Holiday Escort: A Christmas Novella by Shanora Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

at me tomorrow, with the way your mother and father kept looking at me.”
    “How were they looking at you?” I ask, placing a hand beneath my chin.
    “Like they can’t believe I’m real… or that I belong to you.”
    Belong to me ? He makes it sound so intimate. “Oh.” I bite into my lower lip, releasing it slowly. He focuses on my mouth for less than a second, but then pulls his gaze away, standing from the bed and picking up his suitcase.
    “You don’t mind if I take a quick shower, do you?”
    “No—not at all. Have at it. I was going to check a few emails, maybe sneak to the kitchen for more cake once everyone is in their rooms.”
    He peers at me over his shoulder. “I can’t lie. It was pretty damn delicious.”
    “More than delicious! Jensen is a master at everything edible.”
    “I have to meet Jensen.”
    “I don’t think you will this year.” I push off the bed and pick up my laptop case from the desk in the corner. “He usually eats dinner with us every Christmas. He’s from Brazil, doesn’t have much family, so Mom always asks him to stay. This year, though, his Mom is sick so he’s in Brazil to take care of her. He cooked early for Mom so all she’d have to do is warm everything up. Sharing dinner with him is probably the nicest thing my mom really does for him. The rest of the year, he’s her bitch. Cooking breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner. She never lets up. Tania is her maid, but she’s with her family for the holiday.”
    “Oh. Okay.” Matthew enters the bathroom, casually pulling his shirt over his head before starting the shower. I blink slowly when he appears again, pointing back with his thumb.
    “Let me know if my singing gets too loud,” he says, and I pull my eyes from those delicious, rock-solid abs and up to his face. “I have a bad habit of singing in the shower and getting carried away with it.”
    “Aww, how cute! Maybe you should sing happy birthday to yourself while you’re at it.”
    “I don’t know about that one, but try me! Give me a good song to sing.”
    “Okay… umm…” I sit in the chair, tapping my chin. “Oh, do one by X Ambassadors! I love them. I actually edited a piece about them for our musical column once.”
    “ Renegades ?”
    “The perfect song,” I sing, spinning in my chair.
    Matthew lets out a hearty laugh and steps back. “You got it, angel.”
    Before I know it, he’s disappeared, the door shut, hiding the view of that perfect body. I knew he was hot beneath the layers. I just knew it! Though I didn’t think he’d be that hot.
    It’s difficult pretending I didn’t notice. So flawless, so toned and built, yet slender in all the right places. And that V! Let’s not forget the two cuts below those well-kept abs.
    Now that I’ve caught sight of that, there is only one thing to wonder about now—a certain package he carries—but I guess I’ll never know the answer to that one.
    I won’t get that view, but it was nice to catch sight of some delicious eye candy so soon.
    Funny thing is, I think he did that on purpose.
    He’s used to being drooled over. Maybe I wasn’t drooling over him enough, too focused on complaining about my family, so he did that as a statement and a distraction.
    I guess it worked because now I’m sitting here, listening to him sing loud and proud, while picturing soap and water running over his entire body.
    Damn it! If only I knew how big he was. Maybe he’s not so big and that’s his flaw. There is always something. There has to be something wrong with him. It has to be the penis.
    It just has to be.
    Well, that’s what I think anyway, until he comes out, his body wet, his brown hair damp, floppy, and hanging over his forehead, and droplets of water caught in his beard. The only thing he’s sporting is a white towel around his waist.
    And guess what?
    There’s the dick print!
    The slightly hard, thick, delightfully long, dick print.
    Great. Yeah, just great.
    Matthew Cooper has it all