by Whitley Cox
Will’s eyes flashed back up to her face. Holy mother of God, she was his perfect woman. The last few women he’d been with hadn’t been able to take him in this position. It’d been too painful for them. His heart thudded in his throat at the possibility of taking Amber from behind and her enjoying it. But he had to be careful, too. He didn’t want to hurt her.
“Are you sure, baby? This position isn’t easy with a big dick.”
Ignoring him, Amber quickly slipped off of his lap and stood up, planting her knees on the bench seat of the tub, her hands on the upper ledge.
“Take me, Will,” she breathed. “I want you like this, now.”
She’s fucking perfect.
With a low and primitive growl, Will ducked down and rammed his tongue into her pussy. He needed her sopping wet and on the verge of a climax if she was going to take him in this position. She mewled and pushed back into his face, her sweet heat softening and swelling against his lips. Around and around he swirled his tongue, only to plunge it deep into her quivering channel. She trembled against him, and her wetness poured over his tongue. He lapped it up and hummed, enjoying her flavor. Once he knew his Little Red was good and ready, he stood up, chuckling at her grumble of protest. He positioned himself behind her, gripped her hips and then slowly, carefully wedged himself inside.
“Faster!” she demanded.
Oh dear sweet lord, yes.
But he quelled his excitement. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she gritted impatiently. “Deeper, Will, please.” He sank the last couple of inches into her luscious heat, both of them groaning in satisfaction. Amber pushed back into Will and he bucked into her. The muscular rounds of her sculpted ass beckoned for him to grab them. One day, if this lasted more than the week, he hoped she’d let him take her there, let him fuck her sweet ass as he teased her clit with a vibrator.
His balls ached from how full they were, and the way her snug little pussy grabbed his shaft and refused to let go had Will doing everything in his power to stave off his release. But Amber’s moans and grunts grew louder, fiercer, and the way she squeezed herself around him, he wasn’t going to last much longer.
Fuck, he needed to get her there.
Reaching around under her, past her belly, he delved two fingers between her slick lips. Her clit was hard, and with each brush of his fingers, he felt it swell. She was close, too.
“Get ready, Little Red.”
“Will, please,” she begged, her voice husky and hoarse from lack of use.
He brought her clit between his thumb and forefinger, and as he pulled out, he pinched her slick bud and then drove home one more time. Amber shot off like a rocket, her body stilling and then rippling around him as the orgasm took hold, gripping her body and thrashing her around as if she were not more than a rag doll. Will stiffened behind her, and his fingers dug wells into the plump flesh of her ass as he found his release. The sweet contractions of her core milked him, drew him in as he spilled himself inside her. He tilted his head back and let out a low and surly roar, continuing to move, thrust after thrust, hammering into Amber until every last morsel of him was inside her. One day soon they’d have the birth control conversation and he would find out if she meant what she said about not wanting kids. He wanted skin-to-skin with Amber. Nothing between them. Ever.
Chapter Nine
Juney blinked. Once, twice, three times, a slow, placid smile spread across her face as she took in the man next to her. Rowan was awake, wide awake. And he was watching her.
“Good morning,” she yawned, reaching out from under the covers and cupping his scruffy blond chin.
“Merry Christmas, Juniper,” he said softly. His hand came up, and he covered hers, leaning into her touch and briefly closing his eyes.
Juney’s chest tightened. It was such a simple act, and yet it meant so much.
“Merry Christmas, Rowan.”
“What were you dreaming about? Book stuff?”
“Was I dreaming?” She yawned, pulling her hand away and instead scooting in close to him and draping her arm across his chest. He helped her tuck her head into the crook of his arm and draped those sexy muscles around her. She snuggled right in.
“Yeah, I think so. Your nose would wrinkle now and then, and you mumbled a few things.”
“Damn, was I giving you spoilers in my sleep?”
His deep, warm chuckle wrapped around her like a cashmere throw. “I didn’t hear any specifics. I’d plug my ears if I thought it would ruin the book for me.”
“Oh, good. I can’t remember what I was dreaming about. I rarely can.”
“I had a great dream.” His free hand came up and tucked under his head.
She lifted her head and swiveled her neck to look at him. “Oh, yeah? What about?”
“You, buck naked wearing nothing but an apron, a chef’s hat, and black stilettos. You were sitting on the stainless steel counter in a big restaurant-style kitchen, holding a wooden spatula and patting it against your palm.”
Juney swallowed. “And what were you doing?”
“I was finishing up a crudité.”
She laughed. Of course he was cooking. He was always cooking. But she loved that he had a passion. Something that woke him up in the morning, drove him to succeed, to excel, to strive for the top. Rowan’s tenacity was incredibly sexy, and his food was damn good, too.
“Ah, but then once I cleaned up and you tried my meal—you loved it, by the way—you begged me to toss you down face-first onto the counter, hike up your apron and fuck you from behind. Then you handed me the spatula and ordered me to spank your ass.”
“I did not!”
That smile. Those dimples. They would be the end of Juney.
“My dream, baby. You certainly did.” Rowan removed his hand from behind his head and grabbed Juney’s. He drew it down beneath the sheets to where his cock lay long and thick against his taut belly. She gripped it, and he moaned. She gripped it harder, and he moaned louder.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his voice a rough timber as she slowly snaked her hand a tad lower and cupped his balls, squeezing ever so slightly, earning the quick inhale from his lips she was seeking. “Me tanning your sweet ass as I pleasure you from behind. Taking you hard and fast.”
Licking her lips, Juney brought her gaze up to meet Rowan’s. There was no iris left in his eyes; it was all pupil, all lust, all need. Her hand moved beneath the sheets; back and forth she stroked him, loving the way he continued to grow and harden in her palm. Silky-soft, but so very hard.
“Tell me, Juney. Tell me your fantasies. I’d like to make them a reality if I could. Make you feel as special and wonderful as you truly are.”
Her heart did a little pitter-patter inside her chest as the man she’d only known for a few days said all the right things to her, made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman on earth. A woman he wanted to cherish and spoil until death do they part.
His free hand pulled on her nipple, and she gasped from the bite of pain that set her neurons alive and sent a building pleasure sprinting through her body, ending between her legs and unfurling into a divine heat.
“Tell me, Juney. Tell me your fantasies.”
Her breath audibly caught when he tugged even harder on the nipple. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and inhaled deeply. “Well, I like the dream you described. That sounds super-hot.”
“Mhmm . . . and?”
“And . . . I guess I’ve never really had sex in too public of a place. I’d like to get it on somewhere a little risqué, maybe a bar bathroom or the backseat of a car on the ferry or in an empty movie theater. Not too, too public. But you know . . . ”
Rowan’s hand slipped down Juney’s body, his fingers trailing fire along her skin. A finger pushed between her slick pussy lips, and he brushed her clit. “Yeah? Those all sound awesome. What else?”
Juney swallowed. “I . . . I’ve never been tied up before. That could be fun.”
&
nbsp; “It certainly could be. We might have to ask Hunter if she recommends a certain silk rope or shackles.”
Juney’s leg twitched when Rowan rubbed that secret spot on her clit. The spot that made her whole body quake and her brain shut down. “Yeah,” she sighed, spreading her legs a little wider for him and pushing her pelvis into his inquisitive fingers.
Rowan’s hand slipped away, and Juney almost reached for him. “Well, we can definitely do all those things and more, Miss Davis. But right now, right now I think I’d like a sweet, old-fashioned Christmas morning fuck. What do you say?”
He rolled her onto her back and covered her, his eyes holding so much more than just lust, and for a moment Juney was tempted to say something. She was tempted to tell Rowan how much she already cared for him. How he made her feel beautiful and special, that he didn’t need to fulfill any of her fantasies, he was already fulfilling so much more for her than he could ever know. But she resisted the urge. It was too soon. Instead she let him settle in between her legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. They’d had the birth control conversation last night. He was clean, she was clean and had an IUD. They were good to go. Skin-to-skin.
“Get ready, baby.” Rowan chuckled. “Santa’s about to come down the chimney.”
“Oh, you did not just say—”
But she didn’t get to finish teasing him. His lips slanted over hers and his tongue wedged inside, silencing her while at the same time giving her exactly what she wanted for Christmas. Romance, the possibility of love, and hope for the future.
Juney yawned and snuggled in tighter against Rowan on the couch. It was later that morning, and they were all lazing around the living room, swaddled up tight in flannel robes and chenille throws and cradling spiked coffee. She was about to close her eyes. The Baileys in her coffee and the early morning orgasms were making her sleepy, but suddenly the television flicked on over the mantle.
“What the heck?” she asked, her eyes darting around to see who had snatched up the remote.
Heads shook and curious eyes wandered across curious faces, and then suddenly, Daisy appeared on the screen. Her loose strawberry-blonde curls jostled boisterously as she grinned at them.
“Hi, guys!” She waved. “I’m not live, so don’t bother asking me any questions. But I just wanted to wish you all a big Merry Christmas and see if everyone brought their Secret Santa gift.”
Groans echoed around the room, but slowly heads nodded.
“Good!” She clapped, continuing to bounce in her seat. “All right, first things first. I want everyone to put a number tag on their gift. There are gift tags in that drawer on the side table closest to the hearth. Once you’ve done that, put the other numbered tags into the velvet bag, and then everyone pick a number. Obviously, if you pick your own, try again. Got it?”
“Yes, mom,” Rowan said. Nobody had to see him to know he was rolling his eyes.
“That’s enough out of you, Rowan,” Daisy scolded.
Rowan’s back went ramrod straight and he snapped to attention, spinning around in his spot on the couch. “Okay, seriously, either we’re on a nanny cam or the woman is a mind reader.”
“My guess is on the nanny cam,” Will said with a snort. “She strikes me as a bit of a voyeur. All sweet and innocent on the outside, but on the inside she’s got some real twisted proclivities.”
Amber and Hunter both laughed and nodded. Austin’s face slowly turned the same color as his holly-red coffee mug.
“Yeah.” Rowan nodded. “My money is on that.”
“Anyway,” Juney interrupted. “Moving on.”
“Has everyone done what I’ve asked?” Daisy said on the television.
Both Rowan and Will, who were mighty comfortable all snuggled up with their women on the couch, both said “No” at the same time.
“Good!” Daisy clapped again. “Well, I’ll leave you to the gift opening. You all know how to do that. Just a reminder, the shuttle is coming for you at noon on December 28th. Until then, have a wonderful time, make memories, make friends and make . . . ” Her smile was sassy, and the twinkle of mischief in her bright blue eyes made everyone groan. “The most of your free matchmaking. Normally this kind of thing would have cost you a pretty penny.” She giggled at her hilarity and then wished them all Merry Christmas one more time before the screen went black.
“My present is in my room,” Will said with a yawn.
Amber nodded. “Mine too.”
“Mine too,” Austin said. He’d been rather quiet throughout the entire thing, as had Hunter.
She had shrouded herself in at least three blankets and was sitting against the hearth clutching her mug, her eyes fixed on the leg of the coffee table. “Me too,” she said absently.
“Well, mine is under the tree,” Juney said, getting up from her spot on the couch to go and grab a beautifully wrapped parcel with a green velvet bow.
“Of course it is,” Will said cheekily.
Juney shot him a look of mock irritation as she wandered back over to the coffee table. The gift was long and narrow, and the brushed gold wrapping paper reflected the lights on the trees as she brought it over and set it on the coffee table. She hoped that whoever wound up with her gift would like it. Even though she hadn’t given it a ton of thought, simply because she was just too busy with work, it was still a very nice gift. She sat back down next to Rowan with an audible huff.
“Mine’s in my room too.” Rowan gave Juney an affectionate rub on her thigh before hoisting himself up out of the soft, warm leather and, just like Amber, Will, Hunter and Austin, headed off to his room for the gift.
Her skin tingled where he’d touched her, and she wanted him to put his hand back.
“You’re such a keener.” He winked before he rounded the corner and headed down the hall.
Juney got up from her spot on the couch and went to go putter away in the kitchen. She and Rowan had been the first up, just like the day before, and they had nearly a third of Christmas dinner prepped before another Shanghaied vacationer poked their pillow-creased face into the kitchen.
Austin was the first back out to the living room, followed by Hunter. They avoided each other’s eyes as best they could, but when they plopped two identical gift bags down on the table, their gazes locked.
Hunter’s breath caught in her throat. Despite the fact that Austin didn’t want her, the attraction she had for him wasn’t going anywhere. Last night had been brutal. Between Juney and Rowan doing hand-stuff beneath the bubbling water and Amber and Will pretty much kicking them out of the hot tub so they could have sex, Hunter had had just about enough. And then there was that incredibly awkward, make you want to crawl into a hole and die, slow agonizing death moment in the hallway with Austin, and Hunter was pretty sure this Christmas was making its quick ascension to the top of the crap pile as far as Christmases went. A bunch of people she hardly knew, love in the air for everyone but her, a man she was interested in but who clearly wanted nothing to do with her, and to top it off, she’d woken up with a headache clawing at the nape of her neck and a zit the size of Jupiter’s biggest moon on her chin. Normally she wouldn’t have cared, but today she did, so before she joined the masses, she troweled on the concealer until the puss geyser was covered and no more than a slight peachy bump.
Undoubtedly the zit was probably from her need to make haste the night before in the bathroom. She cringed into her coffee mug at the horrible memory . . .
“Oh. Oh, sorry,” Hunter had mumbled, suddenly feeling her wine in her toes and bumping awkwardly into Austin’s hard, broad chest. She hadn’t been looking where she was going, her mind off in la la land and her eyes on her feet as she made her way to the bathroom, eager to shower, brush the booze off her teeth and climb into bed. Hot tubs always made her sleepy, and Santa didn’t bring presents to kids who weren’t in bed with visions of sugar plums doing the foxtrot through their heads and all that. She heard a faint moan down the hall from Juney’s room, and a stab of envy sp
eared her heart.
“No, uh, it’s me. I’m sorry,” Austin grunted, taking a step back, his toiletries bag clutched in his big palm.
Hunter’s gaze drifted back down to her feet, then to the door, then the ceiling. She paused. Austin’s eyes followed hers.
What was with all the mistletoe? That hadn’t been there earlier in the day, had it?
Her eyes landed on Austin’s lips. They were beautiful lips. Shiny and red, plump and perfect. A primal urge attacked her, and she ran her tongue between the seam of her own lips. Austin’s eyes were like laser beams, watching her every move. Had he even blinked?
She didn’t move an inch, not even a millimeter. Hunter’s chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths. Austin’s nostrils flared and his green eyes darkened to the color of red cedar boughs.
“I, uh, I don’t think that was there earlier? Mistletoe seems to be popping up everywhere.” She chuckled uncomfortably and rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Like there’s a sneaky little elf somewhere hanging them in the most random places. Desperate to make everyone around here kiss.”
Austin’s eyelids fell to half-mast, and his Adam’s apple jogged heavy in his throat.
Jesus Christ, man, fucking say something. Anything!
“Y-you go first,” he finally stammered, pushing the door open for her before bringing both his hands down to the front of his pants. He held his toiletries bag in front of his lap and gestured with his head for her to go inside.
Hunter glanced into the washroom and then back to Austin’s face. The man appeared terrified. She followed his gaze. He was staring at her chest.
Shit!
She had already changed into her pajamas, taken her bra off, and was in nothing more than a peachy pink tank top with the words “Breathe” over her breasts. But there was no mistaking her dusky areolas beneath the thin fabric, and her nipples had hardened to tight, painful points. She suppressed the desire to cup her breasts and relieve their sudden, heavy ache. She wanted Austin’s hands on her. Austin’s lips on her. Austin’s body pressing hers up against the wall as he rammed his cock inside her, swift and sure.
