A Villain for Christmas (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 2)

Billing Conundrum

This is a very silly, bookworm-ish chapter... and if none of the references and allusions makes sense to you, simply ignore them. I was just feeling a tad gamesome!

K. xx

***

Panic kicked in after about ten minutes. Firstly, they were in a library! The sacrilege of it!

Secondly, this time their 'speech therapy session' felt different. It might have something to do with their recumbent position. That must be what a plump lardy banger felt reposing on a mattress of scorching mash! Except, bangers probably didn't have habdabs about their jelly belly - and just now, his massive hand had slipped under her button up, onto her side rolls! And those were bountiful! How did he manage it that smoothly?! She always tucked her tops into her - as high-waisted as possible - bottoms exceptionally securely.

And then his other palm lay on her bottom - and squeezed. Yeah, that did it! Billie floundered, her ears ringing thanks to acute anxiety flooding her bloodstream with epinephrine.

"No, no... No! Not that!" she muttered. "I can't– I don't– Not for me, this– Maybe it's– not for me!"

Notably, he stopped doing everything he was doing - including the playful little nips and kisses on her neck - after her first 'no.' Still, one of his heavy arms was on her lower back, weighing on her; and she gasped, gulping air with an open mouth, and pushed away from him.

He once again caught her - this time, a couple centimetres above the floor. She hung in his arms like a fresh hay bale in the combiner's claws - and then he carefully deposited her on her backside and jerked his hands away from her, lifting them in a surrender gesture.

Billie pushed from the floor with her hands and feet, backing away from him like a crayfish.

"I'm sorry, I just–"She started mumbling, her voice slowly gaining strength; and soon she was as much as hollering. "That's just– too much! I have nothing against kissing. It's consensual, and it's to help your stammering. You like the whole business, I properly didn't mind it either. But this–" She gestured in the air on the level of his torso. "No!" She frantically whipped her head from side to side. "No, not doing this. I'm sorry, I reckon you just need a holiday plaything, someone to frolic about with for a fortnight or so, and Heaven knows why you'd choose me - but I'm not doing it!"

She was panting so loudly one would think there was a bulldog in the room. Given, that had been more words that she'd normally utter in an hour. He sat on the sofa, without moving, his hair standing around his head - did she do that?! - his eyes attentively studying her. Billie swallowed a knot in her throat.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and he shook his head.

"D-don't apologise." His tone was dark. He rubbed the underside of his jaw with his knuckles. "I sh-should. I m-mis– misunderstood."

"No! I mean, yes, but also... no?" Billie gave out an awkward laugh. "I honestly don't know anything about this. But I still want to keep helping you!" she rushed to reassure him. "I reckon, if kissing–" She stumbled over her words. "If kissing helps you, I'm here for you."

He tilted his head and examined her some more. Billie tried to delegate her emotions with a shaky, unsure smile - but clearly it was unconvincing. He frowned and now looked like so many of the promo photos from his films.

Billie clumsily shifted, rose, and patted her thighs, straightening her bottoms - and her thoughts a bit.

"How about this?" she said and stretched her hand to him. "Let's be friends, alright? If kissing makes you feel better about being at Fleckney, I volunteer. And if you don't feel like it, or you find someone who helps better–" Oh, that didn't feel nice. Not at all. What's with that? "Good for you," she finished in an unnaturally cheery voice. "Yes, I think this sounds about right. We're friends who work together for a couple of weeks."