Christmas With Cassandra: A Billionaire Holiday Tale Read online

  That was Nadia’s story, but Eva was far from believing it. Indeed, she should not believe it, because one of Nadia’s biggest secrets – that she kept from even her most heterosexual female friends – was that she harbored a strong inclination for reading the most over the top erotic romances featuring one woman and one man with a very powerful cock. She had read this whole series before, in fact! Perhaps twice. Or was it three times now? Either way, that was a well-loved copy in Eva’s hands, and Nadia should have known better than to bring it by the girlfriend’s apartment. Then again, if they were ever going to move in together one day, Eva would have to get over the fact her girlfriend liked reading about women getting fucked by big appendages. Even though she was gay. Especially since she was gay, probably.

  Eva, on the other hand, was torn between mortified and disgusted. Safe to say that a woman of her mindset had never indulged in this kind of literature before. If she read naughty stories, they always included two women exploring what it meant to have plenty of orgasms together. (Which also happened to be Eva’s life goals.)

  The book landed on the coffee table as if Eva had found a bug in it. “How can you read stuff like that? You like that?”

  “What? Just because I don’t wanna do it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a finely crafted paragraph about dicks.”

  “You said a bunch of words that don’t go together.”

  “And you make it sound like I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Throughout their relationship over the past year, Eva and Nadia rarely fought over what labels they used to describe themselves. (They both identified as lesbians, although Nadia had taken a more meandering path to reach that point than Eva had.) As it so happened, however, Nadia had described herself as bisexual until a while ago. Sometimes Eva forgot that, even when Nadia talked about her past boyfriends and their dating days. Eva rarely got that jealous over the fact. After all, Nadia often followed up those conversations with how glad she was to be done with men and only involved with women now. Didn’t even matter if she talked about previous girlfriends in the same vein. All Eva heard was that her girlfriend no longer cared for men, and that was all she cared about.

  Then shit like this happened.

  Did Nadia like this kind of thing? Did she fantasize about replacing Eva with her male equivalent? Because Eva knew enough of this book now to know it was about some rich-ass billionaire with a dick of steel. God, who read that shit anyway! Sometimes Eva conveniently forgot that stuff like Fifty Shades existed. She knew enough of those types of men in real life. Books may have been fantasy, but they certainly didn’t get the supposedly realistic parts right!

  Panic settled in the back of her mind. That had to be it. Nadia wanted to break up and go after a man instead. She had her taste of this rich living, and now it was time to stop playing around with women and go after the real big fish.

  Nadia caught the look on her girlfriend’s face and decided to put it to rest, for everyone’s sake. “Don’t give me that look. You have nothing to be threatened of. It’s a book.” Nadia pulled the book away and took it with her into the bathroom. Wait! What was she going to do with it in there? Was that the bath starting? Who said she could go take a bath with a naughty book? What was Eva supposed to do?

  Answer her phone, apparently.

  The familiar chimes of Kathryn’s incoming phone number brought Eva out of her stupor. Great. Just what she needed! Someone to rant to.

  “You’ll never believe what my girlfriend did,” Eva said in greeting. “Go on. Guess what she did.”

  Whatever Kathryn was going to say was lost to the universe. “She cooked something in your kitchen and showed you a whole new world of culinary arts? It’s called a crockpot, Eva. I gave you one for your birthday last year.”

  “What? No! Why the hell are you bringing that up?”

  “No idea. Why are you answering my phone call with such terse words?”

  “Because my girlfriend is reading dirty romance novels and I’m starting to wonder if she’s been replaced with a changeling.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Women read romance novels. Haven’t you ever read one?”

  “Yeah, the gay kind!”

  “Oh.” Was Kathryn laughing? Yes. Yes, she was, although Eva would continue to ignore it in favor of feeling sorry for herself. Too bad for Eva her best friend had been given a powerful weapon in the battle against Eva’s ego. “So it’s like that, huh? You’re all fucked up because you caught your girlfriend reading a dirty romance novel, complete with cocks battering up pussies.”

  Only Kathryn would say something like that to Eva’s face (or directly over the phone in this case.) Because why wouldn’t she? Taking digs at Eva’s insecurities was one of the purest forms of entertainment offered to a woman like Kathryn.

  “You don’t understand.” Maybe if Eva talked slowly as if she were conversing with a dumb child her point would get across. (Yeah, right.) “She’s not just reading any ol’ porno you can get off Amazon. She’s reading that one.” No, she couldn’t even bring herself to say it. Not tonight, probably not tomorrow. Definitely not by her next birthday.

  “Fifty Shades?”

  Eva groaned into her receiver. By now she was sitting on the edge of the couch where Nadia had been only moments before. While Kathryn talked of that time she and Eva got super drunk and read Fifty Shades of Grey out loud to one another and then pretended to act out the scenes (including the tampon one, because what two drunk women acted out scenes from that book and did not include the tampon one?) Eva attempted to figure out how to best express her ire. Without shouting.

  “No. The other one.”

  “What other one? Do you know how many books like that one there are out there? Of varying quality?”

  Like Eva needed reminding! “It’s called Fucked by You or something of that stupid nature.”

  “Oh. Oh my God.” Kathryn was borderline cackling now. Given another two seconds, she would be guffawing like an ugly goat. “Do you mean the Crossfire trilogy? Girl, you’re boned. Your girlfriend’s leaving you for one of our billionaire brethren in about two more weeks after reading that epic fantasy tale.”

  “Don’t remind me!”

  “Calm down. I’m just joking. And mostly making fun of you, because you’re the one being dumb about it.”

  Eva? Being dumb? Yeah, right. Didn’t Kathryn understand what was going on here? No red-blooded ragin’ lesbian wanted to catch her girlfriend reading a book like that. Let alone in secret. (Or out in the living room in this case.) “I am not being dumb. You don’t understand because you’re straight.”

  “Don’t pull that bullshit with me. I’ve read those books. They’re hot.”

  “You’re not helping!”

  “They’re hot but they’re pure fantasy, dumbass! You think a real guy can get it up three times in half an hour? You think any woman out there actually wants to be pounded for three hours straight and constantly run on four hours of sleep because her boyfriend can’t stop fuckin’ the piss out of her?”

  “I wouldn’t know, asshole.”

  “The answer is no. Great fantasy. Horrible in practice. Trust me, I’ve tested this extensively.”

  “Okay, that’s great, but you don’t get what’s going on here. My girlfriend – my girlfriend, the big lesbian – is reading those books.”

  “Didn’t she used to date guys?”

  “That doesn’t matter!”

  “Sure it does! Girl, I could fall in love with a bunch of lesbians tomorrow and still be turned on by straight porn. Doesn’t mean I’m any less in love with the bunch of lesbians.”

  “Wait. How many lesbians?”

  “You’re like five on your own some days.”

  Whatever that meant! Although if Eva thought long and hard enough about it, surely she would figure out that meant she was bigheaded and privileged as fuck. Not that she would think too hard about it. “Just try to understand why I’m not excited about finding my girlfriend read
ing that stuff. Just try, Kathryn.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re threatened and frightened that she’s going to dump your high-maintenance butch-ass for some guy we went to Winchester with.” What Kathryn didn’t include were the phrases “who doesn’t make half as much money as you” and “doesn’t make as sweet as love as you.” She would have said them, too, but sometimes when Eva was like this she had a habit of taking such phrases completely the wrong way. Mostly by twisting them to mean that Kathryn was somehow interested in her like that. If Eva were threatened by Nadia reading dirty heterosexual novels? Then Nadia should be slightly threatened that Eva had a quashed crush on Kathryn since the time they were both in high school. The only thing that kept them from trying a romantic relationship was the fact Kathryn couldn’t live without dick, no matter the quality. That would put a damper on any lesbian’s dating spirit.

  “Instead of being offended that she’s daring to read fantastical, escapist romances,” Kathryn continued, “maybe you should try finding out what turns her on about them and start delivering.”

  “And if the answer is ragin’ boners?”

  “Then give her some ragin’ boners, duh!”

  Eva pinched the bridge of her nose between two anxious fingers. “Why the hell are you calling me again?”

  “Right! I had a reason for calling you!” At least Kathryn was done badgering her best friend about her love life and the insecurities within. In her defense, however, it had been a long time since she had the chance to do that to Eva. Usually it went the other way around. “So I just heard the juiciest gossip last night. Do you remember Cassandra Welsh?”

  “Who?” Eva was so rattled from recent events that the name barely registered in her mind. Soon enough, however, she remembered a waifish brunette who was half princess, half heartbreaker. “Oh. Her.” One of the only women to ever stab Eva right in the fuckin’ heart. “What about her? She finally marrying some dude?” Could this day get any bitterer?

  “Don’t know about that, but I hear she’s coming back into town for the Christmas gala you and I have already RSVP’d for with our partners.”

  Did Eva hear that right, or did she need to start cleaning out her ears again? “Are you kidding me? Cassandra Welsh? Showing her tragic face around here again? Who the fuck did you hear that from? Was it even a credible source?” The idea that Cassandra would ever come back to the city was hilarious. The last Eva heard anything about her, Cassandra was crying herself to sleep every night and having her family pass it off as “hysterics.” Rumors abounded, mostly that she had a miscarriage (or was coerced into having an abortion she didn’t want) and the baby daddy was one of the biggest names in town. Other rumors suggested that she had cancer or some other debilitating auto-immune disorder that barely left her functioning most days. Eva preferred the rumor that she had bought a ranch out in California and now spent her days turning it into a personal spa and male-harem palace. Hey, Eva may not have understood the appeal of men, but if a woman was going to be into them, they at least better be serving their woman until their dying day.

  “Does Caroline count as a credible source? Because she’s the one who called me after ten last night to blab about it.”

  “Caroline! Might as well ask her if she heard it from Michelle Obama, because she would probably lie and say she did.”

  “She had a credible source herself. I’m inclined to believe it, since the Welshes are a big reason that gala even happens.”

  “Yes, but we conveniently forget Cassandra exists.”

  “You do because she decided you were her #1 experiment. I didn’t even have to tell Ian that without it being one of the first things he asked when I announced that I was going to call you.”

  “I’m sure your boyfriend did. He spends a lot of time up in my sex life.” There were worse things to complain about, though. “And don’t remind me about that asshole. Either of them.”

  “Sorry about what she did to you, kid, but that’s life. You might be seeing her again. At least this time you’ll have a super hot steady girlfriend to show off at the gala to make her jealous. Maybe.”

  Kathryn could be glib all she wanted, but the fact remained that she wasn’t the one who got stepped on like a cockroach once Cassandra decided she couldn’t be with a woman anymore. How had she put it? “I’m sorry, Eva, but it’s just not working. You don’t have the… protective physique… I’m looking for.” Which was code for “Bitch, you are not male enough for me.” Because every lesbian loved hearing that from a woman who turned out to not really be queer after all. What better kiss-off than to make sure said lesbian knew how inferior she was because she could never deliver like a real man?

  Which brought Eva’s train of thought right back to the original terminus station. That book.

  But nobody was on Eva’s side right now. Not Nadia, not Kathryn, and definitely not Cassandra if she really were coming back into town. That fuckface. Really. Three weeks of making out in cabanas and having sex in some of the swankiest locations around the world – because Princess Cassandra demanded no less – and Eva wasn’t protective enough? What else had Cassandra wanted? Because Eva spent most of their dates with one arm slung around her girlfriend’s shoulder and constantly telling her she could have whatever she wanted. That woman was a pillow-biter through and through. Nothing like Nadia, who was actually offended when Eva tried to push too much money on her.

  Speaking of Nadia… was she still in the bath? She probably wouldn’t be happy to hear about this Cassandra woman. Wait. Did she know who Cassandra was?

  (The answer was yes. Nadia had a front seat to one of the biggest fallouts Cassandra ever had with a man… but we shall get to that later.)

  “So to recap,” Kathryn said with a giddy sigh, “You’re a jealous fuck and Cassandra is coming back for Christmas. Does that cover it?”

  “You called me just to talk about that shit. Sometimes I can’t believe you.”

  “Whelp, I’ll leave you to your lesbian drama, then. Have fun swindling your girlfriend away from exploding cocks.”

  “Don’t ever put that image in my head again.”

  “I live to disgust.” Kathryn hung up a moment later without any other form of farewell. At this point in their friendship, such goodbyes were not necessary in their phone conversations. In fact, Eva had been considering hanging up on Kathryn without a word anyway. She sort of deserved it.

  Eva stewed on her couch for a few minutes, listening for signs of life in the bathroom as Nadia splashed in water and kept reading her damnable book. Eva wasn’t a proponent of book burning, but nevertheless, she was seriously considering it today. She had been wanting to run the stove anyway…

  But Kathryn had been right. (Kathryn was often right, but Eva would rarely admit it.) She needed to not see this as a threat to her womanhood and sexuality, but as a chance to get to know Nadia’s predilections better. Did she want her relationship to stagnate out of jealousy? Or did she want to embrace a chance to figure out what really turned Nadia on, whether she was willing to admit it or not?

  Eva was not interested in doing it, but she went over to the part of her bookshelf cleared off for her girlfriend’s use. She had never really looked at it before, assuming it was more historical nonfiction and other such boring flimflam. Sure enough, she found some well-used copies of other books of the series in question and flipped open the first one that touched her finger.

  Ew.

  Ew.

  Of course Eva had opened up to a sex scene. Why wouldn’t she!

  One would never question Eva’s involvement with men in her life. Looking at her was often enough to guess that, no, she had never been with a man before, nor had she ever wanted to be. That wasn’t to say she was completely ignorant regarding how their bodies worked. Kathryn talked about dicks and what they did often enough, and Eva had been to the sex clubs so many times that she had seen more men having sex than most run-of-the-mill straight women. (Usually said men were submissive in nature,
but a guy coming was a guy coming, after all.) So Eva was fairly confident when she said, “This can’t be realistic!”

  No, it wasn’t. That was the point, wasn’t it? Men didn’t come so often and so fastidiously. Not without serious issue. Nor were they often altruistic enough to make sure a woman came just as many times – Eva had heard those complaints since she was a kid and too young to understand what sex even was. Although Eva had no interest in continuing to read this riveting tale of sex and money, she quickly realized that Nadia’s attraction to such books probably wasn’t in the sex (or so Eva would tell herself) but in the raw emotion expressed between these two people when they were in the heat of the moment. For Evangeline Warren, randy woman about town and general “man hater,” that was a pretty big realization to acknowledge. Not that she wanted to.

  Even so, there were things to take away from this.

  Eva put the book back and walked up to the bathroom door. After lightly knocking on it – and after trying to handle, which was locked – she cooed, “You okay in there, dove? Because I’ve got some apologies to make.”

  “Don’t bother me! I’m busy with my book boyfriend!”

  Eva was about to get incensed if Nadia didn’t watch it. “Never mind, then. Forget I offered to apologize.” Maybe Nadia would be calmed with some take-out. There was a fancy Chinese place down the street that didn’t usually deliver, but always made an exception for a billionaire heiress who wanted some fucking chow mein right the shit now. “Next you’re going to tell me he has a bigger dick than me!”

  “Sure does! Biggest around! Stays hard for half an hour no matter how many times it comes!”

  Was this the theme today? Apparently. “We’ll see about that,” Eva grumbled. She walked into her bedroom alcove and searched her lockable nightstand drawer for a present she had been saving for Christmas.

  It was meant to be a gag gift. The sort of sex toy Eva would present her girlfriend on Christmas Eve with a big laugh coming out of her throat. Because it was ridiculous, right? Who gave their girlfriend a strap-on that promised to ejaculate whatever you put into it?