White Hot Holidays 12: Christmas Cowboy

by Allyson James

  “It’s probably your aunt, come to gloat,” Trey said. “You get the door, I’ll dress in the kitchen.”

  Kelly pulled on the hated sweats again, then stopped to watch Trey walk in nothing but his boots and cowboy hat toward the kitchen. His ass was nice, tight and small and beckoning her tongue. She watched in a daze, until he disappeared.

  Whoever it was pushed hard on the bell again.

  She opened the door easily, like it had never been hexed shut. But it wasn’t Aunt Serena or Trey’s grandmother on the doorstep, it was John Hatton.

  “Kelly,” he said.

  John looked slim and shaved and neat, his black hair combed and slick as always, even though it was eight o’clock on Christmas morning.

  Kelly stared, her heart thumping with anger, happiness and hard, hot sex. “John,” she said, not knowing whether to laugh or scream. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  He spoke evenly, as though he’d rehearsed a speech. “You know, I thought about it, and I felt bad about leaving you alone on Christmas. So I thought, ‘I should go see Kelly. It’s not fair to make her lonely on this day of all days’.”

  Kelly leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. She felt herself smiling. What a jerk.

  She wondered what would have happened if Trey hadn’t popped up last night, carrying an armload of gifts, looking sexy as hell and giving her the best Christmas Eve of her life. Would Kelly now be desperately dragging John inside to stave off the Christmas blues?

  Maybe. Or maybe she’d have shown him the door, like she was going to do now. He’d cheated on her; why should she do him any favors?

  “Why do you assume I’m lonely?” she asked.

  John looked surprised. “Well, I know you have your aunt. But you said your mother wasn’t coming down this year, and I thought…”

  Her smile widened. “You thought I’d be dying for you. You thought you’d come over here and get an easy lay.”

  “Kelly,” John said, shocked. He looked behind her. “Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.”

  Trey had said the same thing last night, but Kelly’s answer was different. “No.”

  “Thanks…wait, what did you say?”

  “I said no.” Kelly idly traced the doorframe. “I’m busy. I have to make the biscuits for my aunt’s Christmas dinner.”

  “Just for a little while. I—”

  John broke off with a gulp, and his face turned a strange shade of green. Kelly didn’t have to turn around to know what he looked at. She heard Trey’s boots on the board floor and then felt his warm presence behind her.

  “Hey,” Trey said in his friendly voice.

  “John, did you ever meet Trey Kincaid?”

  John didn’t say one way or the other, but his brows slammed down. “Were you sleeping with him?” he demanded of Kelly. He switched his gaze to Trey. “She’s my fiancée.”

  “Ex-fiancée,” Kelly corrected him.

  Trey slid his arm around Kelly. “I heard the story, how you had yourself a girlfriend, then got mad at Kelly when she found out. Her aunt told me. I should punch your lights out for that.”

  John looked him up and down, Trey all hard muscle and cowboy strength. John took a step back, but sneered, “So you caught her on the rebound and slept with her.”

  Trey gathered Kelly close. “Let’s just say we took the opportunity to tell each other how we felt. Congratulate us. We’re getting married.”

  * * * * *

  Kelly was quiet after her ex-fiancé left in a huff. Trey walked past her where she stood in the middle of the living room, in her cute orange sweats that he was not going to let her throw away, and went over to the computer he’d booted up before he’d made the coffee.

  She looked stunned. Well, sure, he was stunned too. Not stunned that he wanted to marry her, but stunned that he’d waited this long to ask her. He planned to ream out his grandmother and her aunt for playing a dirty trick on them, but he had to admit the result was worth it.

  If he could get Kelly to say yes.

  “I uploaded those photos we took last night,” he said. He sat down at the computer desk and brought up the program.

  Kelly walked to him very slowly. When she stopped beside him, he wrapped his arm around her hip, liking how she smelled. He clicked to start the slide show.

  “Oh my God,” Kelly breathed.

  First were pictures of him lying on the stairs, his jeans around his hips, his cock stiff and hungry for her.

  Kelly gazed in rapture at the pictures as they flashed up, one by one, first of him and his cock, then him lying facedown, his ass bare, him looking over his shoulder at her. She snaked her hand down to rest on his, her body relaxing and warming.

  Next were the pics of him on the floor under the tree, with the paper around his middle ripped to show his cock with the bow on it. She made a little noise in her throat and reached toward the screen.

  His arm tightened around her, and he kissed her hipbone. She liked him, that was for sure.

  And then came the pictures he’d snapped of Kelly taking his cock. There were many of those, some blurry, but there she was, gazing at him in rapt concentration, her red lips against his cock.

  He’d snapped pictures of her nuzzling his cock, licking it, nibbling it, tasting it, her red hair tangling around the black hair at his balls. He’d taken a picture of her ass up in the air as she leaned over him—a pretty, sweet ass covered in a red knit dress.

  And then there was the picture snapped just as he’d come, his hips leaving the carpet and his cock hard in Kelly’s mouth.

  The slide show came to an end, and the screen returned to the photo software’s innocuous menu.

  “Wow,” Kelly said.

  “You know,” Trey answered wrapping his other arm around her, and nuzzling her hip. “I never liked porn. Too impersonal. But dirty pictures of you and me, on the other hand…” He guided her fingers to the hard thing in his pants, his balls lifting and tightening. “It gets me going.”

  Kelly ran her hand along his length inside his jeans, pressing just enough to make his whole cock tingle. She said softly, “If you uploaded the pictures, that means we can use the card again.”

  His heart beat faster, wondering what she had in mind. “Yep.”

  “I want more pictures, then. Of you, just like you were under the tree when I came down this morning.”

  He pretended to consider. “All right, you talked me into it.”

  He got off the chair, ready to throw off his clothes, but her hand on his arm stopped him. “Trey.”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  Her serious look made him nervous. Was this the speech, then? We’ll have this pleasure today, enjoy our Christmas, then it’s back to our own lives.

  She looked up at him, her red lips parted. “Why did you tell John we were getting married?”

  Trey stopped. “I didn’t like what he did to you. I wanted to rub his face in something, so I told him I was going to marry you.” He smoothed a lock of hair from her face, liking her hair messy with lovemaking. “We really can, you know. Make it true.”

  Her eyes widened, just like they had last night when he’d told her he loved her. “You want to marry me?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Why?”

  He cupped her shoulders, pulling her body the length of his. “Because I love you, Kelly. I always have. I was just too shy to say it, and then life split us apart. But I have the chance now, so I’m saying it. I love you, and I want us to be married.”

  “Oh.”

  He swallowed, his pulse quickening. “You about to break my heart? If you are, will you wait until after you take the pictures? Or else I’ll be crying and look really stupid.”

  Kelly grabbed him, her fingers sinking into his biceps. “Break your heart? You’re an idiot, Trey. I love you.” She shook her head, red hair flying. “I want to marry you, and fuck you, and have you show me how to take you in my ass, like you said last night. I want to suck you off and have y
ou spank me and tie me up with your belt. I want you to take pictures of my bare ass that’s all red where you’ve strapped me, and I want you to take pictures of me tied up and waiting for you. I want all that.”

  “Sounds good.” His heart slammed in his chest, his cock dancing as it rejoiced that his girl liked it hot and nasty. “Which one first?”

  She let him go and snatched up the camera where he’d left it on the desk. “First, I want your naked ass under my Christmas tree. I want you wrapped up like a Christmas gift—my Christmas cowboy.”

  “You got it, babe.” His eyes were wet with happiness. You’re crying, you big sap.

  But he didn’t care. It was Christmas, he was in love, and the girl he’d wanted all his life just said she’d marry him. And that she wanted him to fuck her and tie her up and spank her…

  Trey kissed her hard, savoring it, then he stepped back and pulled off his sweatshirt.

  He sauntered back to the tree, knowing that she was watching his ass in his tight jeans. Then, for about the fifth time since he’d walked in last night, he pulled down his pants.

  Kelly waited, still in the sweats, one hip canted, while he kicked out of the jeans and arranged the paper around his huge, stiff, naked cock.

  He picked up his Stetson from where he’d dropped it earlier, and planted it on his head.

  “Ready, ma’am,” he drawled.

  “Good.” Kelly raised the camera. He saw the damp patch on her sweats where her cream was already flowing hot and heavy for him.

  His cock danced. This was sure going to be a great Christmas.

  “Say cheese,” Kelly said, and snapped the first picture.

  About the Author

  Allyson James is yet one more name for a woman who has racked up four pseudonyms in the first two years of her career. She often cannot remember what her real name is and has to be tapped on the shoulder when spoken to.

  Allyson began writing at age eight (a five-page story that actually contained goal, motivation, and conflict). She learned the trick of standing her math book up on her desk so she could write stories behind it. She wrote love stories before she knew what romances were, dreaming of the day when her books would appear at libraries and bookstores. At age thirty, she decided to stop dreaming and do it for real. She published the first short story she ever submitted in a national print magazine, which gave her the false illusion that getting published was easy.

  After a long struggle and inevitable rejections, she at last sold a romance novel, then, to her surprise, sold several mystery novels, more romances, and then Romantica™ to Ellora’s Cave. She has been nominated for two Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice awards and has had starred reviews in Booklist and Top Pick reviews in Romantic Times.

  Allyson met her soulmate in fencing class (the kind with swords, not posts-and-rails). She looked down the length of his long, throbbing rapier and fell madly in love.

  Allyson welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.

  Also by Allyson James

  hristmas Cowboy

  Tales of the Shareem: Maia and Rylan

  Tales of the Shareem: Rees

  Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

  www.ellorascave.com