know anything about snowmobiles—Mom always said they were winter transportation for lesbians—but I know these look sleek and fast. Ace goes to the red-and-black one and pats the seat.

  “Polaris, the 2016 model. Catch.” He tosses me a key.

  Oh no. I would do anything for love (or lust), but I won’t drive a snowmobile solo. Meatloaf would’ve approved of that lyric tweak.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea. The closest I’ve gotten to wild machinery is the golf cart at my Dad’s country club. And even that was a disaster.”

  “I’m sure it was a golf cart that strikes fear into the hearts of many,” Ace says, walking over and zipping my North Face up to the neck. It’s even sexy when he puts my clothes on. “Get on, Bartlett. You ride with me.”

  I can’t argue with that. I hop on and hug Ace tight around the waist as we burst out of the garage and down the hill. My breath clouds in the air. The world around us lies blanketed under a thick layer of snow. It’s pristine and perfect, sparkling in the afternoon light. Pine trees throw long, blue shadows across the mountainside. We make a turn, sending up a curtain of powder. We’re the only ones out right now. The Polaris’s roaring engine is muffled as we ride up the side of a hill, stopping at the top. I slip off, and I’m ankle-deep in snow.

  “Like it?” Ace asks, one foot propped on the snowmobile’s seat. He’s watching me, looking pleased. I’m almost dancing around. I’ve never seen snow like this before. It’s making me giddy. It’s like really cold marshmallow fluff. I think I’m understanding the phrase ‘Winter Wonderland’ for the first time in my life, and it is magnificent.