Page 135 of Filthy Rich Santas

But I don’t want to.

“Yes, sir,” I whisper, keeping my eyes locked with his as I blindly reach out next to me, feeling around for my phone.

Beckett smiles as I swipe to answer and bring it to my ear. He adjusts me on his lap, holding me in place instead of driving up into me, and starts playing with my clit piercing while I do as I’ve been told.

“Wade?” I answer breathlessly, stifling a moan as Beckett pinches my clit, tugging gently on the little ring.

“Lana.” Wade’s crisp voice comes through. “I’m returning your call.”

I bite my lip, then have to bite back another moan as Beckett continues teasing my clit, rolling the pad of his finger over it. He’s making it impossible to concentrate.

“My call? I didn’t—ahhhh.”

Beckett gives me a wicked smile while Wade’s impatient huff sounds in my ear.

“I have a missed call from you. One which you clearly forgot to disconnect after it went to my voicemail.”

It sounds like he’s talking about an accidental butt dial. I’m sure of it when he goes on.

“I could hear you laughing and talking with… someone. Several someones, actually. Who were you with?”

“Today?” I ask, the snap in his tone barely registering thanks to the way Beckett’s cock pulses inside me as he watches me struggle.

“Yes, today,” Wade says, annoyance clear in his voice.

“Oh. Um…”

I can’t think. Beckett has stopped playing with my clit and started slowly raising and lowering me on his cock again, lifting my ass in his big hands and then guiding me back down with agonizing precision as Wade’s voice drones in my ear.

My whole body feels hot, my toes curling as the pleasure begins to build again.

“Lana,” Wade snaps. “Who did I hear you talking to when you left that message earlier?”

Even though the call isn’t on speaker, Beckett and I are close enough that I can tell he hears my ex-fiancé’s part of the conversation too.

“Answer the man, dirty girl,” he murmurs, so low the phone doesn’t pick up his words.

My stomach flips.

“Friends,” I blurt, then suck in a sharp, audible breath when I feel another set of hands on me.

It’s Tristan. It must be. He reaches back from the front seat and pulls my panties aside even more, fingering my ass while Beckett starts playing with my clit ring again.

I press my lips tight together, so focused on restraining my sounds of pleasure that I can barely concentrate on what Wade is saying.

“I suppose it’s a good thing you’re enjoying your vacation,” my ex says stiffly. “I know the Christmas season is your favorite.”

“How, um, oh god, how do you know I’m on… on vacation?”

Beckett’s thrusts up hard, the tendons in his neck standing out as he starts increasing the pace again, pushing me right back to the peak as he stares into my eyes.

“Is everything alright, Lana?” Wade asks.

“Yes,” I choke out, my voice high and thready. “It’s… it’s perfect.”

“I’ve missed you,” Wade says abruptly. “Hearing your laugh on that voicemail… well, it made me think that maybe we should reconsider this separation.”

I’m going to come. Beckett has given up all pretense of teasing me and is back to fucking me with a single-minded intensity that wipes out all my higher reasoning.

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