Hope's First Christmas (Brie's Submission Book 19) Read online

  Copyright © 2019 Red Phoenix

  Kindle Edition

  www.redphoenixauthor.com

  Hope’s First Christmas: Brie’s Submission

  19th Book of the Brie Series

  Cover by Shanoff Designs

  Formatted by BB Books

  Phoenix symbol by Nicole Delfs

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Description

  USA Today bestselling author Red Phoenix brings you the magic of the season in this heartfelt and sizzling holiday romance.

  Nothing is more enchanting than the wonder of a child on Christmas morning…

  But Hope is not the only one who will experience the magic of the holidays.

  Sir may not care for the season, but he enjoys challenging his beloved sub.

  In the absence of extended family, you turn to your friends.

  Unwrapping gifts will take on a whole new meaning at the SubmissiveTraining Center.

  And Santa has never been hotter!

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Description

  Coming Next

  About the Author

  Newsletter

  Join My Friends of Red Phoenix Group

  Her First Word

  New Insight

  A Confession

  Ghost from the Past

  Christmas Kittens

  Kinky Eve

  Holiday Scenes

  Unexpected Surprises

  Sexy Santa

  Christmas Morn

  Russian Gifts

  The Gathering

  Rumble in the Hills

  Warm Afterglow

  Other Red Phoenix Books

  Connect with Red on Substance B

  Her First Word

  Brie’s heart started racing when she heard someone frantically pounding on the door. Then she heard the familiar accent of her favorite Russian as he called out, “Open up, radost moya!”

  Rushing to the door, she swung it open and was shocked to see a giant pine tree on her front porch. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a Christmas tree,” Rytsar stated with a laugh as he carried the huge tree through the doorway with the help of his men and headed into the great room.

  “You can’t put that there, Rytsar! Sir hates Christmas trees.”

  “Moye solntse needs one.”

  Brie laughed, pointing at the miniature bonsai tree with twinkly lights on the coffee table. “But we already have a tree.”

  He looked at it, snorting with amusement.

  Rytsar’s men had already set the tree into the stand they had brought and stood back. Rytsar pulled a switchblade from his back pocket and quickly cut the strings, unleashing the voluminous boughs.

  Brie’s eyes widened when she saw it fully unfurled and let out a gasp. “It’s so huge…”

  Rytsar smirked, nodding at the tree. “That’s what she said.”

  Brie put her hands to her mouth, trying not to giggle.

  He looked back at her confidently and winked.

  “Sir isn’t going to let this tree stay,” she warned him.

  Rytsar faced Brie, putting his hand over his heart. “I have not felt this kind of joy for Christmas in ages. My brother would not be so cruel as to rip it away from me over a simple pine tree.”

  Brie looked back at the giant tree. “There is nothing simple about that tree, Rytsar.”

  Shadow suddenly appeared and walked straight up to it. After taking several sniffs of the lower boughs, he opened his mouth and pulled his lips back, making Brie laugh.

  Apparently satisfied with the smell of the natural pine, Shadow disappeared under the boughs and proceeded to climb up the trunk, each limb shaking under his weight.

  “Shadow…no!” Brie cried.

  “Let him be,” Rytsar assured her. “The tree is strong and the stand will hold.”

  Halfway up, Shadow settled on a branch and started purring as he looked at them from within the branches.

  “Even the kot approves.”

  “I don’t think Sir is going to care, no matter who likes it.”

  Rytsar grinned. “Maxim, get the ornaments.”

  “You bought ornaments, too? Okay, now you’re just being cocky,” Brie laughed.

  “Just a few,” he answered. “They are made of papier-mâché so that moye solntse and the kot cannot break them. The varnish used to protect them is safe for babies and pets.”

  “You’re so thoughtful.”

  Maxim came back with a wooden box and handed it to Rytsar. He opened it and smiled as he picked up an ornament to show Brie.

  “Rytsar…” she murmured in awe. “This is incredible.”

  Brie took the large egg with a winter scene of Russia painted on it. Looking closer she gasped. “Oh, my goodness! Is that my cabin?”

  He grinned. “It is…”

  Each ornament had a painted winter scene of Russia that Brie was personally familiar with, from the legendary Red Square and the iconic Saint Basil’s Cathedral, to Rytsar’s family’s mansion and the modern skyline where Rytsar lived in his apartment in Moscow part of the year. Each scene brought back memories, but her favorite by far was the cabin by the lake. The tree where she’d been tied was painted prominently on the front of the ornament.

  Brie looked at him. “I love them all.”

  He kissed her on the forehead before giving her the cabin ornament. “Hang it on the tree, radost moya.”

  She almost felt naughty as she placed it on the tree, knowing how Sir would react when he saw this giant pine tree in their home. But, when she looked at the ornament hanging on the bough, her heart was filled with joy.

  Damn, she loved Christmas!

  This was her favorite time of the year, even though she knew Sir didn’t care for the holiday.

  Brie heard Hope wake up from her nap and went to get her. While she was walking back with Hope in her arms, she heard Sir’s voice loud and clear.

  “What the hell, Durov?”

  “Do not feel you must thank me, moy droog. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

  He growled, “You know how I feel about those damn trees.”

  “I do and I felt the same, but…” Rytsar looked at Brie as she walked into the room with Hope. “I feel differently now.”

  “We have a perfectly acceptable one,” Sir said, pointing to the bonsai.

  Rytsar gave it a side glance. “Really?”

  “If you need a tree so badly, why not put it in your own damn house?”

  “I already have one, and it’s bigger.”

  “Of course, it is.” Sir shook his head, taking Hope from Brie’s arms. “But I won’t be pressured into ruining the aesthetics of the house or dealing with pine needles littering the floor.”

  “Isn’t the smell divine?” Rytsar commented, ignoring Sir’s ire.

  “I think so,” Brie added meekly.

  Sir smirked, shaking his head slowly as he stared at the tree.

  Hope reached her hand out and Sir suddenly frowned, leaning forward as he looked into the boughs. “Is that the cat?”

  “Da. Even the kot approves,”
Rytsar stated as if that was enough to convince him.

  Hope’s attention shifted to the lone ornament on the tree and she started babbling excitedly, grasping with her little fingers.

  Sir obliged her and knelt so she could touch it. Hope tapped the ornament and giggled as it swung on the branch.

  “Damn,” he muttered to himself.

  Rytsar looked over at Brie confidently.

  Kneeling beside him, Brie pointed out the scene painted on the egg. “Look. It’s my cabin in the snow.”

  Sir glanced up at Rytsar. “Clever.”

  He shrugged. “It was nothing, comrade. I wanted a part of Russia to be reflected on your tree. It’s the least I could do.”

  “Spreading it on thick there, old friend.”

  Rytsar’s voice suddenly became serious. “I need this, brother.”

  Sir stood up and turned to face him. Brie saw the same haunted look in Rystar’s eyes that she saw the first night of his return.

  Sir nodded. “That is something I can understand and respect. For everything you’ve done for my family, I will accept this monstrosity of a tree with a full heart.” Holding out his hand to Rytsar, he said, “As you seek to forget what you’ve experienced, I will seek to remember that there was a time when this holiday meant something to me.” He glanced down at Hope cradled in his arms, an expression of fatherly concern on his face.

  Shaking his hand solemnly, he agreed, pulling Sir in for a manly hug.

  Brie was deeply touched by their exchange. Two strong men facing a holiday they had avoided for years now choosing to experience the holiday through the wonder of Hope’s eyes.

  Brie glanced toward the tree to see Shadow had climbed down the tree and was stalking the ornament hanging on the limb. He rushed up to it, sat on his haunches, and gave it a light pat.

  Hope broke out in giggles that made Brie smile. Her daughter started babbling to Shadow in earnest as if she was asking him to do it again.

  The big black cat looked up at the baby and, keeping his gaze on Hope, patted the ornament again.

  Hope burst out in strings of giggles that made all three of them laugh.

  “So the tree stays, but it needs to go over there,” Sir stated, pointing to the other side of the great room.

  Rytsar nodded to his men, who proceeded with some difficulty, to transport the huge tree to Sir’s preferred spot.

  Looking at the immensity of it, Sir shook his head and muttered, “Babygirl, you’ve got a lot of decorations to buy.”

  Brie could hardly contain her excitement.

  Although Brie hadn’t said anything aloud, she was anxiously waiting for Hope to say her first word. Having googled it, she knew that babies normally said their first word between six to twelve months and Hope seemed close.

  Because their little girl studied everyone so thoughtfully when he or she was talking, as well as the way she babbled endlessly to Shadow as if she were having a complicated conversation, Brie felt certain that Hope was close to uttering that highly anticipated first word.

  But, the big question was—which word would she say?

  On a lark, Master Anderson had mentioned to Brie that Hope’s first word would be “Brad”.

  “It might sound like ‘dad,’” he told her, “but she’ll definitely be saying ‘Brad.’”

  Brie laughed out loud, holding out her hand to him. “How much do you wanna bet, Master Anderson?”

  He grinned. “Whoever loses has to do the other person’s laundry…bare-chested.”

  With a twinkle in her eye, Brie told him, “I’ll have to pass it by Sir, but I’ll take you up on that bet. I would love to see you wash Hope’s spit rags.”

  She could see Master Anderson gag a little before he took her hand and shook it.

  Winning this bet was going to be all kinds of fun!

  Naturally, Rytsar was certain his name would be the first, especially since “dyadya” was an easy word to pronounce. He ribbed Sir hard about it.

  “It is good that you insist on moye solntse calling you ‘papa’. It eliminates any unnecessary arguments when she says my name first.”

  Sir chuckled. “I think you are in for a major disappointment, old friend. I come from a long line of Italians who’ve said ‘papa’ first. It’s a family tradition.” He looked at Brie and gave her an apologetic wink. “Sorry to disappoint you, babygirl.”

  She shrugged. “I know, I know…I’ve googled it and realize the chances of her saying ‘mama’ first are pretty slim, but I’m not giving up hope.”

  Hope let out a peal of laughter, thinking Brie had said her name.

  Brie picked her up and touched noses with her. “You’re too darn cute, sweet pea, and I know ‘mama’ is your favorite word because it’s attached to me.”

  She repeated it, pronounced the word more slowly and carefully. “Maa…maa…”

  “Are you cheating, radost moya?” Rytsar accused.

  “I’m just helping Hope expresses herself. Isn’t that right, little girl?” She rubbed noses with Hope again before she set her on the ground.

  Hope immediately crawled over to Shadow and reached out to touch him.

  Sir looked at the cat with tenderness. “For an animal, he sure has a gentle way about him whenever he’s with her.”

  “I have to admit, I was concerned at first,” Rytsar admitted. “I remember when that kot tried to smother me at night with its body while I slept.

  “I do remember that,” Brie said laughing. “But I believe he thought you were the perfect body pillow.

  Hope tried to grab Shadow’s ear, but he kept flattening it to his head whenever she reached out to touch it. Hope seemed to think it was a game, and sat up so she could use both hands to grab his ears.

  Shadow didn’t move but he was uncanny with his timing, flattening his ears just as she was about to touch them and then raising them again as soon as she pulled her hands away.

  It was a delightful source of entertainment for Hope.

  “His patience is truly admirable,” Brie said, smiling down at the cat. “It’s almost as if he understands she’s only a child…”

  They all heard it—a single syllable coming from Hope’s lips—and the room became silent.

  “What did you say, Hope?” Brie asked as she knelt on the floor, asking her to say it again.

  “Doe…”

  Rytsar grinned. “You mean ‘dya’ for ‘dyadya.’”

  “Doe,” she said again, smiling up at him.

  Rytsar smacked Sir on the back. “Dyadya wins the day. What did I tell you, comrade?”

  Sir chuckled. “I think you are being premature. She clearly said ‘doe.’”

  “What are you trying to tell us?” Brie asked her again, looking deep into Hope’s dark brown eyes.

  “Doe,” she said, giggling as she reached out to touch Shadow.

  Brie’s jaw dropped. “I think she’s saying Shadow’s name.”

  Rytsar scoffed. “Nyet…”

  Hope giggled again when the cat lowered his ears and cried enthusiastically, “Doe!”

  Sir laughed. “Of all the important people in her life, she gives the honor to our cat.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Rytsar muttered. He looked at Hope in earnest, asking, “Why, moye solntse? Why?”

  Her big brown eyes twinkle in delight at her dyadya before she looked to the cat again. “Doe.”

  Rytsar smirked, accepting defeat. “Da. That is your Dow.”

  Brie picked up her phone and texted Master Anderson.

  Guess who is going to be doing our laundry? Hope just said her first word.

  A few seconds later, he texted back. Damn. Hopefully she didn’t say dyadya or I will never hear the end of it.

  Brie giggled as she typed.

  Nope. But you’ll never guess what it was!

  I bet her first word was ‘no’.

  It rhymes with no. Hope said Dow.

  Okay…

  As in Shadow.

  Oh, hell, no.
>
  Brie laughed when she saw his response.

  “What’s so funny, babygirl?” Sir asked. He picked Hope up and said in a tender voice as he pointed at the cat, “Is that your Dow, little angel?”

  “Dow,” Hope agreed, grinning at the cat.

  Brie giggled when she explained, “I texted Master Anderson to let him know he lost the bet, and then I told him what her first word was. Let’s just say, he’s in shock.”

  Rytsar laughed, looking down at Shadow. “I guess I owe you a piece of bacon, kot.”

  New Insight

  Ms. Clark was flying to LA for a short weekend trip. Don Castrillo, the famous BDSM photographer, had requested that she do a photo shoot. It made sense since the Domme was incredibly striking with her long blonde hair, voluptuous body, and those seductive red lips. They also had a personal connection because he had scened with her at the Haven a few years ago.

  Hearing that Ms. Clark was going to be in town, Sir offered to let his longtime friend stay at the beach house. Brie was shocked when the Domme actually said yes. She was a fiercely independent woman and didn’t seem the type to have the patience for a baby in her midst.

  Sir reassured Brie before he went to pick the Domme up at the airport. “I know Samantha can be a challenge at times, but I feel this is important, babygirl.”

  She trusted Sir without question, but as she readied the guest bedroom, Brie felt her nerves kick in.

  Ms. Clark was intense, and there had always been a strange vibe between Brie and the Domme.

  During Brie’s six-week course at the Submissive Training Center, Ms. Clark had been overly strict with her and critical as a trainer, and she was openly displeased when Sir collared Brie on graduation day.

  Eventually, the Domme had come to accept that Brie was a permanent part of Sir’s life, but an uneasiness still remained between them.

  Brie suspected it had something to do with Rytsar.

  Ms. Clark had a complicated past with the Russian, and Brie had only knew the barest of details about what had happened between them. However, she was certain it didn’t help that Rytsar had chosen Brie at her first auction and had remained close to her to this day.