by Sabrina York
He couldn’t imagine how she could talk as he was lost in the flood of need and desperation.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room. Dark spots appeared in his eyes as all his blood flowed south.
“I thought the girls would never leave.” Her eyes were fixated on his lips. She threw her arms around his neck and crushed her mouth to his. Heat and fire sizzled along his skin.
She was as desperate as he was. How could he not need this woman?
He had the wherewithal to kick the door closed, trying not to fall on her like a crazy beast.
He let out a savage moan when she licked his lower lip before gently biting it. He opened his mouth wider and let her plunder. Her tongue teased and tormented, and he could taste the wild hunger in her.
Knowing only a towel separated them was playing havoc with his control. With the citrus scent of her damp hair and her soft breasts pressing against him, all he could do was breathe and feel.
Her demanding tongue dueled with his as her hands pulled out his shirt. “You have way too many clothes on.”
He could see the flare of excitement in her eyes.
With one hand, he snagged the corner of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, then threw the shirt on the floor.
She dropped the towel.
“God, you shouldn’t have done that, Lauren. I don’t want to rush.”
Her nipples were dark pink and in need of his mouth. He lifted both breasts in his hands, then teased her nipples with his fingertips before he lifted the heavy flesh into his mouth.
“You’re better than any fantasy,” he growled as he tasted her.
She squirmed against him, her hands reaching for his zipper. “Too many clothes. You’re wearing too many clothes. I want to feel you against me.”
He kicked off his shoes, then chucked his jeans and boxers in one quick movement. Deltas were well-known for efficiency.
At last they were fully naked, flesh on flesh. His heart thumped so hard he was sure she could feel it. Her softness pressed against his hard heat was imprinted on his brain forever. He ran his hands along her silky skin down her back before he squeezed her ass, the supple flesh pliant in his calloused hands.
When she rubbed against him, he lost control. “This will be over before it gets started, honey.”
He was on fire. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him, pressing her wet sex against him. He pushed her against the wall and consumed her mouth, desperate to be one. She clutched his shoulders, her fingernails biting into his flesh.
When he trailed wet kisses to her throat, she threw her head back, giving him a stunning view of her pale throat, delicate collarbone, and her voluptuous breasts. Her nipples stood erect.
He bent and licked each nipple, his tongue circling the stiffened peaks. He pulled her breast into his mouth and sucked hard until she arched and cried out. Her voice, lost in pleasure, shot straight to his dick.
She writhed against him, her body tightening, already edging toward release.
He skimmed the flare of her hip, around to the slight curve of her stomach, and down to ease a finger into her. She was hot and wet. And ready. Ready for him. Only him.
“I need you now.” Her fingers tunneled into his hair. “Gabe. Now.”
He pushed his hips up against her swollen flesh. The scent of her arousal roared through him. She gripped him like a wild woman as she writhed against him.
“Lauren, are you sure?”
She bit his neck. “Don’t make me wait.”
He lunged into her tight wetness with one thrust; one glorious thrust and he was buried to the hilt. Her heat surrounded him, sending bursts of electricity through his entire body. He was almost delirious with craving. He inhaled, trying to rein in his need to lunge hard until they both went off in glory.
Lauren had other ideas. She squeezed and rotated her hips, then lifted herself up.
“You’re killing me. I’m trying to make this last.”
His blood boiled through his body. His brain focused only on Lauren’s gyrations. He held her tight, squeezing her ass, his legs braced apart as his woman rode them into ecstasy. Her breathing changed and her motion slowed as she edged close.
He rolled his hips forward for a better angle and plunged in and out in undisciplined hunger. His entire being was absorbed in Lauren with her eyes closed, her head thrashing, her hips pumping in tandem with the hard and fast rhythm he set.
He watched as she spasmed and screamed his name. Her total abandonment and the way she milked him sent him right into an electric storm with lightning sparks scorching through him.
He held her tight against him, not wanting the closeness and intimacy of this first moment to end. He could feel her breath against his chest, smell the citrus of her shampoo and the scent of sex.
He didn’t move, wanting to never be separated again.
“Gabe, that was…”
“I know, honey, I’m lost for words too.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re the best Christmas present I’ve ever received. I’m planning on showing you all night how grateful I am.”
He carried her to the bedroom, taking in the joy of her laughter.
12
Late for the wedding preparations, Lauren rushed down the hallway to check on Georgie’s and Olivia’s progress. She couldn’t believe how quickly Gabe’s presence had thrown her well-organized, planned life into chaos. But she didn’t feel one moment of remorse.
She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the little flutters from her stomach. She was overflowing with Christmas spirit like a giddy young girl waiting by the Christmas tree. For the first time in a very long time, she felt hopeful. This year she had been given the best gift of all—love. Love from a sexy, solid man who would live up to his promises.
Lauren could hear the girls’ loud laughter and squeals from the hallway. Lauren didn’t announce her presence, not wanting to avoid setting off Timothy, the stylist who had flown in for the wedding. An enthralled Georgie stood next to Olivia, watching in the mirror as Timothy finished Olivia’s hair.
Timothy took a step back to inspect Olivia, his masterpiece, before he added more blush to Olivia’s high cheekbones. The girls looked beautiful and fresh, exactly as she’d hoped. But it wasn’t their dresses, their braided updos, or their makeup that made them beautiful; it was their exuberant spirits.
Georgie spotted Lauren first and immediately dashed toward her, her gangly stride causing her elegant dress to flap around her ankles.
“Lauren, you look fantastic—like something right out of Vogue.”
Olivia leaped out of the chair, unaware of Timothy’s disapproval. “Lauren, you look like you belong on a runway.”
The girls inspected every detail of Lauren’s dress, her makeup, and her hair, which was the adult version of theirs. Lauren had done her hair and makeup herself while Gabe watched with his towel wrapped around his waist after showering, making seductive comments and promising what they would do tonight after the wedding.
She knew she glowed. She had seen it in her mirror. Not because of her fashion, but from the joy radiating from her heart.
“How come we didn’t get that dress?” Georgie teased.
Lauren’s red velvet dress had a very low, off-the-shoulder neckline. The girls’ dresses were from the same velvet that was close to crimson, had the same long sleeves, but without the plunging V-neck.
Despite trying to do her best work for Tiffany’s dress, Lauren wanted herself and the girls to also feel stunning. And, judging by how simply sweet the girls looked, she had accomplished her goal.
Of course, she had to fight with Tiffany to keep the girls’ makeup natural with pink tones and pink lips appropriate for their age.
Lauren wasn’t going for innocent, but sophisticated for her and Tiffany’s look. They both had the same cut for the dress, but Tiffany’s was made extraordinary for a bride by the vintage lace for the sleeves, the bodice, and veil. The soft, sensual, ivor
y velvet offset the delicate bridal lace.
Lauren gave Timothy a big hug. He was her go-to makeup artist and stylist. She tolerated his “artistic attitude” because of his incredible talent and used him for all her shows. “Timothy, you’ve done an amazing job with the girls. They both look wonderful.”
The girls beamed at each other, enjoying the attention.
“Olivia, I haven’t finished. Sit down.”
Olivia had the sense to look repentant as Timothy applied the pale pink lipstick to her lips.
“I hope the girls haven’t given you a hard time.” Lauren knew how energetic the two of them together could be.
“I’ve never had such enthusiastic clients. I get so tired of the constant bitching. Everyone thinks they’re an artist. ‘Don’t you think it should be a little shorter, darker…’ And it goes on. Why hire me if you want to change my work?”
Georgie tittered and poked Olivia.
The wedding photographer, who also was Tiffany’s Instagram photographer, hovered in the background, clicking shots of the two mischievous girls laughing.
“Are you referring to our bride?” Lauren lifted her eyebrows, waiting to hear how much crap Tiffany had given the top NYC stylist who was a Da Vinci of makeup and hair and who Lauren had to beg to work with Tiffany.
“She actually was pretty restrained, but her mother…” Timothy took in a deep breath, ready to give Lauren the deets on what a royal bitch they knew Samantha to be.
Lauren gave Timothy the high sign not to divulge in front of the girls.
Timothy rolled his eyes. “You owe me, honey.” He exhaled from the side of his mouth and hitched his shoulder. “And I still have to do her makeup—if I can control myself not to strangle her first.”
“Timothy, will you do our hair and makeup when Lauren marries my brother?” Georgie pleaded.
Lauren’s face heated. Did the girls know about last night?
Lauren hadn’t rushed the girls when they came for hot chocolate, but she did emphasize that they wanted to be rested to look their best for the big day. Did they see through her maneuvering? By their exchanged looks, they had missed nothing.
Timothy grabbed his heart. “Did you get engaged?”
He lifted her hand and mimed a search for a ring.
Lauren’s bright pink face clashed with her crimson lips.
"No, I didn’t. And you shouldn’t believe everything these two imps have to say.”
“But Lauren, my brothers, and even my mother said they’ve never seen Gabe act this way. They’re all expecting a wedding in the spring. You’ll have Olive and I as your bridesmaids, won’t you?”
“Gabe? Sounds like a virile kind of guy.” Timothy waggled his eyebrows.
“Not sure what that means, but Gabe is spec forces and very handsome.” Georgie was loyal.
“He’s ripped,” Olivia chimed in.
Lauren wasn’t sure how to respond. She winced at what Gabe might say if she gave any encouragement to the girls. Between bouts of loving making last night, she and Gabe decided not to rush but to slowly pursue this insane chemistry between them during his time off.
“Today is Tiffany’s wedding. Let’s focus on that.” She gave her best stern voice. “I have to get Tif into her gown. You two stay out of trouble and don’t let anyone see you.”
“But you will have us as bridesmaids, and Timothy will do our hair and makeup for your wedding?” Georgie repeated.
Lauren appreciated where Georgie got her persistence. Rather like her big brother who was relentless in pursuing Lauren’s repeated pleasure. “If Gabe and I decide to marry, you two will definitely be in our wedding.”
Both girls high-fived each other.
“We’re going to be twice-sisters now,” Georgie exclaimed.
Not exactly successful in squashing the girls’ expectations for a wedding, Lauren hurried out the door, not wanting to discuss her future when all she wanted was to hold the newness of her feelings close to her heart.
Lauren headed to the bridal suite. Showtime—time to help Tiffany become a bride.
When Lauren entered, Tiffany, in her bathrobe with her veil on, was pacing against the backdrop of the spectacular mountain views.
“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” Samantha held a champagne flute in her hand.
Lauren braced herself for the next attack as Tiffany slowly perused Lauren from the tips of her Jimmy Choo shoes to her braided updo. Tiffany didn’t say anything, which in their relationship was remarkable.
“Timothy is ready to do your makeup, Samantha. He’s just finished with the girls.”
“Darling, I’ll return for pictures once he gets my makeup done.” Samantha blew air-kisses at Tiffany. “I can’t believe this is my baby girl’s wedding day. I’m going to need run-proof mascara or I’ll be a mess for the pictures.”
Lauren walked to the closet, about to retrieve the dress, when there was a knock at the door.
“Yes?” Tiffany stepped toward the door.
“It’s Phillip. Are you ready for the dress pictures?”
Of course, Tiffany would want pictures of her donning her bridal gown.
“Yes, come in. We’re ready.”
Phillip, a successful fashion photographer, was part of the success of her Instagram account. But Tiffany’s concepts and designs were at the center.
Tiffany slipped out of her robe, letting it drop to the floor. She stood in her bustier and thong, with garters holding up her white stockings. Not exactly the type of photoshoot for Bride magazine but more for the cover of Maxim.
Tiffany stepped into the dress in front of the mirror while Phillip circled them, taking shots from different angles to capture their reflections in the mirror. Lauren fastened the dress.
Tiffany stood still and quiet while Lauren painstakingly hooked and buttoned the back of the dress. Lauren straightened when she had finished the last buttons to look at Tiffany in the mirror.
Bridezilla vanished. Tiffany looked magical, like an ethereal snow queen.
“Tif, you look … perfect.” Lauren took pride in her design, but Tiffany’s natural beauty enhanced the gown.
Tiffany smiled at Lauren in the mirror. “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to wrinkle anything. And you’re right. I look perfect.”
Both women shared a laugh.
“Thank you. I know I wasn’t the easiest, but now that we’re going to be sisters-in-law, I’ll try to be nicer.”
“You’ve been listening to Georgie and Olivia.” Lauren refused to have this conversation with Tiffany.
“I avoid listening to their endless chatter. Gavin told me.”
Denial and deflection were the easiest approach. “It looks like I might have missed one button.” Lauren bent to hide her bright red face.
“Your mother sent me here, Tiffany. Is it time?” Thomas Turner, always dashing in his black tuxedo, sauntered into the room.
He paused, scanning both women. “My daughters are stunning creatures. The apples haven’t fallen far from the tree. You both look ravishing. And Tiffany, you are more beautiful than any of my four brides.”
Lauren muttered under her breath for Tiffany’s ears only, “Strong praise from daddy dearest.”
Tiffany snorted. The rude and incongruous sound coming from the ethereal beauty caused Lauren to crack up.
Their father, always aware of the camera, angled his chin upward and presented his profile to the camera. “This is a new role for me. And I’m not sure I like being the father of the bride—makes me feel rather old, though I don’t look it.”
“How difficult for you.” Lauren moved closer to Tiffany, shielding her from their father.
“I’m sure Liana can comfort you after the wedding.” Tiffany met Lauren’s eyes in the mirror. Their shared moment of understanding was a Christmas present for both of them.
“Liana left with that Roger guy. They flew out this morning.”
Neither Lauren nor Tiffany responded. Were they supposed to offer condol
ences to their father over the loss of his young bedmate?
“Lauren?” Gabe was outside the door. “Can I come in?”
Lauren stood paralyzed by the perfection of the raw male virility of Gabe in a tuxedo. The air caught in her lungs. He was gorgeous, sexy, and all hers. Her heart raced and heat spread through her with his slow perusal. He hadn’t seen her in the maid of honor gown. He had left her room before she was dressed.
“You look…” He swallowed hard. “Beautiful.” His eyes darkened and his need and appreciation telegraphed across the room, leaving Lauren speechless.
Gabe was the first to break the silent tension between them with her father and Tiffany as spectators. “You look nice too, Tiffany.”
“Not sure if my feelings should be hurt or not.” Tiffany smirked.
“Gavin sent me to check on you. He wanted to make sure everything was going as you hoped.” Gavin gave a subtle nod toward their father.
How could Lauren not want to be part of the Griffin family? Gavin had sent Gabe to protect his bride from her obnoxious father. Lauren looked at her father next to Gabe, and the comparison was dramatic in a way that Thomas would never understand. Both were handsome, forceful men, but Gabe didn’t seek attention. Instead, he gave his attention and care to his family, to his country, and now, lucky for Lauren, to her.
“You can tell Gavin everything is perfect. And there’s no turning back because I’m ready to marry him.”
“And are you ready, Lauren?” Gabe’s tender look was filled with love and promise.
Lauren grabbed onto to his arm and whispered to him as they left the room, “Gabe, I’m ready for anything as long as I’m with you. I’ve always worried about surviving the holidays with my family. But you and I are starting right now our own way of celebrating Christmas.”
And he planned to spend the rest of his Christmases exactly as he was—wrapped in Lauren’s arms and love. A Christmas miracle for a weary soldier.
Also by Jacki Delecki
The Grayce Walters Series
An Inner Fire
Women Under Fire
Men Under Fire
