A Bride For Christmas Read online

Page 2


  “Mother, please.”

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Abernathy. Forgive my language. Your son brings out my foul side.”

  “Don’t apologize, dear. Call me Patricia, please. If you two are done fighting on the steps here, why don’t we go inside and get married, hmm? I’ve got a philandering husband to bury,” she says, smiling.

  “I am sorry for your loss, but there is no way I can marry him,”

  “Don't even think it, Tilly dear. What's done is done.”

  “Wait just a damn minute Matilda, you signed the contract,” he says, grabbing my arm. The electricity that shoots up my arm causes me to gasp aloud.

  “Tilly, and nowhere in that twenty pages did it tell me what kind of jerk you are. I can’t tie myself to you for the rest of my life. You should find someone else better suited to you,” I say it, but I find that I don’t mean it. I don’t want him to marry someone else.

  What the fuck is that about?

  How fucking crazy am I?

  This is going to be a disaster.

  Chapter 3

  Josiah

  What the fuck was Delilah thinking? Bringing a woman so beautiful to me. I am not sure I’ll survive it. She looks as though she needs me as much as I need her. I have to convince her to marry me.

  I watch as Delilah pulls her aside and they talk. Matilda gestures wildly with her hands. My eyes are drawn to her tight ass in those bargain basement jeans that appear to be painted on her curvy little body. I want nothing more than to peel them off with my teeth.

  “Josiah, be kinder. She is giving up her chance at happiness, at a life, to do this. There must be a reason,” my mother whispers, so only I can hear.

  “I know mom, I just wasn’t expecting her,” I say frustrated. One look at her and her sad eyes makes me want to rip up the contract and drag her ass to the altar. Something in me has snapped. I have never felt this way.

  “Josiah,” My mother warns in that tone I feel like all mothers are taught the day their first child is born.

  “I get it, mom. I'll do better.”

  “You better. I like her.”

  I watch as Matilda makes her way back over to me. “Let's do this thing. Don't make me regret this, Jeb.”

  “My name is Josiah, Matilda.”

  “Yeah, we'll see.”

  She heads into the courthouse where we fill out the necessary paperwork and twenty minutes and the briefest kiss, later, she is my wife. I breathe a sigh of relief as we sign our license.

  “Lunch?” My mom asks as we exit the courthouse.

  “I'm not dressed for anything fancy,” she says at the same time I say, “I have to get to work.”

  “I can take her to your house. Where are your bags or do we need to go to your house and pick things up?” she asks Matilda.

  “It's just me. This is all I have.”

  “What?” I demand, my voice raised. My wife will never do without again. Ever. Without her telling me, I know something is not right about the fact that she has no belongings.

  “Please don't yell at me, I came to Atlanta just this morning.”

  “We will get you all fixed up. You go to work and we will go shopping,”

  “I couldn't, really. I need to find a job,” she says, turning beet red.

  “A job?” I ask.

  “Yeah, you know how the little people make money?”

  “I know what a job is, Matilda. Why do you think you need a job? As your husband, it is my duty to provide for you. Take this and buy whatever you need,” I say pulling out my wallet. She stares at the black card I am holding out to her. She just shakes her head.

  “I have some money, I can get my own clothes.”

  “You'll need a full wardrobe. Also something black for my father's funeral. Allow me this.” I demand quietly.

  She finally nods and takes the card from me. “Do you have dinner requirements?”

  “I have a cook who prepares meals that I heat up when I manage to eat at home.”

  She scrunches her nose up at that.

  “You don't approve?” I ask dryly.

  “No. I do not. But I guess I will just have to get used to it,” she says. “Are you ready Patricia?”

  “Sure thing dear,” my mother says before kissing my cheek. They take off arm in arm towards my mother's town car, leaving Delilah and I standing in front of the courthouse.

  “She told me a little about herself, things that the background check didn’t pick up. You’re going to have to tread lightly, Josiah.” Delilah tells me.

  Tread lightly? I do not know if that is something I can do, but I find myself wanting to try, for her. Which is something that has never happened before.

  “I will,” I promise Delilah. I shake her hand and head toward my car. It takes about an hour to get to my offices downtown.

  When I arrive, I find that my assistant, Tristan, has moved all my things from my office into my father’s old office. The very first thing I am doing is redecorating. Instead of sleek and professional, as the outside of the building suggests, this office looks like a brothel. It’s dark and has red lights in it, for fucks sake. I wouldn’t bother moving but it is bigger and the giant windows provide a nice view of the skyline.

  I try to focus on my work. Work that hasn’t been done in days because of the stupid will, but I find that I am unable to do so. All I can think about is Matilda. Fuck. She is gorgeous and entirely too young for me, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about her lips wrapped around my cock. I am hard in an instant. Though it is completely unprofessional, I pull my swollen, dripping cock out of my pants and stroke it. All of the filthy things I want to do to her is foremost in my mind while I jerk my fat cock. It’s not long before I am coming. God, it has been so long since I felt the need to release like this. Years.

  At four-thirty, I give up and head home. As I walk in the doorway, there are tons of shopping bags just scattered around the entryway. My annoyance is short lived when I am greeted with the scent of actual food cooking. I can’t tell what it is yet, only that it is mouthwatering.

  I round the corner into the kitchen, I am greeted by Matilda in a short, silky, red robe. She is bent over the oven. The robe has ridden up over her perfect ass. The little flash of cotton has me hard all over again. I groan, startling her.

  “You’re home. I am sorry for making myself at home. Your mother said I should,” she says turning from the stove.

  “You should. This is your home now.”

  “Why aren’t you afraid that I would steal from you or something?”

  “Are you going to steal from me?”

  “No, I would never do something like that.”

  “Then that’s good enough for me.”

  “Did you come home early today?” she asks.

  “I did. I couldn't get you off my mind.

  “Why?” She asks, staring at me.

  “I can't believe my luck that I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” She smiles.

  “I like that.”

  “Me too.” I say honestly.

  “Why don’t you go get changed? Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes.”

  “What are we having?”

  “You’ll see,” she says turning back to the oven.

  I move to my bedroom and opt for a quick shower. I pull on some basketball shorts and head back to the kitchen.

  Her little gasp tells me that she is just as affected by me as I am by her.

  “Dinner is ready,” she says looking down at the floor.

  “Excellent, I am starving,” I say.

  God, she is gorgeous.

  Chapter 4

  Tilly

  This has been the longest day of my life. Also the weirdest. After spending the entire day with his mother, I learned so much about him. And the more I learned, the more I wanted to help him. Patty is not like those mother-in-law's you hear about, she was genuinely fun and so much more, well everything, than my own mother.

  When I got here, I
dropped my bags by the door. I am not sure which of the six bedrooms he wants me to use yet, so I took a quick shower in what appears to be the guest bathroom. He hardly had any food in his house, so I stepped out again and bought some groceries. After I got back, I stripped down to a tiny pair of shorts and a short robe and headed into the kitchen to start dinner.

  Now that he’s home, I find that I want to impress him. We are stuck together, but I don’t think it has to feel like that. And fuck, his chest looks like it’s sculpted from marble. He even has that V muscle I’ve read about in romance novels.

  God, I want to lick him.

  I want to lick my husband. I like how that sounds.

  My husband.

  “Why didn't you put your things away?” He asks grabbing a beer from the fridge. “You want one?”

  “I'm not old enough to drink, Jeb.” I watch as he rolls his eyes.

  “Jesus, how old are you again?” he asks, irritated.

  “I'm nineteen,” I say quietly.

  “Fuck, you're so young, Matilda. What did you throw your life away for?” His voice starts to rise. Is he yelling at me? Oh hell no.

  “I don't think I did,” I yell back. “You don’t know shit about me. You could be the one who’s throwing their life away.”

  “I know everything I need to know about you. I paid good money to do so.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask, incredulously.

  “You know what I meant,” he says.

  “No, I don’t think that I do,” I shout, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t know my voice could get this loud.

  “I paid for a service. That end result is you,” he says, trying again.

  “You’re making it worse,” I shout. He runs his hands through his dark hair, aggressively.

  “Shit, it’s been a long day. I didn’t mean to upset you. I am sorry. I know it’s been a long day for you too. Can we just start over?” he asks. Now, I am annoyed that he is using a voice that would work on a wounded animal or a small child.

  “I don’t want to fight,” I finally say. My anger deflating with a deep breath.

  “What about your things, Matilda?” he asks.

  “I didn't know which room you wanted me in,” I say, finishing the salad and setting it on the little round table in the corner of the kitchen. There is a formal dining room, with seating for twelve, but that's a bit daunting. I turn back to the island and stare at him.

  “I want you in my bed, Matilda,” he says, seductively. “I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you, but fuck, seeing you in next to nothing is more than mouthwatering.”

  For some reason, I don't like the way he says that. My temper flares up again.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, annoyed.

  “I want you in my bed,” he repeats, calm as can be.

  “But your contract? I'm not a whore.” I am seconds away from throwing things at him. Oh, God. I should have read the fine print. It's then I realize he didn't make me sign a prenup. What was he thinking?

  “I never said that you were, you're my wife.”

  “I know, but, but, you said we could discreetly take lovers. How can we do that from your room.” I am so nervous that I am spewing shit I don't mean.

  “I changed my mind,” he says, smirking. When I wring my hands in front of me, his smile fades. “Do you really want someone else or do you already fucking have a lover?” His temper flares.

  I am so surprised by the anger in his voice, my eyes pop up to his.

  “What? No. I was thinking about you.” I shudder. I don't want him fucking someone else. “I'm sorry if I gave you that impression, I would never cheat.” Just the thought makes me nauseous.

  “You must not have read the contract too closely, wife. Now that I am married, I will never sleep with someone who isn't my wife. Who isn't you,”

  “That's lovely,” I say and I mean it. All I can think about is him falling in love with someone who isn’t me. Seeing red is an expression I didn't fully understand until this second.

  “So are you.”

  “Oh fuck. Have you seen you?” I ask. Surely, he knows how much he affects me.

  He chuckles.

  “Have you seen you?” He counters, coming closer to me, setting his unopened beer on the counter. I think he is about to touch me when I realize the oven timer is going off. He turns it off. Then his large surprisingly callused hand strokes my cheek.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs quietly.

  I smile softly. His lips touch mine, and I see stars. Our first kiss was nice, back at the courthouse, but this second kiss is incredible.

  With no thoughts on dinner, I let him pick me up. He's so big, he feels like he's surrounding me. His hard cock pokes at my belly, and I have never wanted anything more. I moan.

  “God, you are so responsive,” he growls. “Your curvy little body is going to be the death of me.”

  “We can't have that, now can we?” I moan. I don't even know who I am right now. I initiate this kiss, his tongue finds mine and I try to get closer to him. He pulls my robe open causing me to gasp.

  “Is all this for me? Those tiny silk shorts are ruined. I can feel how wet you are for me.” I can only nod.

  “I'm gonna destroy you for other men,” he growls, ripping the shorts from my body.

  “What other men?” I ask, grinding my pussy on his abs.

  “You don't know what you're asking for. I. Will. Ruin. You,” he says punctuating each word with a nip of my neck.

  “Promise?”

  His responding growl makes me even wetter.

  “You're a dirty little girl, aren't you?” he asks carrying me into his room.

  After he drops me on the bed, his face is buried in my pussy, before I even have a chance to bounce. His groan tells me he likes what he's tasting.

  “Oh God,” I scream. His scruff is hitting my thighs. I love it. When he comes up for air, his shorts are gone and his massive cock is in his hand. I watch while he strokes it back and forth. He pays attention to the head, so I file that away for later. He comes over to me and lines up his bare cock with my opening. Before I can say anything, he slams inside me. I watch his face as he realizes he just brutally took my virginity.

  “Fuck, I'm sorry, baby. How is this possible?” he questions.

  “I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I'm fine it doesn't hurt at all. You can move.” If I'm honest, his cock is huge so of course there is a bit of pain, but I like it. That's totally normal right?

  He lowers himself, kissing my lips and then my neck. He makes shallow thrusts. I try to move my hips, but he has me pinned. But like the good kind of pin. This feels like he's making love to me, not that I have anything to compare it too.

  “So tight, Matilda. So fucking tight.”

  His shallow thrusts get deeper and deeper until he has my legs in the air and my ass in his hands. My moans are turning to screams as my nails dig into his arms. “Fuck, I am going to fill your cunt.”

  I wonder if he realizes he isn't wearing a condom, but I don't care.

  “Do it, fill my pussy,” I scream. He slams into me hard as I orgasm. I can feel his cock hit my cervix and it pulsing as he comes, shouting “Tilly.” He lets my legs down and leans down kissing me with so much passion, that I can't help the tears that are falling from my eyes. He sees them and pulls out of me. I groan at the loss.

  “Fuck, baby. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn't. I promise. I'm overwhelmed. My day started off so differently. So much worse.”

  Still, above me, he lowers to his elbows and brushes my tears away.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shake my head. “No,” I say kissing his lips moving to place little kisses on his collarbone. He shudders under my touch and the look in his eyes is one of awe, maybe. I run my hands over his shoulders and as far down his back as I can reach. “Let's eat.”

  “Sounds good,” he says getting out of bed. He helps me up, handing m
e a t-shirt of his from the foot of the bed. I pull it on. It smells like him. It's comforting. He puts his shorts back on and he takes my hand, leading me back to the kitchen.

  “So which room did you choose for me?” I say, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice. He stops and whips his head around. I give him a big smile and kiss him, then dart past him. “Just kidding,” I say in a sing-song voice. He laughs and I hear him coming after me. He catches me easily, grabbing me around my waist.

  “You’re looking for trouble, little girl.”

  “Maybe,” I say shyly.

  “Baby, I got all you can handle.”

  “Bring it,” I say, turning to the stove. The salad is wilted but the stuffed pork chops are still good. I plate up while he makes me a Diet Coke and opens his beer.

  “I don't know how I forgot about the salad, but I got distracted.” He chuckles.

  “I'd apologize, but I'd be lying,” he says smirking. “I am anything but sorry about what just went down.”

  Since I don’t know what to say to that, I start eating. God, I could get used to nights like this.

  Chapter 5

  Josiah

  While this food is delicious, all I can think about is being inside of her. Her tiny body under me was almost more than I could handle. I was beyond shocked to discover she was a virgin. I was forceful and I could have hurt her, but thankfully she liked what I did to her. Her cunt wrapped around my cock is something I need repeated again and again.

  After dinner, I load the dishwasher while she puts the leftovers away.

  “Thanks for making dinner. It was delicious,” I say.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll be doing that every night, unless you want to go out. Can you call to let me know if you’ll be late? Forget I said that, that sounds positively domestic.”

  “I liked it though,” I say starting the dishwasher. I don’t think I’ve loaded a dishwasher since I’ve been on my own. I’ve always had a housekeeper.

  “Let me help you carry those bags into the bedroom,” I say. She agrees and we spend the next hour going through her purchases and organizing them in the closet. I had the closet installed with two in mind, but I had limited space for a dresser. The built-ins have everything I need. We work in silence, but it isn’t strained. By the time we are done, it’s ten-thirty. We are burying my father tomorrow. Somehow, this is just now hitting me. I need to break something, everything.