Page 5 of Filthy Rich Santas

“No,” he says, wrapping his hand around my arm again and pulling me along like he did before.

“Bossy, much?” I mutter under my breath.

Beckett slants a heated look at me. “Yes. I’m calling you a car.”

I duck my head, hiding my smile. Even if I’ll never have the men I’ve always wanted, at least I know that I wasn’t wrong about one thing. Dominance with a side of possessive overprotectiveness really does do it for me.

Still, I’m not a damsel in distress.

“You don’t have to do that.”

His grip tightens on my arm, and for a second, I see that flash ofsomethingin his eyes again. “Yeah, little menace, I do. I need to know you’re safe.”

I nod and let him do it, not arguing when he waits with me so he can vet the driver, then ushers me into the back seat and tells him where to take me with another one of those menacing glares to let the guy know I’d better arrive in good condition.

I even smile at him when he pats the top of the car to send me on my way, giving him a jaunty little wave that hides the dejection creeping over me as the town car pulls away from the curb.

Of course Beckett wants me to be safe. It’s in his nature. It might even be some kind of bro-code promise he made to my brother.

But in the three months since Wade broke up with me, I’ve slowly been figuring out who I really am. Or at least, who I think I want to be. And playing itsafeisn’t really a part of that picture.

I want to paint my life with bold colors now.

I want to not just make peace with all my imperfections, but find a way to celebrate them.

I want heat and passion and something wild, like the fantasies I had about tonight would play out.

I sigh, using my finger to draw a row of interlocking hearts in the condensation on the town car’s tinted window before leaning my face against the cool glass to watch the city pass by. This was my last chance to really feel likemebefore heading back east to spend Christmas with my family. At least, the version of me that I want to become. And it’s only now, driving away from Radiance with nothing to show for my night except my dreams going up in smoke, that I can admit the truth to myself.

My fantasies about tonightdidinclude the three men who own the club. But my fantasies were just that. Fantasies.

The reality is that even though it was only Beckett I ran into tonight, I know that all three of them see me the same way. As someone to protect, care for, maybe even coddle. But never as someone to love. Not the way I want them to.

And never as someone to do all the wonderfully filthy things that those fantasies of mine are made of.

2

RYDER

“You really don’t mindme taking the whole week of Christmas off, sir?” one of our bartenders asks, lingering by the exit as I finish the final security check of the night.

“Of course not, Miranda,” I reassure her, sending her a warm smile. “You’ve earned it.”

Our employees tend to gravitate to Radiance because they’re part of the kink community too, and I have no problem feeding her need for reassurance since her “Daddy” isn’t around at the moment to handle that.

Not my kink, but I’m definitely equal opportunity.

She finally leaves, and with the club shut down for the night, I head toward the back office. Co-owning a kinky sex club with two of my best friends is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Financially, it’s done incredibly well for us, but that’s not the real perk. It’s not even that I get to spend the majority of my time in a place that caters to my chosen lifestyle, with an unlimited buffet of play partners readily available. The real perk is being in business with two of my favorite people in the world.

“All good?” Tristan asks, looking up when I enter the office the three of us share.

“Peachy,” I say, sprawling out on one of the expensive, wide leather chairs we chose for the office, to make our “business meetings” a bit more comfortable.

Beckett may be the true beast out of the three of us, size-wise, but equally matched at 6’2”, even if he is a bit leaner, Tristan and I aren’t small men either. So the chairs are less of an indulgence and more of a necessity.

Especially because gathering here for a drink at the end of the night whenever more than one of us is at the club has become a bit of a ritual. And sure, we do occasionally discuss business as we unwind after hours, but that’s the beauty of owning the place. The only schedule we actually have to stick to is the one we make for ourselves, and building a life where I get to stay close to the guys who are practically like brothers to me is by far the best perk owning Radiance offers.

Not that I’m ever going to say shit like that out loud, of course.

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