Cheeky Christmas: A British Billionaire Holiday Romance Page 10

  I sighed. “Not what I had in mind.”

  “Hm… look who's being cheeky now.” She patted my chest before stepping by me.

  I hated the loss of contact instantly. I had to get my hands on her again. She’d awakened something raw and untamed deep inside me that I couldn’t turn off, and I damn sure didn’t want to.

  “Mm… Irish slang sounds so pretty rolling off your tongue.”

  She shook her arse before shooting me a silly look over her shoulder. “You know for an Irishman, you sure know a lot of cheesy American pick-up lines.”

  My laugh echoed around the small room. “I’ve been in Cambridge for four years now. I’m practically an Irish-American at this point.”

  She slid the lock closed on the door and turned to me, this shift had flown by with her. “What made you come here?”

  The way the black de Rossi’s tank top hugged her tits made me want to cover her up with a tablecloth, take her in back, and put her over my leg for being so goddamn gorgeous that an eejit like me didn’t stand a chance at deserving her.

  “School.” I averted my eyes, sensing she wouldn’t be too keen on the type of life I’d come from.

  “Harvard boy?”

  “Is it that obvious?” I grinned when she passed me and ducked behind the bar.

  “It’s definitely that obvious.” She scrunched her nose adorably before flicking me with her damp rag. “But I like smart boys.”

  As soon as she said that, my chest puffed up in some show of pride. If Charlie de Rossi liked smart men, then I definitely had a chance.

  “Oh?”

  My eyes danced with flirtation. I wanted to lunge across the space and lay her out on the bar, spread her thighs, and make her call my name. Then we could really shut this place down. I couldn’t help the grin splitting my lips at that fantasy. Her, hot and sweaty and begging me to lick that sweet pussy until she couldn’t think straight. God, I wanted her tied up and coming all day long. I wanted to give her so many orgasms, then lock her up and keep my tongue latched to her body in one way or another.

  “No, no, not that look again. That’s the look you had in your eyes the last time you—we…”

  My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. She was upset. I’d upset her. I didn’t want that look on her face ever, and the fact that I’d put it there somehow ruined me.

  “Don’t sweat it, Charlie. I won’t touch you again until you beg me to, but it does leave me curious…” I crossed the distance between us. Not grabbing her and kissing her was the most unnatural thing in the universe.

  “Curious?” She tipped her chin up. She was intrigued. I loved that look on her face.

  “Who put you off men? Is it just your father and big brother playing the protective role, or did some arsehole hurt you?” I traced the pad of my thumb along her jawline and watched a shiver roll through her body.

  I was praying that it was just a macho Italian thing from the men in her family. The idea of another man touching what was mine was unbearable. It also made me want to find that piece of shit and beat him within an inch of his life. No one hurts my woman, no one.

  Even though I didn’t know her then, she’d always been mine.

  Her eyes fell closed as she sucked in a fortifying breath. “It’s not them.” She shook her head before one tear hovered at her eyelash.

  “Hey, love. Come here.” I swiped at the tear then pulled her into my arms. I was waiting for her to push me away, but she surprised the hell out of me by wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me in for a tight hug. “Whatever happened is in the past. You’re safe here.”

  She would be safe from this day forward. Anyone who dared to hurt her would have to kill me first.

  She nodded and swiped at her cheek while I ran a comforting palm down her long silky hair.

  “I want to go out and find whoever hurt you and pummel him straight into the fucking ground. I don’t care what he did. If he hurt you that much, he deserves to eat cement.”

  Her smile cracked and warmed my heart. “Vince already did that.”

  Suddenly I liked Vince more than I already did.

  “It was a long time ago,” she said. “I don’t have a history of making very good decisions when it comes to men, I guess.”

  “What the hell do you mean? A few bad decisions shouldn’t destroy your faith in yourself. If you don’t make a few bad decisions along the way, how will you know when the right one comes knockin’?”

  Her eyes held mine for an extra beat before she pulled away from my arms. “Look at you being all wise… I’ve never thought of it that way.”

  I nodded and swiped at her hand, caressing her wrist with my thumb. “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “No, no, it just haunts me every now and again.”

  “It seems to haunt you a lot.”

  She froze, her eyes trained on me before she turned and picked up a few stray towels then walked into the backroom. I wanted to shake her until she told me what happened. I wanted no secrets between us, but I didn’t want to scare her. I wanted her to know that I was her rock, her man. That she could run to me with anything, no matter how big or small.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. When you’re ready, I’ll listen. I’m told I’m a good listener.”

  She tossed the towels in a dirty clothes bin while shaking her head. “I’m not used to spilling my guts to strangers.”

  “We’re far from strangers.” I danced a fingertip along the curve of her waist. “Far, far from strangers.” She was my other half, the very core of my soul.

  Her head whipped around, and she nailed me with a confident look before lifting the basket. “I’m going to throw this in the wash. I’ll be back in a minute and we can start on the kitchen?”

  “I’ll be here,” I called with a wave, a little disheartened that she hadn’t opened up to me. “Waiting for you,” I whispered to myself.

  While I waited for her, I got to work on deep cleaning the small kitchen area that catered to the high fat, fried bar food the customers loved. Food wasn’t big business in the bar, but there was always one or two people wanting onion rings or poppers. A crash-course in using the fryer had been required when I started since the bar couldn’t afford a full-time cook.

  I was on my knees and scrubbing beneath the fryer when she returned. Her hair was high in a ponytail, her work shirt peeled off, so she was in just a pink tank top, one that outlined every goddamn curve she had and was meant to drive me nuts no doubt. Couldn’t she put on some more clothing? Those luscious curves were just for my eyes, and the bar may be closed now but that didn’t stop a jealous pit in my stomach from forming.

  “Hot.”

  “Liam—”

  “I mean it’s hot in here. But you look hot too—no need to beg for compliments, Charlie, I’ll always give them to you. I do think you should wear a turtleneck when you’re in everyone else’s presence though. A turtleneck and thick pants so no one can see those mouth-watering curves.”

  “Ya know”—she crossed her arms, and it plumped her tits in the most goddamn beautiful way. I wanted a fistful in each hand while I devoured her mouth with my tongue—“my dad was right about you.”

  I hardly registered her words as my gaze roamed her curves. “Oh?”

  “You are an Irish bastard.”

  “I thought he called me a playboy?”

  “I may have added that for dramatic effect. Get back to work, Irish.” She tossed a towel soaked in hot water at me, and I caught it before it landed with a fiery crack on my shoulder.

  “I have a feeling my energy could be put to better uses.” I couldn’t help flirting. She drove me mad with rock-hard lust.

  “Not your night, buddy,” she said with a grin before she bent on her knees at the opposite end of the cooktop and started scrubbing with me.

  A moment later, she paused and pulled out her phone. The opening notes of a Lynyrd Skynyrd song belted from her phone, and I instantly thought that this was just the Ame
rican experience I’d been looking for when I decided to stay in Boston this summer, despite my parents’ best efforts to change my mind.

  And Charlie was the perfect American girl to meet this summer. Such a refreshing change from my otherwise dull and predictable life.

  She rose a few minutes later, tossing the towel into the soapy bucket and admiring her work. “I think it looks good.”

  “I think you missed a spot.” I pointed vaguely, giving her a hard time.

  “What? Where?” She cocked her head and leaned closer to me.

  “Right”—I pulled her a little closer—“here.” I swiped at her temple with my thumb, catching a straight bit of dust that had smudged there. “Perfect.”

  Her playlist shuffled to another song, something a little slower.

  Her eyes closed, and she swayed to the beat. “This is my mom’s favorite song.”

  “It’s a beautiful one.”

  She nodded as she seemed to absorb the words. “We lost her a long time ago. I only have a few memories of her, but the ones I have are good ones. I don’t think my dad’s looked at another woman since.”

  “Did she pass away?” I pulled her down to the floor with me. The tiles bit into my knees, but I didn’t give a shit. I loved this softer side of her.

  “She was an alcoholic—spare me with the irony. She was on all these anxiety meds, and I think it mixed with the booze and one day she just snapped. Left my dad this pathetic Dear John letter on his pillow and never came back.”

  “It must have been hard growing up in a houseful of men.”

  “Sometimes.” Her smile tipped up at what I assumed were the memories running through her head. “I think it brought us all closer together, made us even more tight-knit than we already were. It was tough going through high school without her: going on my first date, having my first kiss. But it all went to hell anyway, so I’m almost glad she wasn’t here for that. I had all I needed in Daddy and Vince.” She seemed to pull herself from her thoughts and replace the chip that normally sat on her shoulder.

  “Sounds like you’ve got a great family.”

  “The best. The kitchen looks pretty good. We can probably close up and head home now.” She stood, breaking me from our trance.

  I followed suit and tossed my rag in the bucket before washing my hands next to her in the sink.

  She looked up at me, as if seeing me again for the first time. “Thank you for being so nice to me. I don’t think anyone has ever been so nice to me without wanting something in return.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t take it that far.” I stepped toward her, tipping up her chin and forcing her gaze to mine. “I do want something from you, but I won’t take what you aren’t willing to give.”

  Her eye held mine for long beats before tears filled her eyes again. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks necessary, love.” I traced a thumb across the delicate bow of her rosy lips before forcing myself to pull away.

  Christ, I wanted her more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life. It felt like fate that I’d stayed in Cambridge this summer, fate that I’d walked into her dad’s bar looking for a job, fate that she’d even chanced a second glance at me at all.

  I’d broken down her defenses on that very first night and seen a glimpse of the tender, gorgeous woman buried beneath her hard outer shell, and it intoxicated me.

  Charlie was going to be my complete undoing, and I finally had the sense that she felt this thing

  pulsing between us too. Now I only had to stay the course.

  FOUR

  Charlie

  Liam was driving me insane with his flirty glances and ever-so-soft brushes against my body. Persistent must have been his damn middle name. Vince had even popped in with his new girlfriend, Vanessa, and caught one such glance. I’d withered away from Liam’s touch, embarrassed to have drawn my brother’s attention.

  Vince pulled me aside before leaving.

  “You okay, little sis? I’ll kick his ass back to England in a second.”

  “He’s from Ireland, Vince.”

  “Whatever. You need anything, just call, okay? Got that?” He patted my shoulder just as dad had done last night.

  These boys and their white knight complexes. I’d never find a boyfriend at this rate, but then again, wasn’t that why I stayed? Why I hung around my family and accepted the safety they had to give? I’d learned my lesson and needed their protection and support to get me through, so I would be a plain asshole to push them away now. Sure, it’d been a few years since I’d sworn off men, but my father and brother had never stopped looking out for me.

  After a night spent tossing and turning, I rolled over in bed, hand over my eyes to block the early morning light. I had the day off, the first day in a few that I wouldn’t see Liam. Truth be told, I was happy for my heart to have a break from all the pounding, my stomach to have a break from the butterflies, and my thighs from all the incessant shifting.

  Like it or not, Liam was gorgeous, over six feet and broad, with muscles that rippled. Add to that his faint Irish accent, and I was done for. A complete fucking mess with him on my mind when a man should be the very last thing I was thinking about.

  I sighed, thinking I should leave my apartment and run some errands today. I’d promised Dad I’d do some grocery shopping for him and cook him a few freezer meals, but nothing sounded better than lying in bed all day. I twisted over and swiped my phone off the nightstand, surprised to find a text from an unknown number.

  Spend the day with me?

  It was the Irish bastard, or playboy depending on who you asked. A grin instantly split my face. I wanted to spend time with him. He made me laugh. He was kind and sweet and unlike any guy I’d ever met. But could I trust him?

  I supposed he had been right when he said one mistake wasn’t worth sacrificing my future. It’d been six years since I’d handed my heart over to someone, only to have it trampled on. The memories still affected me though.

  Gino had done a number on me. He’d stolen my innocent heart, made me believe he’d always cradle it in his kind hands, then violated my love and loyalty. When I’d refused to give him my virginity, even though I was an eighteen-year-old who thought she was in love, he decided to ruin me. That pain still stung, and the repercussions of it followed me to this day.

  I suck in a quick breath and shoot out of bed, heading to my tiny bathroom to wash my shameful history from my skin. As hot water pounded over my body, a few tears leaked out of my eyes. I’d allowed myself to succumb to the role of victim, but I wasn’t a victim. I was a survivor of bullying, of hate, of a man who crushed my heart publicly.

  I couldn’t keep denying myself happiness, passion, love just because of one mistake.

  Maybe Liam was right when he’d said surprises made life all the sweeter. I’d only been denying myself happiness and the best surprise of all—Liam.

  By the time I hopped out of the shower, I was practically racing to get back to my phone. I grinned, wrapped my towel tighter around my torso, and punched in my reply.

  Okay, the American girl accepts the offer from the Irish Playboy Bastard.

  His reply came almost instantly.

  Haha, Bastard and Playboy?

  With a smile, I replied.

  Until you prove otherwise, yes. ;) See you in an hour.

  He sent back a winky face. God, he was so damn cute. I suddenly felt as though an hour wasn’t enough time to prep.

  I met Liam outside the bar an hour later, my hands fidgeting and twisting my hair, which I’d painstakingly curled into soft waves.

  Liam walked up and pecked me on the cheek. “You’re a vision, love.”

  I sighed, letting my eyes flutter closed. “Thank you.”

  His hand slipped around my back, and he led me down the sidewalk to a dark car.

  “Yours?”

  “Mhmm.” He opened the passenger door, and I slid in. He walked around to the other side and got behind the wheel. “Ready to go for a ride?”<
br />
  “I'm not sure. Where are we going again?”

  He only winked at me before buckling his seatbelt and jetting away from the curb.

  “So it’s a surprise then?”

  “You’re catching on.” He grinned and patted my knee.

  I wished he’d leave his hand there, or maybe slide it up my thigh a little, just a little.

  “I told you, I don’t like—”

  “Surprises. I remember. But I’m determined to show you why surprises are a good thing. You just haven’t had the right surprise.”

  His flirty tenor set off fireworks in my stomach. He was so infuriating and gorgeous.

  We sped north on the freeway, the leather seat sticking to the backs of my thighs as he drummed along with the beat of the radio. I looked at him from the corner of my eyes, taking in the aquiline features, the sense of calm and peacefulness radiating from him. I did trust him—I wouldn’t be in this car if I didn’t—but there was still so much more to know about him.

  “So tell me about your parents.”

  His eyebrows rose in surprise before he turned down the music. “Not much to know.” He shrugged. “Dad’s in politics back home. Mom stays home for the most part, attends a charity gala now and again.”

  “Sounds fancy.”

  “It’s not really. I came here to escape them. They’re pretty rigid.”

  “Hmm… any siblings?”

  “Older brother and sister back home,” he said.

  “So you’re the only one who’s been Stateside?”

  “I didn’t say that, but the only one to stay, yes.”

  “Plan on going back?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It all depends on you.” He glanced at me. “What’s with the twenty questions?”

  “I just realized I’m locked in a speeding vehicle with you and know virtually nothing about you.”

  “You know all the important parts.”

  I swooned. How could he be so damn charming? His words were meant to unravel me, draw me in and get me caught in his web.

  “Tell me the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”