Ambition: A Dark Billionaire Romance Anthology (26 page)

I
actually gave
Patrick his 'present' five days later, to preserve the surprise. I'd set things up precisely as I wanted, decking out my bedroom with scented candles and changing the sheets to a set of black satin that I thought would look wonderful against Patrick's pale skin. On the pillow, I set a small box, while I wore my lingerie underneath a plain looking bath robe and cotton pajama pants, although I did brush out my hair and styled it up a little bit. Checking myself in the mirror, I thought I still looked "plain" enough to fool Patrick for a little while. I didn't normally wear a lot of makeup around the house, and Patrick didn't feel the need for me to wear it anyway.

I found Patrick in the entertainment room, happily playing with Andrea, who was lying on her back in the middle of the carpet. It was heartwarming to watch my future husband smiling blissfully while tickling the little infant and allowing her to grab his fingers and yank. I watched for a minute until I felt a presence behind me, and turned my head to see Sophie, who was still wearing the same style of casual house clothes she'd worn the entire time she'd been home. She had told me that she was going to get back into shape, but that it would wait until after the holidays. Considering she'd just had a baby, I thought it was a well deserved vacation.

Sophie leaned in and rested her chin on my shoulder, watching the two in the room. "Hey, little early for the bathrobe and PJ's, isn't it?"

I smiled and shook my head, turning around to face her. "Not quite," I whispered, pulling one side of my robe out a bit to show her what I had on underneath. "Think I can pull it off?"

Sophie laughed quietly and leaned in. "Just go easy on the poor man. He's not going to last long after he sees you in that.”

"Then I'll just have to take some time and let him recover for rounds two and three," I responded. I wasn't lying either, I was more than ready for it. "You want your daughter back?"

Sophie nodded and placed her hand on my chest, just above my heart, looking into my eyes to confirm something, then smiling. "Sure. Just, give me a minute before you two get started. Mark was planning on getting into the gym, I don't want your evening ruined by pounding heavy metal and I doubt he wants to lift to Barry White songs. I'll make sure he takes his iPod."

"Thanks. Who knows, maybe we can make magic tonight, you know?"

Sophie nodded and arranged my bathrobe, making sure the surprise was hidden well. “Maybe. But don't worry about that and just enjoy yourself.”

I nodded and the two of us went into the entertainment room, getting Patrick's attention. "Hey Patrick, having fun?"

"She's amazing," Patrick told Sophie, a simple expression of joy on his face. "That hair, those eyes, she's just so cute."

“She is, but she's also due for a bath," Sophie said, "especially since we had a missed poop this afternoon. So I'll need to take her from you if you don't mind."

"Not at all, go ahead," Patrick said with a chuckle. Turning his head to me, he just kept grinning. "The advantages of being the uncle-ish. Play time is mine, diapers and bath time isn't. What's up, sweetie?"

"I have something for you, can you come with me?" I asked. "A late Christmas present."

"Sure," Patrick said, his smile staying easily on his face. His arm wasn't stiff any longer, he'd been stretching it and working it lightly in the gym, one of the reasons I'd waited the extra few days. That and to let him forget after Mark kind of half gave it all away. I understood why, he needed a decent segue to get Patrick off of his guilt trip, but it did slightly tick me off for half a day. Only half a day though, considering Mark did save his life.

Taking Patrick's hand, I led him through the halls of Mount Zion. "Have you enjoyed the holidays?" I asked. "I know you wanted to get that vote in on your motion, but after what happened...."

"Yeah, I didn't mind at all," Patrick said. After his kidnapping, we'd used Andrea's birth as an excuse to delay his motion on the Union bidding scam until the first meeting of the new calendar year, on January fifth. We couldn't exactly say it was because he'd been taken hostage and rescued by a masked vigilante who happened to be my housekeeper. "As for all this, it has been like a dream come true. All those years in the homes, living in orphanages, Christmas was both the best and worst time of the year for me."

"How so?" I asked. We were in the kitchen and I paused to grab a glass of water.

"During the Christmas season, a lot of what we called the do-gooders would come around, handing out gifts or taking us kids on outings, stuff like that. It was about the only time of year until I got to running with the wrong crowd that I was able to wear new clothes or sometimes new shoes. One year I even got a sweet pair of Nikes for all of five hours until one of the older kids robbed me for them. There was lots of good food, you could check out the malls and not feel like a bum because there was a chance you could actually get something there, stuff like that.”

"But it was the loneliest time also. It was like that period, from about December fifteenth until the twenty fourth, was hectic, full of things to do. Christmas morning the staff would hand out the gifts that they'd been saving from the biggest charities, and we'd all have a big meal at lunch time, ham and mashed potatoes, gravy, the whole works. It was bigger than Thanksgiving even. But then after that, it was like all the adults and charity people said to themselves, 'Well, we checked off that box, on to more important stuff,' and the place emptied out. Minimal staffing, and lots of kids just sitting around bored. It was lonely as hell, and after the staff left, things always went a little
Lord of the Flies
. The good stuff was stolen by the older or stronger kids, while the weaker ones ended up with little or nothing. I got good at sneaking a marker out of the laundry room during the run up to Christmas in order to write my name in anything I got in someplace I could then point out but hide later when I went to school. Shirt tails, inside waistbands of jeans, stuff like that."

"I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories," I said, putting my glass away. I wrapped my arms around him, laying my head on his chest. My heart was near breaking, and I knew that I was making the right decision.

"Don't worry, it made me who I am today. And I guess it was what made this holiday so perfect," Patrick said, brushing the hair out of my face and kissing my forehead. "Tabby, in this house, I have a family. I have you, I have Sophie and Andrea and even Mark. I couldn't imagine a more perfect holiday, one filled with love and warmth and happiness. Only thing missing was a fireplace. Maybe we can have one in the new place. Have you decided if you want it to be an extension or a separate building?"

"Not yet," I said. "Come on, I really do have something to show you."

We walked the rest of the way to my bedroom, where I opened the door. Patrick noticed the new sheets, but didn't say anything as the candles weren't lit yet. I wanted him to be blown away, but disguised the situation as best as I could prior to my reveal. "There, on the pillow," I said.

Patrick went over, and I quickly closed the door behind me and undid the belt of my robe while his back was turned. He picked up the box and opened it. Inside was my first gift, a one of a kind creation. Black anodized titanium gave the foundation for inlaid polished jade.

"What's this?" he asked as he turned, his mouth dropping open and the ring tumbling from his fingers as he saw me in my lingerie. "Tabby...."

"That, my love, is your engagement ring," I said, walking over. I knelt on the carpet in front of him, picking up the ring and taking his hand. "I know you already did this, and this is a bit out of tradition, but Patrick McCaffery, would you marry me?"

Patrick could only stare at me, his eyes filling with happiness, and something else filling as well that was now right in my face. "Yes, of course," he said. "I want nothing more in the whole world."

I took the opportunity to slide the ring on his finger, where it was a perfect fit. Thankfully, having a 'brother' like Mark who is hyper vigilant and also very intelligent, allowed me to get Patrick's ring size without having to ask him. Taking his hand, I placed it on my hair before reaching for the waistband of his pants. "Now, last time I did this I made a huge mistake," I said, undoing the snap and working his zipper down. "I don't want to make it again."

"Never," Patrick said. I was surprised when he knelt down in front of me, despite his cock already trying to push out of his underwear. "Tabby, before we do this, promise me something."

"What's that?"

“Don’t hold back on me," he said, taking my hand and placing it on his heart. "I can't always promise I can be everything you need, but I will promise you every bit of me."

"That's more than I need," I replied, kissing him. My hands squashed against his chest, and I let my desire fill me as we kissed, closer to being married than we'd ever been before. I was trapped, unable and unwilling to move as he embraced me, his strong arms holding me helpless on my knees. We'd been denying ourselves the release of intimacy with each other, and while it had been worth it, it also meant there was a lot of pent up passion involved.

Patrick lifted me up like I weighed nothing, his arms holding me tightly as he turned and set me on the bed. "I want to look at you," he said, "before I tear it off."

"Don't, please," I asked, covering myself. "I want to save this one."

Patrick grinned down at me, his eyes full of fire and smoldering lust. "That's fine," he said, taking my hand in his lightly and laying it next to me. “I’m sure we can find something I can tear off another time?”

"Deal," I said with a light giggle. It was sexy, feeling myself under his eyes. I've had lovers look at me before, in so many different ways. I've had ones that looked at me like I was a piece of meat. They never got a second shot. I've had ones that looked like someone on the beginning of a great adventure. I've had lovers who even looked at me like I was some sort of divine being, which is actually a lot creepier and less sexy than it sounds.

Patrick looked at me instead with warmth, love, affection, admiration, and yes, a big heaping measure of desire thrown in. He took in all of me as I pulled my heels up on the bed, butterflying my knees so that he could look at everything. "I bought this just for you," I said, my nipples already aching and pushing against the silk of the top just from the kiss and our bodies touching. "I don't know anything else I could give you that means as much."

"It's all I ever want," Patrick said, reaching out with a finger to trace the swell of my breasts against the silk. "The imperfect, beautiful, crazy you."

I'd never been called imperfect and crazy at the same time and had it feel like such a turn-on. "So I take it you like it?”

"Should I show you?" he asked me, reaching for his shirt. I nodded, smiling as he peeled his shirt over his head. His work with Sophie and Mark for the previous four months had paid off. He was in good shape before, but now he was ripped. My heart hammered in my chest as he pushed his pants the rest of the way down, his cock bouncing as it cleared the waistband of his shorts. "As you can see, you have quite the effect."

"I can appreciate that," I said, reaching out with a foot to fondle him with my toes. I'm not a foot fetishist, but it was fun to trace his cock with my toes. "How about you get some oil from the dresser?"

"You prepared well," he teased, going over and getting the oil. "Hmmm, odorless and hypoallergenic. High quality stuff."

"Only the best for the sexiest man I know," I teased, squeezing some into my hands. I let it warm for a little bit before I massaged it into his cock, looking up expectantly at him as he closed his eyes. "If you need to come, go ahead. I know we've been waiting for so long, I'm not planning on stopping until the sun comes up or we both are fulfilled."

"Tabby....."

I knew what I was doing, but I wanted it so much. I knew that while Patrick had masturbated, we both had over the past months, it was nothing like the feeling of when we made love. It's kind of like eating at a multi-star restaurant, and eating your home cooking. You can have chicken both ways, but let's face it, eating at the restaurant is so much better sometimes.

I couldn't believe he lasted as long as he did. I stroked and pumped his cock in my hands, occasionally leaning forward to lick the head, but not too much. The massage oil may have been hypoallergenic, but it wasn't tasteless, a thing to remember for the next time. Still, when his hips started twitching under my hands, I knew he was close. I'd have let him cover my face, I know a lot of guys like that, but the angle wasn't quite right for his pleasure. Instead, I pointed him in between my breasts, into the deep cleavage created by the silk, and let him go. He came in what looked and felt like torrents, splattering all over my upper chest with seven strong spurts.

"My, what a strong cock you have," I teased, looking up at him. "I'm so messy, I need to clean up real fast,” I said, scurrying off to the bathroom to quickly wash up.

As soon as I walked out of the bathroom door, Patrick grabbed me into an embrace and carried me to the bed. He kissed down my neck and to my breasts, sucking and nipping at the tender spots near my pulse points that had my hips trying to lift off the bed if he hadn't been pinning my legs. Instead, my hands stroked through his hair and across his upper back as our eyes met. I wasn’t sure how he’d react given that he’d literally just came there minutes beforehand, even though I did just wash myself. But it didn’t seem to phase him. ”You are the perfect man," I whispered as he kept kissing. "Never, never doubt that."

"Not perfect, but maybe together we can make perfect," he replied, finding the edge of my top and pausing. "Do you want it on or off?"

"Off please," I replied, scooting back and arching my lower back. He pulled the top off, dragging the silk over my skin so that my nipples were erotically tortured under the slow progress of the slick fabric. I was left in just my panties, which were already soaked with my anticipation of what was to come.