The Grumpy Billionaire Who Stole Christmas Read Online Lili Valente

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
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None of which have any business attending this particular holiday party.

Focus, Holly. Enjoy the very sexy moment for what it is—a fantasy come to life, not the start of something more.

Using sharp kicking motions, I rid myself of the costume. Luke divests himself of his pants, giving me a great view of his strong thighs and thick, rigid cock. I barely have time to process the magnitude of all that is Luke before he’s over me again.

After a slow, delicious kiss that has me panting, he pushes inside me and every nerve ending in my body lights up in celebration. Damn. He was so worth the wait. Definitely, one hundred percent worth the wait.

I let out a sigh of pleasure and wrap my legs around him.

I wouldn’t usually consider myself a greedy person but I’m suddenly ravenous for more of him, all of him.

“Holly,” he groans. “You feel so good.”

“Back at ya,” I manage to spit out between soft cries of pleasure as I urge him closer, deeper.

Then I can no longer speak because Luke Ratcliffe and his impressive package have me shattering beneath him. My orgasm sweeps over me as I grip his biceps, not even remotely shocked with the speed at which I’ve reached the point of no return.

It’s been way too long since I’ve had sex and Luke is way too hot.

It’s simple math.

It also summons a smile to Luke’s face that should earn him a place on the naughty list.

“You’re very proud of yourself,” I pant, rocking into his increasingly erratic thrusts.

“So proud,” he breathes. “Never been fucking prouder.”

Then he’s right there with me, going over the edge with a ragged curse. And I swear, I can feel how good it is for him. Delicious echoes of his pleasure shiver across my skin, making me cling tighter to his shoulders, wishing this moment could last forever.

But sadly, even epic orgasms must eventually come to an end.

When we’re both still, breathing hard, he smooths my hair and chuckles softly. “Best. Snowstorm. Ever.”

Sighing, I wiggle happily beneath him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Luke eases back and rolls onto the mat beside me. He pulls me against him with a strong arm and drapes my reindeer costume over my torso. Then he goes quiet.

Silence isn’t my favorite state of being. I listen to his and try to interpret it. Is it pensive silence or sexually satisfied silence? Regret or mere fatigue? Is he envisioning all the ways he can embrace the magic of the holidays or plotting another heist?

I give him approximately one minute to relax without communication.

It’s a struggle, then I have to ask, “By the way, what were you going to do with Captain Herbert’s wooden leg?”

“Burn it,” he says, without hesitation. “Toss a match onto that ridiculous—and disgusting—tradition and watch it go up in flames.”

I push onto my elbow, my eyebrows shooting up. “That’s a bold plan, destined to enrage at least ninety-nine percent of Jingle Bell Junction. Not a great way to make friends, Mr. Ratcliffe.”

Sometimes it seems like Luke is determined to shove people away, hell bent on proving he’s not a good guy. But I know better.

He shrugs dismissively, his gaze focused on the ceiling. “I don’t have any friends here anyway.”

That makes me lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m your friend. I’ve never forgotten about you.”

But Luke clearly isn’t interested in dissecting his complicated relationship with his family and this town.

He shoots me a suggestive smile and runs his hand over the curve of my ass, giving it a squeeze. “I appreciate the generosity of your friendship, Holly Jo.”

I strongly suspect I overestimated my ability to heal Luke’s emotional wounds. At least in one night. The clock is ticking, and while I may have turned his frown upside down with our snowstorm, power’s out, calamity sex, he’s yet to tear down his barriers and reveal that he’s learned the true meaning of Christmas.

Hint: It doesn’t include setting a peg leg on fire in a personal vendetta against tacky tree toppers.

But I don’t want to push him any harder, not until I have a couple of puppies acting as backup tomorrow, so I smile and assure him, “There’s definitely more where that came from, Mr. Ratcliffe. So much more.”

Chapter Seven

LUKE

“But I should get up first.” I kiss the top of Holly’s head. “Get dressed.”

She snuggles closer, locking her arm around my waist with surprising strength. “No. Dressed bad. Naked good.”

I smile. “You’ve decided we aren’t in a horror movie, after all?”

“Of course not,” she says with a happy sigh. “We’re in a rom com. Obviously. Unless we freeze to death before morning. Then we’ll be in a tear-jerking drama.” She hums beneath her breath. “A really bad one because nothing up to now has foreshadowed such a tragic turn of events.” She lifts her head, glaring down at me in the dim light. “If we freeze to death, I’m going to be pissed. That’s just bad storytelling.”



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