A Down and Dirty Christmas: Spend Christmas on the Naughty List

by Valente, Lili

  The thought makes my flagging erection thicken, sending a flash of discomfort pulsing through my already unhappy balls.

  But blue balls never killed anyone. It’s more important that I take care of Jane and make sure her first experience as a submissive is a positive one. If we don’t have sex tonight, so be it. I’ll live, no matter how desperate I am to have her.

  One taste of topping Jane, and I’m hooked. She was so sexy, so wide open and fearless with that “anything you want, sir” look in her big brown eyes as she stroked my cock through my pants…

  I curse softly beneath my breath. One night with her isn’t going to be enough.

  But if that’s all she’s up for, I intend to make extricating herself from this situation as easy as possible for her. If she’s tying herself in knots because I made the mistake of saying we should have been doing this for years—inferring that we should keep sex games on the table moving forward—then I’ll make it clear that how far this goes is completely up to her.

  I want her, but if she doesn’t want me, well…I’m a grown man, who’s shouldered his fair share of disappointment.

  I’ve been estranged from my family since I fled the hills of Virginia and headed to MIT on a full scholarship, leaving my bigoted bully of a father and my even more dangerous aunts and uncles behind to rot. I left my rage and resentment behind with them, determined not to poison my future by dwelling on the ugliness of the past.

  But my childhood left it’s mark, as childhoods tend to do. My family taught me that there are very few people in the world who are worthy of my trust. I have a handful of relationships that are precious to me, but my funeral will be…sparsely attended. I’m not in the business of letting my walls down for everyone who passes through my life. I am good to my employees and generous with my wealth, but there are only a few people I truly call friends.

  Jane is one of them.

  And that’s why I will do whatever it takes to put the smile back on her face, even if it means letting go of the dream that’s been knocking around inside me, trying to find a place to settle in and stay a while. The dream of Jane completely at my mercy, in my hands, kneeling at my feet as I lavish her with all the Domination and devotion she deserves.

  I know I can take her to the places she wants to go, be the kind of man she needs, if she’ll only let me. But if she’s too scared, or not ready, or fears this would put our professional relationship at risk, then I will let her go.

  Because I love her.

  I’ve known for years that what I feel for Jane goes beyond friendship or professional admiration, but it’s only now that I’ve come so close to making her mine that I realize how deep the roots of this longing go. They are sunk down deep, tangled in the heart of me, stretching all the way back to the moment I ended things with Veronica because I couldn’t stop thinking about Jane—admiring the graceful curve of her neck as she bent to take notes, hanging on her every thoughtful word, living for those moments when I made her laugh and her eyes lit up just for me.

  “Fool,” I mutter, hands fisting atop the counter on either side of the tray.

  I’ve been a fool to let this go on for so long, thinking I could control myself, thinking I could ignore the irresistible pull I feel and keep things business as usual.

  And I’ll be an even bigger fool if I let Jane push me away without fighting for her. I would never abuse my power over a sub or an employee, but that doesn’t mean I can’t kiss Jane until she’s weak in the knees and tell her that I want more than tonight. That I want her. All of her. I want her from the moment she wakes up in the morning to the moment she crawls into bed at night, so tired she can barely move because I’ve given her pleasure and pain, my heart, my hands, and anything else she needs.

  I want to give Jane the world, but I’m going to start with giving her the truth.

  Fuck keeping things light. Fuck making things easy for either one of us. Growing up the way I did, with a family who gave new meaning to the word chaos, has given me an almost holy reverence for order and tranquility, but Jane is worth disturbing the peace. I will turn my life upside down, shake out the contents, and start from scratch if that’s what it takes to make her mine.

  Mind made up, I leave the tray on the counter and move swiftly out of the break room and down the hall toward my office.

  But there’s something different in the air, a deeper chill, an absence of light that has nothing to do with the loss of electricity. It’s the loss of something much more precious. I know the truth even before I search my office, the restrooms, and the darkened foyer where the company logo on the wall is barely visible in the dim light.

  Jane is gone.

  Chapter Eight

  Jane

  I hurry along the deserted sidewalk, squinting into the mad swirl of snow that whips my face, stumbling through drifts that are up past my ankles. Hot tears flow down my cheeks, but by the time the drops have rolled down to my chin, they’re ice cold. It isn’t long before my cheeks begin to burn.

  I’m probably going to end up with frostbite. The doctors will have to carve away little pieces of my cheeks to save the healthy skin and from now on every time I look in the mirror I will be reminded of how stupid I am.

  Stupid for walking home in a blizzard, stupid for crying while I did it, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

  I pause at the end of the block, searching for signs of life, but there isn’t a soul out in this mess, or a yellow cab in sight. The only real light comes from the windows of a four-story brownstone that must be running on a generator. The rest of the world is shadowed, illuminated only by the glow of freshly fallen snow. I should admit defeat, go back to the office, and get warm before it’s too late, but instead I hug my arms more tightly around my shivering body and cross the street.

  I can’t go back. I can’t face Ten. Not now, not ever.

  Sometime during my flight down the stairs and out into the night, my shame crawled into a chrysalis, metamorphosed, and emerged as a spastic butterfly of acute, irrational fear. On some level, I realize that being terrified of facing Ten with the memories of tonight living between us is ridiculous to the point of lunacy, but I can’t seem to help myself. I will walk five miles in the snow to get home before I will turn this ship around, even if it means losing a toe or a morsel of cheek or anything else.

  I move farther down the block, stopping seconds before I step onto a sheet of solid ice. I see the source—a hose burst outside a darkened flower shop, sending a steady stream of liquid dribbling across the sidewalk toward the street—and realize I’ll have to retrace my steps. Or jaywalk across Eighth Avenue to the other side. I’m usually too much of a rule follower, and too afraid of NYC traffic, to risk an illegal crossing, but the street is empty and I’ve already ventured way out of my comfort zone tonight.

  Might as well dance a few inches closer to the edge of the cliff.

  I turn, searching for the least snow-filled path between the cars parked along the street. But before I can make a move toward the curb, a deep voice shatters the stillness of the night.

  “Stay right there, Jane.”

  I spin, catching sight of Ten moving swiftly down the sidewalk toward me. He’s still wearing just his dress shirt, but he doesn’t look cold. He looks strong, powerful, and pissed.

  I realize I’ve never seen Ten looking quite this angry, and instinctively I step back. From there it only takes a split second for everything to go to hell. The heel of my shoe skids on the ice and my right leg slides out from under me. I pinwheel my arms, fighting to regain my balance, but it’s too late.

  I’m going down hard, already bracing for the impact with the cold ground, when Ten snatches me out of the air. His arm circles my waist, pulling me against him, pinning my body to his. Immediately, electricity leaps between us, and the irrational fear of getting caught fades away, banished by a rush of relief to be back in Ten’s arms.

  “We’re going inside,” he says in a tight voice. “Now. Before you do damage to
yourself.”

  My lips part to say something—to offer an apology or an excuse—but before I can speak, Ten has lifted me, flipped me over his shoulder, and started back toward the office. My breath gusts out as I realize that my boss is treating me like a body pillow he picked up at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. In public, this time.

  “I can walk,” I say, cheeks flaming as Ten steps off the curb, crossing the street.

  “Quiet, Jane.” He doesn’t slow his pace for a moment.

  “Put me down,” I insist, bracing my hands at the small of his back, right above the firm muscles of his ass. “I don’t—” My protest ends in a startled cry as Ten slaps my bottom, sending a sting of pain across the already tender flesh.

  Pain that is quickly followed by a wisp of arousal. It rises inside me like the lazy smoke from an incense stick, thick and sultry and unconcerned with anything but burning.

  “You’re risking a broken neck walking through the snow and ice in those heels,” he says, quickening his pace. “I will put you down once we’re safely inside. And then I will do my best to resist the urge to turn you over my knee again.”

  I bite my lip and close my eyes, his words warming every inch of my chilled skin. The newly awakened, hungry-for-submission part of me thinks being back on Ten’s lap, with my ass bare and nothing in my mind but pleasure and obedience, sounds fantastic.

  But I know Ten isn’t going to let me off that easy. He’s going to want to know why I ran, and he won’t let me go until I tell him.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper as he punches in the code to the security system and crosses the downstairs lobby to the staircase.

  “I’m not the one you owe an apology,” he says as the stairwell door shuts, plunging us into darkness. A moment later he sets me on my feet, his hands coming to cup my cold, damp cheeks. “I insist that you take better care of yourself, Jane. Going out into the storm was dangerous. You could have been seriously hurt. Or worse.”

  I blink against sudden pressure at the backs of my eyes, struggling to make out his expression. But he’s just a tall, smudged silhouette, a deep voice in the dark, which makes it easier to confess, “I know. I knew it was stupid, I just… I was afraid to stay.”

  “What were you afraid of?” he asks softly, his palms still gentle on either side of my face. “Of me? Were you afraid I would hurt you?”

  “No, of course not,” I say quickly, hating that he might have thought that, even for a moment. I cover his hands with mine, pressing him closer. “No, I know you would never hurt me. At least not like that, not physically. I just…” I pull in a breath, willing myself to be brave, letting the darkness fuel my courage. Some things are easier to say in the shadows, without the bright light of day illuminating how far there is to fall if the walk across the tightrope doesn’t work out. “I shouldn’t have accepted your offer to teach me. It was wrong.”

  “It didn’t feel wrong to me.” His voice is carefully neutral, offering no clue what he’s really feeling.

  But then, I suppose that doesn’t matter. I can’t worry about pleasing Ten right now. Whether he likes it or not, whether he wants more from me than a night or a casual fling, my truth is still my truth.

  And the truth is…

  “I should have known better,” I whisper, “than to think I could be happy with one night. I don’t want one night, sir.” The use of the honorific makes me shiver, and longing swell in my chest. “I want more. I’ve wanted more for a long time.”

  His fingertips press tighter into my jaw as he sighs, and my heart plummets.

  I’m certain he’s going to let me down easy—being careful with me, the way he always has been, even when he was punishing me—but instead he kisses me. He kisses me slow and deep, each stroke of his tongue against mine sending a wave of sweet relief rushing through my veins.

  He kisses me until my knees are weak and my skin is hot and my breath is coming fast and all I want is to pull him down to the floor, to feel him on top of me, his comforting weight pinning me down, assuring me he’s never going to let me go. When he draws away I moan in protest, a sound that ends in a sharp gasp as he fists his hand in the hair at the base of my neck and tugs my head back.

  A second later his lips are moving against my throat. “I want more, too. I want all of you, Jane, but right now I just want to fuck you. I want it so badly I don’t know if I can wait.”

  I sob, a primal sound of happiness and relief. “Yes. I want that, too, sir.”

  “No, sir,” he says. “Not right now. This isn’t play. This is you and me, Jane. This is me showing you how much I need you, more than I need anything.”

  Before I can reply, he’s jerked my skirt up around my hips and put his hand down the front of my panties.

  Chapter Nine

  Jane

  Ten’s fingers find where I’m hot and wet and shove in and up, penetrating me deep, making me cry out into his mouth as his lips cover mine. His tongue plunders my mouth as he fucks me with his hand, and in seconds I’m close—so close I have to fight to keep from tumbling over.

  I don’t want to go, not yet, not from his fingers.

  I reach down, fumbling between us, finding the button to his fly and slipping it through the hole, sliding my hand inside his pants, curling my fingers around the heavy ridge of his erection through his boxers. “I want you inside me.”

  “Not here. Upstairs.” He draws his fingers from between my legs and takes my hand. We start up, but only make it to the first landing before Ten hauls me back to him, claiming my mouth for another deep kiss as his fingers pinch my nipple through my shirt. “I can’t wait to get my mouth on your breasts again,” he says between kisses. “I love watching you squirm, knowing I’m driving you out of your mind, making you want me.”

  “I want you so much,” I pant. “I can’t wait. Take me now. Take me right here.”

  “I’m not fucking you for the first time in a stairwell.” He half carries me up the steps as we continue to kiss and his magical hands find a way to be everywhere at once. “I need to see your face. I need to look into your eyes when I finally get my cock in you, Jane. I’ve been dreaming about it for too long to take you in the dark.”

  I shudder against him. “I’ve been dreaming about you, too. This whole night feels like a dream.”

  “It’s not, beautiful,” he assures me as we continue to stumble-kiss-fondle our way up the stairs. “Which is another reason why we need to get back to the office, where I have condoms.”

  “I’m clean,” I assure him. “I was tested.”

  “I’m clean, too, but I’m not a fan of accidents in any area of my life. When I fuck a baby into you, it will be because we’re ready and it’s what we both want.”

  I tense in his arms, certain I must have misheard him.

  “I said I want everything. All of you,” he says softly, hands finding my ass and squeezing none too gently. “I know it’s too soon to say how this will work out, or if it will, but I want the future on the table. At least give me a chance to win it all.”

  I nod in the dark, then remember that he can’t see me and say, “Yes. I want the future on the table, too. Though I still can’t quite believe this is happening.” I cling tighter to his shoulders as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me up the last flight of stairs.

  “Then we’ll have to do something to make you a believer.” He opens the door, guiding me into the Intrepid Industries foyer where the heat from the fire has taken the bite out of the air. As soon as the door shuts behind me, he pushes my coat off my shoulders. I leave it abandoned on the floor as he pulls me into his arms and backs us both toward his office. “What do you want, sweet Jane? What can I do to make this real for you?”

  I press a hand to his chest where I can feel his heart beating fast, tapping hard against his ribs because he wants this, wants me. All of me. He wants my body and my trust and a chance at happily ever after, which must mean…

  “Tell me the truth.” I hold his gaze in the candlel
ight as he closes the office door and turns the lock, even though there’s no one here but us. But I like that he’s not taking any chances that we might be interrupted, that he wants me all to himself. “How long have you wanted more?”

  “Years,” he says without hesitation. “But I convinced myself it wouldn’t work. That you were too innocent, too good for me.”

  My brow furrows even as butterflies take flight in my chest. “That is the silliest, sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Don’t you realize you’re the best person I know?”

  His gaze softens. “I doubt that, but I’ll make whatever changes have to be made to keep you with me, Singleton. Even if that means letting go of the game. I can live without the game. I’m not so sure about you. When I thought you were out in that blizzard getting yourself killed…”

  I brush his hair from his forehead, tenderness and arousal pulsing through me in equal measure as he cups my breast through my shirt, brushing his thumb across my tight nipple. “You don’t have to let go of anything. I love the game…almost as much as I love you.”

  His fingers dig into my ribs as doubt, then hope, flickers in his eyes.

  “I do,” I say, answering his unspoken question. “That’s why I ran. Because I was scared you didn’t feel the same way, not because I didn’t love everything you did to me. Everything you do to me.”

  “I love you, too, but are you sure?” His free hand grips my ass, pulling me tighter to him, where I can feel him pulsing, hard and thick, through our clothes. “You can take your time to decide. I only want your submission if you need to give it to me, Jane.”

  “I need it.” I hold his gaze as I reach up, slipping open the top button on my blouse. “I need it so much.”

  He steps back, watching my fingers as I move on to the second button and then the third, the intensity of the hunger in his eyes making me feel more beautiful than I have in my entire life. I am beautiful, and I’m loved by the most amazing man I’ve ever met. There is nothing that can scare me now except the thought of not having him with me, topping me, completing me.