Whispers of Winter: A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances

by Nicole Morgan

  “I’ll be right back,” he says, rolling me off of his body and giving me a final kiss before he exits the bed and walks into the bathroom.

  I turn onto my side so I’m facing the fireplace and watch the embers flicker.

  Walking back into the room, Tom goes over to the fire, adds a log, and pokes it with the metal stick until it starts blazing.

  Making his way to the bed, he silently crawls in behind me and wraps an arm around my middle, pulling me back into his chest.

  Months ago when I made my reservation, I never thought I’d be enjoying this room with another person. I had planned on curling up with a good book, or finally finding the time to write the remainder of my holiday cards by the roaring fire.

  I never could have imagined that I’d be curled up naked in bed with an equally naked man spooning me, or that we’d be watching the fire dance and crackle, in companionable silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

  “What’s a bronie?” Tom asks, breaking the silence. I giggle at his question. Turning in his embrace, I wrap an arm around his waist, bury my face into his chest, and shake with laughter before I’m able to control myself enough to answer. Pulling away, I tilt my head to look up at him and say, “It’s a guy who’s a fan of My Little Pony.”

  “You’re fuckin’ with me,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. Rolling onto his back, he pulls me along with him, so my head is now resting on his chest.

  “I’m serious. There’s a fandom of guys who enjoy the cartoon and collect the toys.”

  “What is this world coming too?” he asks, pulling up the covers and softly stroking my back under the blankets.

  Lifting my head up to see his face, I ask playfully, “So are you a bronie?”

  Moving his hand down to fondle my backside he says, “No. I’m a fan of riding and being ridden by you, June Bug.” I moan with pleasure, snuggling into him.

  No man has ever made me feel this way.

  I lay contentedly in Tom’s arms, holding onto him tightly, hoping that what we have between us is the beginning of something real, and praying that he feels the same way.

  Chapter Five

  Wednesday, December 25th ~ June ~

  I wake to Tom’s soft kisses and gentle caresses, which lead us to silently dwindling our supply of condoms even further. This time when we come together, it is slow and leisurely, using all that we have learned about each other’s bodies to our mutual advantage.

  It wasn’t just sex.

  It was making love.

  It was fan-fucking-tastic!

  I’m lying naked in bed, completely sated, while Tom has gone to get us hot chocolates from downstairs.

  My cellphone pings from the table next to the bed. Reaching over, I notice that it’s a text from my ex, Greyson. I groan audibly, glad that Tom isn’t in the room.

  Greyson Wright: Merry Christmas! xxx w/ my fam. I’ll be free later tonight, around 8. Meet me at my house. You still have the key?

  I seriously debate texting him back, rather than doing what I know I should: calling him and making it clear that he needs to stop contacting me. It’s not that he has any power of persuasion over me; he hasn’t for months. Rather, the sound of his voice is painful to endure, just like the memory that I put up with the selfish rat bastard for as long as I did.

  Just as I’m about to bite the bullet and call Greyson, Tom walks into the room carrying two steaming mugs.

  “I hope you like marshmallows,” he says smiling, walking over towards the bed and placing the mugs on the nearby table.

  “What’s the matter?” he asks, as he begins stripping down to his tighty whities again.

  “Nothing. My ex texted,” I say quietly.

  “What the fuck?” Tom asks angrily, grabbing the phone from my hand and begins pressing buttons.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m dealing with this. Drink your cocoa while it’s hot.”

  “I can take care of it myself,” I say indignantly.

  “Clearly, you can’t. But I will.”

  “Tom!”

  “This isn’t June, asshole,” he says angrily into the phone.

  Pause.

  “You need to fuckin’ stop callin’ and textin’ my girl,” he says angrily. I wish he would put the call on speakerphone, but I don’t dare ask him. He’s pissed off enough.

  Pause

  “Has my girl ever indicated she was interested?”

  Pause

  “I didn’t think so. Now take June off your fuckin’ list!” He growls, before ending the call.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, as he leans over and gives me a gentle kiss. A warmth fills me, one which has nothing to do with the hot chocolate in my hand. Having Tom fight for me, claim me as his own; I suddenly feel truly wanted.

  Silence fills the room as Tom tosses the phone onto the table and joins me beneath the covers. Leaning back against the pillows, we continue to sip our hot chocolate, savoring every drop.

  “Oh, I forgot. I talked to my parents while I was downstairs.”

  “What did they say?” I ask curiously.

  “The twins were up at five and everything was torn apart by five-thirty,” he says laughing, then adds, “So they said to come over whenever we’re ready, but we don’t have to rush.”

  “What time do you want to leave?” I ask, beginning to feel nervous at the prospect of spending the holiday with his family.

  Last night, Tom had invited—no, he informed me that I would be spending the day with him and his family. I’m hoping this is an indication that he wants to continue to see one another after we’ve returned to our lives in Orlando.

  “I thought after you Skype’d with your family,” he says, placing our empty mugs onto the bedside table.

  My sister, Jessica, called late last night to tell me when to be available for our family Christmas Skype. She hinted unsubtly that she wants a glimpse of Tom, and it looks like she’ll get her wish.

  “Okay,” I say softly, as Tom pulls me into his arms and we again snuggle down beneath the warm covers.

  We have spent the previous two days getting to know each other in every way. For instance, I know he prefers boxer briefs, hogs the covers, wears a size 12 shoe, wants to learn how to rock climb, is ticklish on his right but not his left side, and despite his claim to only watch the show for the police procedural, I know he’s a secret Caskett ‘shipper. I’ve quickly realized how much we have in common, and can easily see us becoming the best of friends, as well as something much more.

  It is way too early to fantasize about a future, so despite how hard it is, I am forcefully pushing any of those thoughts from my head.

  “What did you ask Santa for this year?” I ask from where my head rests on his naked chest.

  “I wanted you,” he says, tightening his hold on me and kissing the top of my head gently.

  Laughing, I turn so that I can see his face, which is now a mask of seriousness. “I doubt ‘June Evans’ was on your wish list. We just met a few days ago.”

  Tom rolls so he’s leaning over me and looks down into my eyes. He has what I’ve started calling, at least in my own head, his ‘thinking’ face on. His brow furrows, his lips compress into a thin line, and his eyes get this soft, glazed-over look.

  “I’m not sure what you’re used to, but I’ve got a nice little ranch, in a great neighborhood. It probably needs a woman’s touch, so you can change anything you want, whatever will make you happy.”

  “What? You want me to move in with you?” I laugh, completely surprised by the idea.

  “Yeah, you said you’re renting, and I’ve got the house almost paid for now.”

  “What?”

  “I bought it as a foreclosure and was able to make a large down payment; I’ve done all the restorations myself, which—”

  “Wait, you want to move in together?” I interrupt him incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you crazy? We just met! For all you know, I coul
d be an escaped mental patient.”

  Burying his face into my neck, I can feel his laughter rumble through him before he pulls himself together and asks with a smile, “Are you?”

  “Well no, but you don’t know that.”

  “You’re right, we don’t know everything about one another yet, but I like what I’ve seen so far. I want a chance to get to know everything about you. A man finds something he wants, if he’s really a man, he won’t let it get away. I’m not letting you get away from me.”

  “I figured—I’d hoped you’d want to, you know, date when we got back home.”

  “We’re good together, and I know you like what I do to you in bed,” he states smugly.

  “Yes, but—“ I attempt to interrupt his insanity.

  “And I like—no, I love being with you. I’ve never had a pussy or been with a woman as sweet as you.”

  Despite melting at his crudely sweet words, my rationality still prevails.

  “We don’t have to live together to have sex,” I remind him, lifting my leg and wrapping it around his waist, bringing our bodies closer.

  “True, but it makes it fucking much more convenient, and it gives us time for other activities we both enjoy,” he says, running his hand over the thigh that is thrown over his hip.

  “What?” I ask, raising my eyebrows in question. He always seems to have an answer for everything; I can’t wait to hear his reply to this one.

  “We can go out to dinner, rock climbing, or whatever, and won’t have to add in time during our dates for sex. We can fuck when we first wake up, in the shower, before we go to bed or wherever, whenever we want.”

  Why does his twisted logic make sense? Shouldn’t I feel like just some convenient lay?

  “There’s a lot more to living with someone than sex,” I say, attempting to make him see reason.

  “I realize that, but with you, it would be a fuckin’ great perk,” he says grinning. Then he asks seriously, “What’s a quicker way to get to know someone than living with them?”

  “True,” I say, as his face lights up in triumph, just as a thought crashes its way through my mind.

  He can’t be serious! We just met a few days ago. Maybe he just wants to be roommates with benefits?

  Removing my leg from his grasp and creating some space between us, I look at him, wondering how big a fool I really have become.

  Was I just repeating the same pattern of behavior, but with a different man? Was I falling too hard, too fast, and before I know it would land painfully on my non-existent ass?

  “So you want to be roommates with benefits?” I ask guardedly.

  “No, I want to be your man,” he says, pulling my leg back over his hip and rolling between them so he’s leaning over me once again.

  “Really?” I ask, still not believing that this was all happening so quickly.

  “Yes. I’ll just have to convince you,” he says, smiling, kissing, and sucking his way down my body until he reaches my already swollen and well-used nether region.

  All the blood from my brain has migrated to my increasingly wet sex, which are now pulsating in need. Tom was now resting himself on his forearms between my legs, which have spread in invitation, on their own accord. I was obediently submitting to the man who was in this moment leaving sucking kisses and nips on my inner thighs. Since I met this man, my body has been doing things that my mind would’ve never allowed in the past.

  “Tom,” I breathe, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and attempting to direct his talented mouth towards the spot where I need it most.

  “You know what I like. Hands above your head,” he says, looking up at me in mock sternness. When I finally comply and grab the pillow by my head, he says, “That’s my good girl.”

  If his praise hadn’t sent a shiver of pleasure through me, his reward for my obedience—sucking my clit between his talent lips—sends me into a hot, mindless zone of pleasure.

  “Tom,” I moan, bucking my hips in search of release from the heat that was building within.

  “Relax, baby,” he coos. “I’m going to show you how good I can be for you,” he states self-assuredly, then begins to lick the cream from my sex, causing us both to groan in pleasure.

  “This is the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he says as his tongue penetrates me, bringing me closer to the edge.

  Suddenly stopping, I whine in protest as he looks up at me. His lips are glistening with my arousal as he asks, “Does my sweet girl want a taste?”

  I shiver at the thought. My eyes are wide with anticipation and uncertainty. I can only nod my head in assent.

  Smiling, Tom slowly slides up my body, rubbing his toned hardness against me along the way. I encourage him by raising my legs and wrapping them around his hips.

  My heart is racing with anticipation when we are finally face to face. As he kisses me, I can taste the tang of myself on his lips, which sends a thrill of elicit excitement through me.

  His tongue seeks an entrance into my mouth and I open up, as his deep, sucking kiss takes my breath away. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders and raising my legs further up his muscled back, I draw his hard body even closer.

  Pulling away from me, Tom gives me a stern look, “Hands, baby. Be a good girl.” I remove my hands from where they are around his neck and place them back above my head. Not trusting me to keep them there, he grips my wrists in his large hand, pinning me down.

  Excitement shoots through me as I cream at the thought of being completely at Tom’s mercy. Holding himself up on the forearm of the hand that has me captured, his other hand cups my sex, which causes me to buck my hips in need.

  “Please, Tom, I need you,” I beg breathlessly.

  “My baby is so wet for me,” he coos in my ear his voice filled with self-satisfaction. Then he thrusts two fingers deep inside of me, curling them to rub the magical spot, which sends me into an out of body experience.

  “Tom,” I gasp and shake as I’m enveloped with mindless pleasure. Tom continues to stroke me as my sex clings to his fingers, not wanting the moment to end.

  As I come back to myself, I feel Tom move away from me long enough to sheath himself with a condom.

  Covering me again with his hard, hot body, my hands automatically reach down to stroke his pulsing hardness. He groans and lets out a low growl, and after several firm strokes, he grabs my hands.

  Entwining our fingers, he raises our hands above our heads, and in one powerful thrust, Tom joins us together.

  “Fuck, this just keeps getting better,” he says, grinding his pelvis into mine, hitting my clit and sending a shockwave through me.

  Gasping, I pull my legs up higher onto his back, bringing him further inside of me, encouraging him to move.

  Tom’s movements start off slow and gentle, taking his time, and allowing for us to feel every inch of contact as we move together. Picking up the pace, he sucks the spot behind my ear and asks, “How you doin’, baby?”

  “Almost there,” I pant out, as my sex tenses on the precipice of my release.

  Closing my eyes, I give into the sensations he’s creating. The way he moves his body over mine, twisting his hips to rub my clit in time with his movements. Tom is the only man I’ve ever been with who has the power to send me over the edge, all from just moving within me.

  “Look at me,” he growls. Opening my eyes, I see his on fire with his coming release.

  “We’re comin’ together,” he commands, moving with renewed vigor.

  After several hard strokes he gasps out, “Come now,” demanding my body to obey. “Now!”

  With a hard thrust, and brutally grinding against my clit I comply, my hips bucking as my sex squeezes and tightens around his cock, setting him off.

  Tom continues moving within me, finding his release as my body pulls him further inside, never wanting to let go.

  I had thought I wouldn’t be able to walk after this vacation from all the skiing and sledding I had planned on doing. I never imagined th
at I’d be wearing myself out in bed with a man, who was made for keeping a woman warm during long, cold winter nights.

  Once he recovers, he whispers in my ear, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  “Merry Christmas, roomie,” I say, telling him that he will get his Christmas wish.

  Against all reason and probably my own better judgment, I’ve decided to take a chance on us. Who knows where I’ll be next year, but hopefully I’ll be back right where I am now, safe in the arms of this kind, sweet, and amazing man.

  Chapter Six

  Wednesday, December 25th ~ Tom ~

  “Damn. Baby. You’re one hell of a cowgirl,” I pant, my heart pounding from another fucking amazing orgasm. She may just be the death of me.

  Fuckin’ wild.

  The woman draped limply over me laughs into my neck. “I thought it was all about the mount, Cowboy?”

  Cowboy. Fuck, I love it when she calls me that.

  “It’s more about the rider, June Bug.” I kiss her forehead and run my hands along her curves.

  I fuckin’ love her ass.

  “God. I fuckin’ love your ass,” I laugh, slapping one cheek lightly before palming them both.

  I won’t lie – it was June’s ass that first caught my attention. As I watched her bent over and grabbing for her falling luggage, my hand had been itching to reach out and palm her shapely mounds. I should have known then she’d have a great seat and be an excellent rider. Although, now I’m not sure I can take her horseback riding and not be jealous of the damn horse. I wrap my arms around her and hold on tight.

  I never want to let go.

  Never.

  ~ Earlier that Day ~

  As we pull up to the familiar and weathered farmhouse, June, sounding nervous says, “Maybe we shouldn’t tell your family I’m moving in right away.”

  “What? Why?” I ask alarmed, putting the truck in park and turning off the ignition.

  Fuck, I knew it was too good to be true. Please don’t take away the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten – aside from Felix, my first horse.