Page 23 of The Billionaire's Naughty List

She beams up at me. “You’re the best.”

Then she fiddles with a silver ornament, mug in the other hand. Her nails are a cheerful red.

I sip my own cocoa as I cross to the couch facing the window. “This afternoon is straight out of a Christmas movie.”

I can already see the rest of my life unfolding before my eyes. I’m a happy yes-man, keeping his girl happy. Making her happy brings me a ridiculous amount of joy.

“You think?”

She’s still smiling and fuck if I don’t love seeing her smile. It damn near killed me to stifle her interest last year. Never again. This was the longest, loneliest, hardest year of my life and I’ll be happy to never repeat it.

Knowing she was somewhere, pulling away from me, protecting her heart, I’ve been a bear. Especially because I thought there was no hope in overcoming it.

She puts her mug on the end table and climbs on the sofa next to me, arm around my shoulders, legs in my lap. I love that she can’t stop touching me. Now that we’re started, there’s no turning this off.

“You’re perfect,” I murmur, echoing her earlier sentiment. It’s cheesy and I don’t even care.

That’s what seeing her on OnlySantas did. It unlocked this side of me and I don’t hate it.

“Stop. But don’t stop,” she says with a laugh.

“Never.”

She makes a happy sound, cuddling closer. It’s only been a few hours since I last had her, but my cock surges beneath my fly, eager for her again. I try reminding it, and myself, that we don’t need to fuck her every hour of every day.

Cuddling like this is amazing, even though I’ve never been much of a snuggler.

But having her at my side makes relaxing pleasant. Her presence is calming. Soothing.

I’ve never had this before. Not growing up on the ranch. Not while building my company. Those parts of my life were rough, harder, without much softness.

The wood in the fireplace hisses as it burns. Outside, it’s almost completely dark now, snowing hard. But inside, it’s warm and cozy, and smells like fir sap and chocolate.

She reaches up and gently presses against the side of my chin. “Sorry, just checking to make sure you’re real.”

After putting my mug next to hers, I curl a finger around a lock of her hair and give it a tiny tug. “Yep, you’re real, too.”

Her smile is a little watery, and it hits me that she really had walked away when I told her to. She respected me enough to do the hard thing. The hardest thing of all - push her feelings down and walk away.

I pull her into my lap, press a kiss to her hair and close my eyes.

She’s the perfect mix of strength and softness. Fight and surrender. Determination and acceptance.

And she picked me.

I’m a lucky bastard. And I don’t care what dragons I have to fight, I’m not going back. I can’t.

She cups my face between her hands, studying me closely. “I don’t want to ruin such a perfect moment.”

“But?”

“I’m worried what’s going to happen when the others show up.”

Right. I told her to let me worry about it, but she’s a team player.

“Do you want to wait to tell them?”

She shakes her head, eyes widening. “No. No way. Plus, I don’t think I can stop touching you that long.”

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