Page 10 of Curvy Girl for Santa

I hold Anastasia close as we both come down from the intense high, our breathing gradually slowing. Her cheek rests against my chest, her body molded perfectly to mine like we were made for each other. And in this moment, with the scent of our lovemaking heavy in the air, I know that we were.

This girl, with her compassionate heart and zest for life, has completely bewitched me, body and soul. I've known her mere hours but already I can't imagine my world without her. It should scare the hell out of me, but instead, a sense of rightness settles deep in my bones.

I stroke her back soothingly, pressing a kiss to her tousled auburn hair. "You okay, sweetheart?"

She tilts her head back to look at me, her green eyes soft and sated, a shy smile playing about her kiss-swollen lips. "More than okay. That was...incredible."

Pride surges through me, along with a possessiveness so fierce it steals my breath. I did that. I wrecked her for any other man.

"Good. Because this was just the beginning. Now that I've had a taste, I'm going to be addicted to this sweet pussy." I punctuate my words with a sensual caress of her still quivering sex, making her shiver and burrow closer.

"Ryan..." she breathes, and fuck if hearing my name on her lips isn't the hottest thing ever.

I could bask in the afterglow with her forever, but reality starts to encroach, the chill in the room registering now that the heat of our passion has cooled. Anastasia cuddles into me, no doubt seeking warmth, and protective instincts rise up inside me. My girl is cold. Unacceptable.

I ease her back onto the table and grab my discarded shirt, draping it around her shoulders. It swamps her curves adorably.More importantly, it will keep her warm while smelling like me. My cock stirs at the sight of her wrapped in my clothes, broadcasting to the world that she's mine.

I quickly pull on my jeans and then scoop her up in my arms, carrying her over to the worn couch in the corner. I sit down with her cradled in my lap, grabbing a fluffy throw blanket to tuck around us. Much better.

Anastasia snuggles into my chest with a contented sigh that makes my heart swell in my chest. I wrap my arms around her tightly, marveling at how perfectly she fits against me, like a missing puzzle piece slotting into place.

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, simply savoring the connection flowing between us. But as much as I want to stay cocooned with her forever, shutting out the rest of the world, I know we need to talk. I have to come clean about who I really am.

I clear my throat, but then she looks up at me with those breathtaking eyes of hers, and my words stick in my throat.

I can’t ruin this perfect moment.

I’ll tell her soon.

I promise.

six

?. . .?

Ryan

I slipout the back door of the community center, my heart pounding. Guilt gnaws at me as I picture Anastasia's radiant smile, her auburn hair glowing under the warm lights inside. She's busy hanging garlands, humming carols, completely unaware that I'm slipping out on her.

I scan the parking lot.

The sleek black Audi waits in the shadows. Frank, my driver, nods as I approach.

"Good evening, sir," he says, opening the door.

I slide into the plush leather seat, inhaling the scent of success and power. "To the city, Frank. We have a deal to close."

As we pull away, I force thoughts of Anastasia from my mind. Her curves, her laugh, the way she makes me feel alive—I can't afford distractions. Not now.

I pull out my phone, scrolling through emails. "What's our ETA?"

"About an hour, sir," Frank replies.

An hour to transform back into Ryan Caldwell, tech mogul and corporate shark. An hour to bury the man who loves small-town Christmas magic.

I loosen my scarf, feeling constricted. "Dammit," I growl, tossing it aside.

My fingers itch to text Anastasia, to explain. But what would I say? Sorry I'm actually a billionaire living a double life?

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