Page 8 of The Billionaire's Naughty List

This is easily the weirdest conversation I've ever had. And that includes the bizarre birds and the bees convo my older brother started that my poor dad had to finish. Not that I didn't grow up seeing cows and dogs and pretty much every other animal on the ranch mating.

It's not that thisconversationis uncomfortable, but because I'm fully clothed. In a shower. With the man who I thought I could never have. The man who told me there could be nothing between us. And as much as I hated it, I pushed my feelings for him down deep and kept on with my life. Because that's what good girls do. Right?

But here he is, telling me that my feelings aren’t imaginary. That I’m not dreaming this connection between us. That he does, in fact, want me the way I want him.

The Dad problem still remains, though.

I mean, my father and I don't really talk about dating and partners and stuff like that. Not since the previously mentioned weird birds-and-bees discussion. Honestly, it's a miracle I didn't turn out to be a total tomboy.

I'm sure Dad expects me to settle down and pop out a few kids. Someday. Because again, that's what good girls do.

My lips part as I stare at Elliot, a vision of sweet little babies with his eyes and my nose and the cutest little grins?—

I shake my head. That's a dangerous line of thought. This whole thing is dangerous. Mostly to my heart.

"Lily—" he prods from his spot at my feet.

Right. He asked a question.Why am I on OnlySantas?

"Sorry. Lost in thought." Which is not unusual for me.

"You could show me."

Now my ears are failing me because there’s no way he just said ‘show me.’

"What?"

"If you won't tell me why you're on the site, show me what you do there."

How does he make that statement sound both earnest and mischievous at the same time? The corner of his mouth pulls up in a sexy smirk. Does he know what that little hitch does to me? It's such a small expression, subtle to everyone, perhaps, but me. I see the subtext because I've seen it before, hoping every time I was reading it right. A flirt without flirting. A question without questioning.

His cellphone rings a familiar tune and we both freeze.

"That's my dad," I whisper-yell.

Unease settles in my stomach, which is weird because I've thought of being with Elliot a thousand times and never once did my mind consider how weird it'd be if my dad interrupted us.

Elliot’s lips twitch. "Let me worry about him."

Oh…that's so sexy. Confidence radiates off him and my shoulders drop from my ears. I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good to be taken care of.

I nod. "Okay…"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone as he steps out of the shower.

"You're going to talk to him right now?"

What about our conversation? What about the touching and the heat in his eyes?

I sag with disappointment and confusion.

“Hold that thought, kitten.”

I watch, jaw dropped slightly, as he taps the screen and lifts the phone to his ear. “Hey Colt.”

All my breath leaves me, because watching him is so much more erotic when I’m standing in his shower, my outfit leaving nothing to the imagination. He’s talking to my dad but his gaze is locked on me.

“Yeah, I was just getting into the shower. Oh? I hadn’t seen?—”

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