Page 9 of The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

She peers up at me, "Shh."

"What?"

"You’re scaring the baby," she admonishes me.

"Baby?" I growl.

Max moans… No, really. That dog has definitely been taking acting classes, for he bleats out another piteous little whine that has her cuddling him, rocking him side to side. "There, there, little fella. Did Daddy’s heavy voice make your heart go pitter-patter?’’ She lifts him up, and the dog plays along. He licks her lips…right on the mouth.

"Hey!" I growl.

I push up to standing in the hot tub, water flowing from me like I turned on the shower. The water splashes out onto the dog and the woman, who bows her head to shield him. "Stop that, you’re making him wet." She huffs.

"Oh, yeah?" I scowl down at her bent head, the way she croons to the pet, hair flowing in a blonde waterfall about her shoulders, her dripping clothes that outline the curve of her shoulder…and that… The sight of the perfectly turned swell of a what should not be a seductive part of anyone’s body… But on Buttercup… It’s a bloody turn on. The blood rushes to my groin and my head spins. Must be the fact that I hit my hand. That’s why I am feeling lightheaded. No other reason. It’s why I step up and out of the sunken hot tub, to loom over her.

More water pours over her, drenching both woman and dog. He yelps, cowers into her further.

"What are you doing?" She tries to protect him with her body. "You’re an insensitive dog parent."

"I’m not a parent, this is not a child, and you…are completely insane."

She peers up at me, from under her spiky eyelashes. Her gaze runs up my thighs, my crotch, getting an eyeful of my rather spectacular appendage—yeah, I’m well hung, deal with it—up my impressive eight pack—it is eight, I know, I’ve seen myself in the mirror—to my mouth. She gulps; her cheeks turn a fiery red. "You… you…" She swallows, "Why are you flashing the little mite?" She props her palm over Max’s eyes. "You could have stunted his growth, with that exhibition," she huffs. "I mean just because you are … Uh, massive... You don’t need to go around shocking little doggies with your penchant for running around naked."

And that’s when something inside of me snaps. My vision tunnels and the blood thunders at my temples—anger…and frustration…and jealousy… Yeah, bloody hell, I am living with rage that she’s giving all of her attention to that…that… Usurper… I am going to teach her a lesson about ignoring me—one she won’t forget in a hurry. I bend over, grab the nape of her neck with my unhurt hand, and haul her up to her feet, with just enough force for her gaze to widen.

"What did you say?’

"Th…that you’re scaring him."

"After that."

"That you’re running around naked."

"Before that."

She blinks rapidly, the dog wriggles in her hold. "M…max," she stutters.

I click my tongue, "Not the word that you are looking for."

"M…massive?" she wheezes.

"You noticed, huh?"

"Kinda….h…hard not to…" she swallows, tips up her chin, "considering…"

"Considering." I drop my head, thrust my face into hers. "Considering?" I lower my voice. "Complete the sentence, Buttercup."

She gulps, "Considering you’ve been waving that in my face since—"

I lower my head, close my mouth over hers.

3

Amelie

Finally, finally, finally he’s kissing me… He’s… Oh! Warmth, heat, the taste of him pours through my veins, fills my senses. Hot, lush, complex and fiery, notes of ginger, cardamom, bitter orange and sumptuous creamy champagne. Oh, my…he tastes like my very personal favorite dessert… If I had to bottle this taste, make it into a dessert, it would be called... Kinky Banana Split? No, Kinky Pavlova, maybe… Kinky Almond and Chocolate cookies with pomegranate seeds and a splash of brandy… Oh, my, my. I’d totally dive into that concoction headfirst; after I’d scooped up the cream from the dark surface, licked it up, and my fingers... Then rub the mixture all over that delicious torso, down to his impressive bon-bons and— Wait, did I just call his balls bon-bons? Does that make his very impressive dick a…rhubarb and chocolate cock pop?

A giggle boils up my throat. Above me, he freezes, leans back until his mouth is poised just above mine. "What’s so funny?" he rasps.