The Billionaire's Holiday Obsession

by Nadia Lee

  She gave him directions. “I need a large, handsome tree. It’s a big place.”

  “No problem. I can do it.”

  “Thank you…er…” She hesitated, embarrassed she couldn’t remember his name.

  “Diego. You are Jane, yes? You work hard. That work is not easy for a woman.” He gave her a bright grin.

  “Thank you, Diego. Just let me know how much it is, and I’ll pay you.”

  “No problem,” he repeated. “I’ll ask my cousin.”

  That taken care of, she grabbed her things and drove to Iain’s penthouse. He’d said he hadn’t bought a tree, and it seemed like the least she could do. She’d look for decorations in the storage room later.

  She slipped quietly into the dark penthouse. There was no sign of Iain—he was probably asleep in his room. Did he sleep naked? She shook herself mentally as her cheeks heated. Why was she even wondering? It wasn’t like she was going to go in there and jump him if he did.

  Jane went to her suite, dropped her stuff and slipped into the bathroom. While hot water sluiced down her body, she thought about what André had said. To cook and cook and never get to see anybody enjoy her food seemed both cruel and harsh. She tried to imagine how she would feel if all she heard were complaints when she messed up.

  She knew she would never be okay with that kind of situation. It’d too upsetting, and she’d probably end up hating the job.

  But if cooking was out, what else could she possibly do? She wanted something better for herself—something that could give her a happy life that came with a modest home of her own and financial security and inner satisfaction.

  She wrapped a towel around herself and went to the bedroom. Then stopped short at the sight of rose petals strewn all over her bed.

  “Hey.”

  She swiveled her head and saw Iain sitting in the armchair by the window. He was in the shadows, and she couldn’t see his face very well. Only his glittering eyes were vivid. “What are you doing here? I thought you were asleep.”

  He shook his head. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  Her gaze darted to her bed again. It wasn’t the housekeeping’s turndown service that had put the rose petals on her sheets. Her hold on the towel tightened. “Iain.”

  “No. Let me talk first.” He got up. “There are a lot of things I’ve done right with you, but there are also a lot of things I’ve done wrong.”

  He looked at her with an unreadable expression. It was always like that when he got serious. This was the real him—not the one that used smiles and easy shrugs and money to deflect the people around him.

  Quietly, she waited for him to reveal his true thoughts and feelings. If she interrupted now, he might never let her get this close to him again.

  “I wanted to apologize this morning, but then I got sidetracked.” He shook his head. “No. That’s not right. I don’t know how to say I’m sorry. I never had to say that to the women I’ve slept with. I should’ve made it good for you, but didn’t. I was too focused on me.”

  “Iain, it was…” Earth-shattering. Amazing. “…very nice,” she finally said, unsure if she should tell him the full truth. He already had so much power over her.

  He let out a harsh laugh. “Not exactly the most rousing endorsement I’ve ever gotten.” The laughter stopped as abruptly as it began. “Look, can we try again?”

  “Try again?” she squeaked, sleep forgotten.

  He stepped closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “And this time,” he whispered, his breath feathering the sensitive spot near her ear, “I’ll make it really good.”

  Liquid need pooled in her belly; she swayed forward. His big hands clasped around her waist, while his delicious mouth captured hers. He kissed her leisurely and sweetly; hot blood began to roar through her body. The damp towel felt abrasive and constricting, but she held onto it as she rose to her toes for closer contact with him.

  Without breaking the kiss, he put his hand over her fist and gently uncurled her fingers. The terrycloth fell to her feet, and she shivered as the cold air sent goosebumps up and down her body. Her nipples beaded, almost painfully so, but it also felt good. Iain’s silk shirt felt smooth and decadent against her bare skin, but she didn’t want him to remain fully clothed again.

  She pulled back. “Take off your clothes,” she said, her voice breathless. “I want to see you.”

  His gaze burned as he took in her nakedness. Normally she would’ve covered herself, but seeing his cock straining against the confines of his pants made her feel bold and sexy.

  He ripped the buttons from his shirt and tossed it on the floor like a rag. His pants and underwear received the same unceremonious treatment. Her breath caught. He was stunning, all lean muscles and power wrapped in taut skin. She’d seen him practice his martial arts moves in the morning and thought he was hot. But it was a whole ’nother level to have his intensity focused on her.

  It felt like a fantastically erotic dream. Because Jane Connolly from small town West Virginia wasn’t the type to attract a guy like Iain.

  Except he was definitely attracted. His cock was thick and long, and its head almost touched his belly.

  “Want me to turn around too?” Iain said with a thick voice half-filled with amusement and half-filled with something else.

  “If you like,” she said, her voice low and daring.

  An eyebrow quirked, he spread his arms to his sides and made a slow turn. Her knees grew weak at the sight of his magnificent backside. There was absolutely nothing less than perfect about this man. When he faced her again, he said, “Satisfied?”

  She nodded, clenching the slick flesh between her legs. She’d always thought she wasn’t very visual, but Iain taught her that wasn’t the case at all. She just hadn’t met the right man. Just watching him made her want to jump him.

  He came closer and cupped her face in his big hands, the gesture surprisingly gentle. Then he kissed her hard.

  She returned it with everything she had—all that need and longing. Her legs wrapped around him; he cupped her ass with one hand for support and used the other to explore her shapes and textures. She couldn’t draw in air—she was drowning in sensation. Iain seemed to be the sole focus of her being right now, and this was just a kiss.

  He carried her to the bed and laid her down, crushing the petals with their bodies. The sweet fragrance mixed with the heady scent of his hot male flesh. She thought she’d been turned on the night before. But it was nothing compared to this.

  Continuing the kiss, he cupped her breast, weighing the small mound and groaning with appreciation. She’d always thought they were small and not her best feature, but not now, not when he caressed with such reverence and desire. He tweaked her nipple, holding it between his callused fingers. Her back arched, and she cried out.

  He made a sound low in his throat, somewhere between a hum and a growl. “Already?” His gaze hot upon her, he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard. The edge of his teeth scraped her skin, and she held on to his head, moaning at the unbelievable sensation. There was tension coiling inside her, and she was so close, so close…

  Then there it was…his finger flickering over her drenched flesh between her thighs. She parted her legs wantonly, mindless with what he was making her feel. No other man had ever made her feel so desirable, and she couldn’t help but respond.

  He increased the suction of his mouth and ran the pad of his thumb along her clit, pushing her over the edge. She came, her back arching and hands clutching him. A conflagration swept through her from the top of her head all the way to the tips of her toes as her entire body throbbed and tingled.

  “You’re gorgeous when you come,” Iain said, his voice low and rough. “And I’m going to taste it.”

  He moved down her body, while she still shook from the aftershocks. “Iain, wait,” she panted, trying to raise her torso.

  “Just lie back and enjoy.” He gave her a cocky grin.

  Who was she to arg
ue? That orgasm had been amazing, but her body craved much more.

  He leaned closer and breathed in. “Mmm. Smells delicious too.”

  She felt her face heat, but that wasn’t the only place that grew hot. His breaths fanned against her sex, and she squirmed.

  He took firm hold and parted her legs even wider. And then he was licking her lightly, with small delicate flicks.

  Her pelvis shook with the effort not to push herself at his mouth. She twisted the sheet in her hands. He was killing her, driving her mad.

  “You taste amazing.” Iain hummed. “I could stay here forever.”

  “Iain,” she moaned, pushing herself at him.

  He cupped her butt, squeezing it in his strong hands while kissing her inner thighs. “It’s wet even here.”

  “Iain, please.”

  “Mm?” he murmured between more licks and kisses.

  “I…I want you to…” She raised herself on her elbows. “I…” She swallowed as she stared at his dark head between her legs.

  “What?”

  “I can’t say it.”

  “Darling, you have me in the most indecently intimate place imaginable, and you can’t say what you want me to do?” He laughed.

  She could feel herself blush.

  He licked her again, his eyes on hers. “You want me to eat your pussy, don’t you?”

  Oh my god. Now her whole body heated.

  “Baby, you can tell me what you want. I won’t judge. But until then…”

  He kissed her down there, licked her and tasted her, but she needed more. She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  He was going to make this so hard, but she was helpless to resist as he gave another long lick over her clit that sent another jolt of electric pleasure through her body. She kept her eyes closed. “I want you to…eat my pussy.”

  “Look at me when you tell me what you want, Jane.”

  God, he was killing her. She forced her eyes open and looked at him. Her mouth dried at the pure fire in his dark eyes. She’d thought this was some kind of sexual game to him, but it was more. She hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for her signal. “Yes, Iain,” she whispered. “I want you to eat my pussy.”

  He didn’t come up, but she could tell he was smiling. “Now watch.” He maintained eye contact as he devoured her.

  Jane couldn’t look away as sharp pleasure lashed through her. It was the most intimate thing she’d ever done—watching a man like this. Her body trembled as she drew in shuddering breaths. She tried to control the ball of aching pleasure growing bigger and bigger. She wanted to make the moment last.

  He pushed a finger into her. She cried out at the unexpected invasion, how it stretched her inner muscles. He added more until he had three thick fingers sliding in and out of her while his mouth sucked her clit. She gulped in air and clenched her body, trying to hold as Iain assaulted her senses.

  Finally she surrendered. A powerful orgasm ripped through her, and she felt like she was tossed in a tornado as she screamed out her pleasure. His hands linked with hers, and she tightened her fingers until they felt like they would break.

  When she could breathe again she blinked a few times. Iain was positioned over her, watching her. Desire carved stark lines along his jaw and eyes, and she traced them gently. “Wow,” she breathed.

  “I feel the same way,” he whispered, brushing the tip of his nose against hers.

  He was nestled between her legs, and his erection seemed to throb against her slick, swollen flesh. “Iain,” she whispered, curving a hand around his neck. Now it was easy to tell him. “Fuck me.”

  * * *

  He took her mouth in a drugging kiss as he pushed into her one inch at a time. She was so slick and ready it felt as natural as breathing.

  He moved slowly, rocking inside her with tight control, so close he didn’t want to end it too soon. He’d screwed up the night before. He wanted to make it amazing for Jane. Resting his weight on his elbows, he pulled back so he could watch her.

  Her expressive face registered surprise, then more languid pleasure as he kept up the tempo. It would be easy to love a woman like this. She was so sweet and shy, his pretty Jane.

  His control grew slippery, but he hung on to it. Sweat beaded on his skin, and the pleasure knotted his gut until it ached. But still he managed to hold on.

  “I don’t care what you do to give me orgasms,” she whispered. “Nothing compares to having you inside.”

  All his good intentions went out the window. He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he’d tried. With a sharp cry, he threw her legs over his shoulders and thrust into her hard, his strokes deeper and faster. Their flesh slapped together, and he realized she was right: nothing compared to being inside her. All other women paled in comparison, and he wanted to be like this forever—no words, just a hot, slick, physical connection. She made him feel like all the complications, all the messed up anger and pain and shame inside him would be okay, that she knew and accepted the real him, without judgment. As scary as that was, it was also liberating.

  Finally, Jane sobbed her climax, and only then did he fully let go. The pleasure felt like a freight train slamming into him. He could barely breathe from the impact.

  When his head cleared, he looked at her curled up against him and kissed her forehead gently. No other woman had affected him like this. He still couldn’t decide if it was good or bad, but he couldn’t let her go either. Once his legs didn’t feel like noodles anymore, he got up and disposed of the condom. On the way back he stood in the doorway, wavering. He should return to his room. He never spent an entire night with a woman. On the other hand he couldn’t bear to go to his cold and lonely bed.

  So he violated his rule and slipped back next to Jane. She murmured something that sounded sleepy and sweet and reached over with a hand. Linking their fingers, he gathered her in his arms and buried his face in her warm, soft hair.

  He hoped to hell this wasn’t going to be his undoing.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next morning, Jane got up alone. She frowned. Iain had spent the night with her…hadn’t he? She hadn’t imagined the solid masculine chest pressed against her back or the feel of his sweet breath on her neck.

  After she changed, she went outside and saw Iain sitting at the dining table. He was dressed in a casual shirt and loose-fitting pants. Her skin tingled as she recalled the things they’d done the night before.

  A big bag with a bakery logo sat on the counter. “I went out and got some bagels,” Iain said. “Thought you might want to relax this morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And coffee’s in the pot.

  She smiled and started to serve herself. He hadn’t just bought some bagels and cream cheese. The bag also contained a cold container of thinly sliced salmon, which sort of looked raw.

  “Don’t worry, it’s not raw,” Iain said.

  “Did I say anything?”

  “It’s kind of on your face. And by kind of, I mean totally.”

  She shook her head. “And here I was, thinking I was slick.”

  “Not slick enough.” He chuckled. “I noticed how you choked down the fish at Éternité. You could’ve lied a bit better.”

  She gasped. “You knew?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You think Mark noticed?” She might never be allowed to cook. Liking raw fish was probably de rigueur at his restaurants. Great—now I’m starting to sound like André.

  “He doesn’t notice anything except Hilary. Totally whupped.”

  She put the toasted bagel, a single-serving package of chive-flavored cream cheese and salmon on her plate. “You want some too?”

  “Sure. I could go for a second breakfast.”

  She gave him some and sat down. “This is nice,” she said, munching on her food.

  They ate in a companionable silence. It was calming after a lifetime of living in a noisy home. She then thought of something.

&nb
sp; “Hey, Iain?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You do charities and stuff, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you ever meet the people you’re giving money to?”

  He frowned. “No. Why would I?”

  “Don’t you want to check and see how they’re doing with your money?”

  “Not really. I’m careful where I put my money, but that’s about the end of my involvement.”

  She sighed. That figured. He didn’t even buy gifts for his own family himself. She took an experimental bite of the salmon. It wasn’t raw…but it definitely wasn’t cooked either. It had an odd texture. And there was some seasoning…

  “What is it?” Iain said.

  She started. “What?”

  “You’ve sighed three times in the last two minutes.”

  “Oh. Well… It’s something André said yesterday.”

  “Is he promoting you?”

  “I wish. I think he wants to get rid of me actually. He told me unless I like making hundreds of dishes per service without ever seeing the diners happily eating my food I shouldn’t try to be a cook. Oh and he said I’ll definitely hear about it when they think I suck.”

  “Generally seems to be how it works. It’s like a factory assembly line, except you’re in charge of putting things together once they give you all the raw ingredients.”

  “You think so, huh?”

  “Yup. I’ve seen it once. Not very glamorous. I have no desire to run a restaurant, but I do invest in Mark’s ventures when he wants me to.”

  “I thought he was ri—I mean comfortable.”

  “He’s both.” Iain smiled. “But a lot of his money is tied up in his restaurants and other investments. And using other people’s money can be better, depending.”

  Jane nodded. Borrowing probably wasn’t too bad if you knew what you were doing. If she’d been smarter, she wouldn’t have given fifty thousand dollars to a lowlife like Gio. His last nastygram had twisted her stomach. He was probably still angry she was gone. He needed to get over it.

  “By the way, can you tell me where you keep Christmas decorations?” she asked.

  “Christmas decorations?” He frowned. “I don’t have any.”