Page 201 of Filthy Rich Santas

I try to glare at him, but when he taps my cheek right where I know my dimple is, I know I’ve failed miserably.

“I love you,” he says. “And it’s Christmas morning. I will absolutely fuck you, but since there’s no way we’d let you out of bed if we got started with that right now, and none of us want to make you miss Christmas…”

God help me, I’m tempted though.

But I’m also incredibly touched. I know the holiday isn’t his favorite, but he knows for sure that it’s mine.

“Thank you,” I say, running my fingers over the rough stubble on his cheeks and leaning in for a chaste kiss. “I really do love you.”

“My turn,” Beckett rumbles, tugging me off Ryder’s lap and pulling me onto his.

He wraps a hand around my throat, tipping my head back so he can kiss me. Then he lifts me up and sets me on the ground, rising from the bed in one fluid movement.

“Wha—?” I ask, feeling a little dazed and a whole lot turned on.

He gives me that wicked grin I love so much, blatantly adjusting his hard cock. “Ryder is right. We’ll keep you busy in here all day if we don’t exercise a little self-control.”

I pout. I can’t help it. And instead of his usual resting hard-ass Dom face, Beckett laughs.

Tristan grabs his glasses off the nightstand and fits them on his face, then pulls me close and smiles against my lips as he kisses me. “For the record, I second all of that, freckles, but I also know Grandma Meg has probably been up and cooking for at least an hour. How about we head into the main house and exchange gifts?”

“I’d love that.”

“I want this Christmas to be everything you’ve dreamed of, even though…” He hesitates, his playful expression turning a little more serious. “I know you were expecting to be with your family today.”

“I was,” I agree softly.

“Are you okay?”

I pause, considering my answer. The confrontation yesterday was intense, but it was also a relief, and I decide not to let myself feel bad about it. Sometimes, family is more than blood. It’s the people who choose you. Who put you first. Who prove that they care.

The people I’m with today.

I smile up at Tristan, nodding. “Yeah, I am. This trip definitely hasn’t gone the way I expected, but I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

He pulls me into a hug. “Damn right you are.”

Beckett nods, stepping closer. “We’ve got you, little menace. Always.”

“But about being exactly where you’re supposed to be…” Ryder grins, adjusting his Santa hat and pulling a wrapped gift out of his duffle bag. “We should get a move on. I swear I can smell bacon cooking in the main house.”

Tristan laughs. “Pretty sure that’s wishful thinking.”

Ryder looks stricken. “No bacon?”

Beckett throws his toiletries bag at him. “No way in hell you’d be able to smell it from here, so hurry up and get dressed so we can go find out.”

His words are punctuated by his stomach rumbling, and we all hurry to shower and get dressed, laughing and joking as we leave the guesthouse.

Outside, it’s a real-life winter wonderland.

“Oh my god.” My hands fly to my cheeks as the brisk air hits them, and I turn in a circle, taking in the pristine snow that blankets the ground.

“It’s beautiful,” Tristan agrees, but when I glance at him, he’s not looking at the snowscape.

He’s looking at me.

My heart stutters in my chest—and then I stifle a laugh as I see Ryder stealthily packing up a snowball behind him.

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