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And if Porter thought the nickname Scrooge suited me before, he wished he had kept his nose out of my business now. Nothing he did suited me. There was not a single goddamn thing he could do to please me and damn it, he deserved my grouchiness. Every last minute of it. He’s learning fast misery loves company.
If I had to be miserable so did that little meddling shit.
And I’d love to say it was because I hated the holiday season and found myself surrounded by the constant sound of Christmas music and pine trees and twinkle lights around every corner that I couldn’t seem to keep my temper in check.
But I hate lying. I’d been clear when I told Porter I didn’t want even a hint of the holidays to intrude on the sanctuary of my penthouse, and he’d followed those orders. So even though almost every inch of the Luna was decked out in some sort of tasteful and understated holiday décor, my offices and my home remained my haven where I hide from the relentless holiday cheer everywhere else.
Despite Porter’s belief, Christmas had nothing to do with turning me into the crotchety caricature of a man from some Christmas drama. She did this to me. Fantasies of having her intruded into every minute of my day, and my dreams, until I can no longer concentrate.
Sleep? Forget it. Every night I fall asleep with my hand wrapped around my cock and thoughts of her in my head.
It was because of her.My Winter Angel.
Disgusted with myself, I tossed aside my work and retreated to my private study. For what must have been the thousandth time in two days, I opened up the Jolly Nights app to herprofile.
I taunted myself with thoughts that maybe she’d answered other ads, and even as I sat here some other man was claiming what belonged to me.A strange possessiveness consumed me, clawing at my gut. I wouldn’t be good for shit until I finally had her where I wanted her—pinned under me on my oversized bed, her legs wrapped around me as I buried myself so deep inside her, she’d be able to taste me. I’d have her under my control, take my fill of her, and then finally…fucking finally.I’d be able to get my head on straight, burn her constant presence from my mind and get back to what I was meant to be doing—working.
Relief poured through me as I admitted to myself that the only way to purge her was to respond to her, meet her, claim her, and take her as many times as needed to work her out of my system.
Maybe Porter and West were right after all. Maybe this strange obsession grew from all the pent-up sexual energy I’d ignored while buried under work. As silly as I’d thought their idea, my fixation on this woman proved they had seen something I hadn’t been aware of.
I’d work Angel out of my system and then I’d ensure I never got to this point again where a few simple words and a set of big hazel eyes could fascinate me to the point of utter distraction.
With my mission clear and respite from insidious thoughts of Angel about to be mine, I tapped out a quick message in response to her:
Angel, here is your first chance to submit to my commands. Meet me this evening at 7 sharp at the Eclipse Lounge on the second floor of the Luna Hotel. Wear a dress. No panties. The only thing that will be touching that part of you tonight will be me. If you are ready to submit, there are only two words I need to hear from you. Scrooge.
I hit enter and placed my phone on the side table next to the oversized leather chair where I sat. I stared at it for several long seconds before I jumped up with a curse.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I’m not some teen boy fawning over some Christmas holiday crush waiting with bated breath for an answer.
I strode over to the opposite side of the room and pressed a discreet button near the door. A wall slid back, revealing a well-stocked bar. I grabbed a glass and poured myself a scotch. From up here the wide windows give a panoramic view of the whole town bustling about, preparing the town square for the tree lighting in a couple of days. Snow covered everything and in the quiet of my home office, I take a moment to enjoy the silent view.
But not for long. My mind taunted me with questions about what I would do if she didn’t respond. I walked back to my chair and kicked my feet up on the ottoman as I sipped my drink. I couldn’t even pretend I was going to go back to work. The past few days proved I wouldn’t be doing anyone any good until I heard from Angel.
But that didn’t mean I had to turn myself into an overanxious schoolboy while I waited for her to respond. I contemplated the spines on the bookshelves that lined the wall behind my oak desk. I should be working on the final details for the Christmas party we have planned for the guests. Or the details for the newest hotel we were opening in the Big Easy next spring. Both projects were a week or two behind and needed my immediate attention.
But instead of doing what I always did—work myself into exhaustion until every last detail fell into place—I made myself sit there and slowly finish my drink.
Finally after what felt like hours, but probably only fifteen minutes, I placed the glass down on the side table and picked up my phone. I opened the app and didn’t take the time to examine the sense of relief that coursed through me as I saw that she responded.
I clicked on her new message and saw she’d responded with one single word:
Yes.
I typed out a message:
Aren’t you forgetting something?
Her response came quickly on the heels of my text.
Yes…Sir. – Your Winter Angel
Chapter Four
Wynter
At seven sharp I entered the Eclipse for the first time. Warm lighting welcomed me into the cozy side lounge where several guests enjoyed evening pre-dinner drinks. I’ve worked here for a year and never ventured out of the accounting department in the south wing and no wished I used my off hours for a little more socializing.
