Ghosts of Christmas (Steamy Bwwm Holiday Romance)

by Kenya Wright

  Saint looked down at me. “I believe that’s the true definition of love. Trying and never giving up. Pushing through trials. Loving until the heart swells and comes close to exploding. And not caring for one minute if it does blow up. Because even explosions are beautiful.”

  I swallowed.

  He turned back to Holly and Nikolas. “Through these new years, you will always be together, loving and uniting even more. And I want you to know that I will always be there, right by your side, rooting you two on. To the Madisons.”

  He raised his glass. “Cheers.”

  I whispered, “Cheers.”

  He sat back down. I turned to him. He had all of my attention. I didn’t even see Holly’s reaction knowing that she was probably crying all over that gorgeous gown.

  I leaned forward. “That was beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I meant every word.”

  “Even the exploding hearts part?”

  He pierced me with an intense gaze. “Even that.”

  “Don’t we need our hearts to live?”

  “We’ll see.”

  I grinned. “How have I been able to stay away from you all these years?”

  “I wonder about that all the time.”

  “I’m lucky that you were so patient—”

  “No. I’m the lucky one.”

  Emma grabbed my attention. “Ivory, you’re such a liar. You already had a speech.”

  Veronica snapped her fingers. “Saint, you’re lucky I’m married, talking about love and explosions.”

  We laughed. The table erupted into more conversation. We ate dinner. A few times he fed me. I knew that some of his family might have been shocked. We’d tried to keep our little liaisons secret. There’d been hints from his mother that she knew, but nothing for certain. But when I checked Mr. and Mrs. Ingram they pointed at us, giggled, and did a whole lot of waving.

  They’re both pretty drunk.

  I realized that it didn’t matter if no one agreed with our love. I no longer cared if all knew. I just had to focus on not being terrified.

  This will work. It has to. Everything. . .is different now. This world is more than I thought it would be.

  After we finished dessert, Saint took my hand. “Can I have this dance?”

  Heat stirred within my body. All night his presence was an intoxicating stimulant to my senses.

  I gazed at his mouth, wanting more than to dance. “Hmmm. I believe others asked me to dance.”

  He moved closer to me and brushed his lips along my ear. “Are you considering those other options? You know I wouldn’t let any other man around you.”

  “Then I guess that is a yes.” I took his hand.

  We rose and headed to the dance floor.

  A slow jazz song spun around us like a golden thread being pulled through the eye of a needle. The notes seemed to glitter in the light. Violin and piano. Flute and the steady beat of a drum. We danced within the magic of the moment. And all my fears came undone.

  I looked up into that loving gaze and enjoyed the tender pressure of his hand on my back. His warmth surrounded me. I knew I was safe from it all—pain, heartbreak, and abandonment.

  God, I’m changed. I’m different.

  Saint took control as I knew he would, doing a skillful job and twirling me along the floor in perfect rhythm to the beat. We made delicate circles around others.

  And when a new song played, slow and romantic, he gathered me in those huge arms and held me close. I rested my head on his chest, and we swayed together.

  I didn’t know how long we danced. I just remembered never wanting to stop.

  And then the music ended and Holly proclaimed that they would be cutting the wedding cake. I left Saint's arms and turned that way.

  The wedding cake was decorated in the hues of soft summer roses, everything from champagne to dusky red. Rather than being one cake, it was assembled from many tiny ones that rose in columns with buttercream between. And amid the rose-hued cakes were real, fresh roses.

  Everyone gathered around the happy couple as they began cutting the cake.

  Just as I was about to head that way, Saint took my hand and guided us in the other direction.

  I giggled and kept my voice low. “Where are we going?”

  “I’ve waited long enough.”

  “And what about Holly and—”

  “They’ll be fine. We’ve done our duties.”

  Hand in hand, we rushed away. Excitement flowed throughout my body. This would not only be a new adventure for my best friend as she began her marriage, but I would finally step into love, doing my best to not drown in fear.

  Chapter 18

  Christmas Eve

  We made it to his villa in minutes. His was similar to mine with the exception of the fireplace across the room from the bed.

  Saint had me out of my gown in seconds. As he devoured my lips, I yanked off his jacket, rushed through those buttons, and snatched the shirt off. We were frantic with our caresses. Licking and sucking on whatever came close to our mouths. I couldn’t get enough of him, and neither he of me.

  He struggled with my bra. Once he wrenched it off, his mouth was back on mine. Our lips grew greedy, devouring each other.

  Right as I was going to take off my panties. He shoved my hands away, picked me up, and carried me over to the couch. Stunned, I started to speak, but he captured my mouth.

  A groan left me.

  My lips trembled as he angled his head, and those sensual lips devoured mine again, eliciting sweet sensations that rushed through my veins. He trailed more soft, hot kisses down my neck. I went wet with arousal.

  He rose and pierced me with a lusty gaze. “Finally you’re mine.”

  Breathless, I gaped at him.

  “But all those years of waiting will be worth it.” He undid his belt and opened his pants. “Every month, week, day, and night, I obsessed over you. When I worked, your face hit my mind. When I sat on my couch at home, watching tv, you were on the screen, not the show or movie I should have been focused on. When I was asleep, I dreamed of you.”

  My chest rose and fell.

  “Do I sound like a mad man, Ivy?”

  I whispered, “No.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you think so or not.” He pulled his cock out. “You’re mine now. And there will be no turning around after this.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. “Is that right?”

  He leaned down and touched my lips with his fingers. Slowly, he trailed a line along my bottom lip. “That’s right.”

  I opened my mouth and sucked in the tip.

  He groaned and pulled his finger away.

  I was about to protest until he swept his fingertips over my nipples. Instantly, they stiffened to aching points. His hands were tender, yet possessive. Gentle, but bewitching my senses at the same time.

  A cry of hunger ripped from my throat.

  Again, he captured my mouth. Consuming me. Feeding my desire, but never satiating it. It just made me hungrier. Needier. And the whole time, he toyed with my nipples. Playing me. Teaching me about my own body. Showing me how lonely I’d really been all this time. My skin burned deliciously from his touch.

  With an urgency I’d never known, I hurried with taking off my panties. I craved his cock inside of me. And there it was, bobbing, thick, and hard against my stomach, teasing me. Telling me that it was coming soon, but not just yet.

  I weaved my fingers through his hair. The smell of his cologne, now familiar, comforting me, putting me at ease, and turning me on all at the same time. His soft lips licked, kissed, and teased my neck. “Do you like this?”

  I whimpered, “Yes.”

  “You want more?”

  “Please.”

  “Please?” He nipped at my lip and rose. “I should have pity, but my cock is upset.”

  I widened my eyes. “What did I do to it?”

  “You made us wait for too long.”

  “Saint, I’ve been trying to fuck y
ou since I got here. You’re the one that started with the ultimatums.”

  “And what about this past year? Not answering my phone calls—”

  “Clearly, I’m going to change. We’re. . .”

  “Say it.”

  “Different.”

  He shook his head. “No. Say it, Ivy.”

  I swallowed. “We’re together.”

  A wicked grin spread across his handsome face. “My cock wants to make sure you will behave this new year.”

  “I will.”

  “Hmmm.” He stroked the long length, teasing me even more.

  “Please.”

  With his free hand, he trailed his fingers along my stomach. I moved his hand away. He shoved my fingers back and returned to the softness of my stomach. “I touch what I want. Do you know why?”

  I grinned. “Because I’m yours.”

  “That’s right.” He slipped his fingers down to my sex and danced the tips along my throbbing clitoris. “You’re so wet.”

  I moaned.

  He drew circles along the bud. “I love to hear you moan.”

  I trembled under him.

  He moved his hand from my pussy, raised it to his mouth, and licked the finger.

  As I watched him suck on my juices, my body hummed.

  He gave me a wicked grin. “Are you going to moan for me all night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmmm.” He took his other hand and tenderly wrapped it around my neck. Of course, he didn’t choke me. It was a tender hold around my neck, but possessive and dominating.

  I gasped.

  With his other hand, he positioned his hard cock at the opening of my pussy. My body vibrated with need. His voice grew rough as if he were barely able to control himself. “You’re mine. There won’t be any other men nicknamed after colors.”

  “No more.”

  That hand stayed on my neck. The other stroked his length and then spread my legs wide open. There, my pussy lay bare in front of him. I was so exposed and unable to hide. I shivered under his gaze.

  The hunger in his eyes intensified. “This pussy is mine.”

  “It is.”

  His next words were raw, animalistic, and held a sharpened edge. “You answer when I call.”

  “Always.” I cleared my throat. “And you get rid of the flirting stylist.”

  He grinned and thrust his cock into me, parting my sensitive folds.

  “Ah!” I raised my hips.

  He still kept his hand tenderly around my throat as he went deeper into me. Balls deep. I rocked, loving being full of him.

  I moaned, “Saint.”

  His strokes went at a faster pace. I did my best to match him, relishing in the delicious feel of his cock in my pussy. The couch rocked with his rhythm. The air crackled around. Harder and faster. He gave me no relief. That hand on my neck kept me in place. His other hand gripped the couch as if giving him the foundation to fuck me even deeper.

  My lids drooped heavy over my eyes. And all I could do was take it.

  Saint knew my body like no other man. He ground his cock into me, pushing forward and then pulling back. In seconds, he found my spot, but then he was the first man to ever show me that I had one. With his cock, he stroked that spot over and over, never letting up, even when I moaned so loud my voice went hoarse.

  And it didn’t just feel good. It blew my mind. Collapsed my senses. Had me rethinking all my life choices that didn’t involve him. My pussy throbbed.

  Fuck!

  The pressure of his hand on my throat made me dizzy. I felt dominated over and completely loved it. Needed it. With him in control, my fears unraveled into nothing. My sorrows of the past shattered. I let go, released it all, and gave him more control.

  Fucking me, a low groan left his lips. He tightened his hand around my throat, triggering a surge of pleasure to flood my body.

  Blazing hot bliss rippled down my body from my head to my toes.

  “That’s right. Now, you know.” He moved his cock in and out of me with rhythmic thrusts.

  “Ah!” I dug my fingers into the couch cushions. A heart-trembling sensation built in every fiber of my body. I became consumed in passion. He slowed his pace, luring new erotic vibrations to flow through me.

  With every stroke, I shoved further over the edge of reality and ecstasy. With every thrust, my hunger rose, yearning, craving, desiring even more.

  He grunted. “You love me?”

  I whimpered, “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  My body trembled. “God, yes.”

  And then he plunged that hard cock deeper into me, bucking his hips. I writhed and rocked with him. We moved as one. Fucking and panting. Pumping and rocking.

  He took me over the edge. My orgasm rose and pulsed. Unending waves of ecstasy devoured me. I fell into a frenzied erotic bliss.

  “Saint!” I screamed in pleasure, not caring if all of Lapland heard me. I lost it. Writhing and crying. Moaning and digging my nails into the couch.

  “Oh, Ivy. Finally, Ivy.” And he groaned loud with me, grunting my name over and over. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. “Ivy.”

  When I was done, I shuddered under him. Getting ready to cum himself, he moved his hand from my throat. I actually missed it.

  “Fuck!” He grunted and pulled his cock out of me. Hot semen spilled along my thighs. Groaning, he stroked the mushroomed tip some more. A string of semen spurt along my stomach. “Oh, God, Ivy.”

  More spilled out of the tip.

  I rubbed the liquid on my stomach. “Put it all over me.”

  He grunted and shot some on my breasts. “Fuck!”

  Loving it, I smeared the wet drops around my nipples and hoped his scent seeped into my pores.

  I made the right choice. This is what I want. I can do this.

  Minutes later, Saint lifted and carried me over to his bed. I was so exhausted I couldn’t even speak.

  When he laid me down, he crashed right next to me and covered us in a heavy blanket.

  Sighing, I closed my eyes.

  Saint pulled me into his warm hold. “Are you ready for that every night?”

  “Please.”

  “Are you ready for me to be in New York?”

  I swallowed. “I. . .think I am.”

  “You will be.”

  Yawning, I nodded. “I will be.”

  “I bought you a present.”

  “Saint—”

  “I know you hate exchanging gifts on Christmas, but it can’t be helped.”

  I shook my head.

  “You will open it Christmas morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “And. . .”

  Catching the uneasiness in his voice, I opened my eyes and looked at him. “What?”

  “Well. . .Holly put together a little surprise and. . .she didn’t want me to say anything, but I’ve been a bit terrified. I didn’t know when I should tell you. I guess now is as good of a time as any.”

  “What surprise?”

  “Okay. I won’t just say it is all on Holly. Perhaps I’m nervous.”

  I leaned away from him. “What surprise and why are you nervous?”

  “This Christmas I decided to make you face the truth of us.”

  “O-kay.”

  “And Holly and I thought that you should face other things too.”

  Discomfort twisted my stomach. “Like what?”

  “This morning, when you saw me.” He sighed. “I had just picked your father up from the airport and took him to his villa.”

  “No. No.” I left his hold. “What? He’s here. No.”

  “Ivy.” He tried to grab me.

  I pushed away his hands. “Why would you do that?”

  “Holly figured you couldn’t hide from him if he came all the way to Lapland.”

  I rushed off the bed. “That’s why he was packing his suitcase. That’s where he was going. I thought it was when he was heading to New York, but it was here.”

&
nbsp; “What do you mean?”

  My hands shook as I grabbed my gown. “H-how could you do that?”

  “I know. I was nervous about the plan but—”

  I shrieked. “Are you fucking crazy?”

  “Ivy, don’t go.” He got up from the bed. “Let’s talk.”

  “Realizing that I love you would not be a big problem.” I stepped into my gown and didn’t even attempt to look for my bra or underwear. “That I can forgive you for. . .but my father. . .I mean. . .I need time.”

  “You haven’t seen him since. . .”

  I blinked at him. “Since my mother killed herself over him.”

  Saint didn’t say anything.

  “I was working on it.”

  “It’s been so long, Ivy. You have to see him. There may not be time.”

  “Fuck you, Saint. And fuck Holly. You two don’t make that decision for me.” I hit my chest. “I do!”

  “Ivy, sit down—”

  “I’m leaving.” I stumbled around the room, searching for my boots. “I can’t believe you two. Rummaging through my life like I’m some pet charity project.”

  “We love you.”

  Cold fear hit me. “He’s here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jesus.” I found my boots and rushed with putting them on. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I just figured out love. I can’t deal with that. I can’t.”

  “Ivy, let’s just—”

  “He’s here.” My eyes watered. I shook my head. “One at a time. Damn it. One at a fucking time!”

  “Ivy.” Saint hurried and put on his pants. “Please, Ivy—”

  “One at a fucking time!” I glared at him. My chest rose and fell like I’d been running. “I can’t do it all this week. I can’t suddenly give my heart to you and then open it to him. I can’t!”

  He took a few steps to me and extended his hands.

  I edged back. “One at a time.”

  “I understand, Ivy. Just come back to bed.”

  I trembled. “His son. . .he’s dying.”

  Saint nodded. “I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We’ve met Timothy.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t want to talk about it.”

  “What the hell are you all doing? All of this stuff behind my back. It’s wrong!”