Owned for Christmas

by Willa Edwards

  The skirt dropped to her feet and she stepped out of it. Her matching white-laced bikini panties were cut high, showing off even more of her shapely legs. Mrs Valentine was five three, barely reaching his shoulder, but he’d always liked that about her. Her small, curvy frame was perfect for him to hold, to protect, to love.

  His cock thickened further in his sweat pants. He fought back a groan, not wanting to share the noise with his best friend. He’d forgotten how hard it was to watch from afar and not be able to touch her. In the years he’d been gone, being allowed to touch a woman hadn’t been a problem. There were very few women he’d met who he couldn’t charm, either with his handsome but still boyish good looks or with his exciting and prestigious profession. Though he’d never found the right woman.

  In his life, there must have been other women he’d been unable to seduce. There certainly must have been a few others in high school. He hadn’t started working out until college. And he hadn’t discovered how appealing women found being photographed until a few years into his profession. But the only one he remembered was Mrs Valentine.

  “How’s the view?”

  He held the phone tight to his mouth as he rose then limped around the corner. He hid behind the faded Spiderman curtains his mom planned to take down but hadn’t gotten around to yet. At least they offered some protection from Mrs Valentine’s view. He’d hate for her to find him watching her.

  Jeremy smiled, straightening his stance for an even better view. “Just as good as ever.”

  It may have been ten years, but Mrs Valentine looked as amazing as she always had.

  As a teenager, he hadn’t realized the invasion of privacy it was to spy on her, to see her in her states of semi undress, even if she allowed it by never closing her curtains. Now he was old enough to know better. But he couldn’t make himself look away. He made a career of capturing the most beautiful visions on Earth, and he couldn’t avert his eyes from the most gorgeous creation he’d ever seen, no matter how wrong it might be.

  Mrs Valentine had taught him the most important lesson of his life. If someone stayed quiet and still long enough, he would see the most glorious sights. It was a skill he used every day in his career. His editor was always amazed by how Jeremey managed to get the best shots, even from his first days on the job. Jeremy didn’t care if he had to wait in a mud puddle for three days to get the perfect photo of a sunset over a pack of sleeping lions, he’d do it. It was a skill that had rewarded him well, making him a highly paid nature photographer in record time. For that, he had Mrs Valentine to thank.

  She wrapped her hands around her neck, finding the clasp to her necklace and pulling the delicate chain away from her throat. The small diamond rose from the valley of her cleavage. He’d kill to be that necklace, warm from her skin, tucked between her gorgeous breasts.

  Stepping forward, she bent over to place the necklace on her dresser, showing off the smooth expanse of her back and the curve of her spine. What he wouldn’t give to be able to explore each one of her vertebrae while she was leaning like that. First he’d run his fingers down the scale, then kiss each one, and finally lick that delectable path up and down until she shivered and moaned for more. Then he’d press into her from behind and give her everything she needed, everything they wanted.

  She pulled open the top dresser drawer and removed a pair of light pink shorts and a matching tank. Stepping into the shorts, she then tugged the fabric on over her round, bitable ass. The thin sweat material clung to her curves, detailing every inch of her body. Jeremy bit his tongue, the coppery taste of blood tainting his taste buds, as she dragged on the just-as-thin-and-tight tank top.

  The tops of her breasts peeked out over the low neckline. His mouth watered. All he could think of was running his tongue along that valley until she cried out his name. God, he’d do anything for her, anything to make her happy. She needed more happiness in her life.

  “Damn, I wish I was there to see her too.” Brett’s voice interrupted his fantasy, yanking him back to reality.

  Jeremy swallowed hard. An irrational jealousy and possessiveness billowed up inside him. When he was a teenager, he’d let some of the other boys come over to look into the Valentines’ bedroom, but always when he knew the Valentines wouldn’t be home. He couldn’t stomach the idea of his friends staring at Mrs Valentine.

  Even though they’d wanted to do the same thing he was doing now, it felt different. His friends had always spoken crassly about her, talking of what they wanted to do to her, or themselves, as they watched her.

  He cherished Mrs Valentine. He worshiped her. He wanted to give her pleasure, make her smile, hold her when she cried, be there to support her during the long hours her husband had left her alone. Her beauty was only the tip of the iceberg. There was so much more to her that the other boys never saw.

  Next door, she pulled the barrette from her hair. Mrs Valentine shook her head. Her shiny dark curls twirled around her heart-shaped face, then fell to just below her shoulders. The waves framed her round cheeks, her blue eyes all the more stunning in contrast. He’d love to run his fingers through her hair. To discover how soft and springy it was beneath his touch.

  She smiled at herself in the mirror, just a small, slight curve of her lips as she checked herself out in the glass, but the gesture was so genuine, so sweet, it set his heart pumping. His dick hardened to an iron rod.

  “I need to get out of here,” he grumbled into his cell. He gripped the phone so tightly the plastic creaked in his hand.

  “Dude, hang tight. I’ll come by this weekend. I’ll get you out for a bit.”

  “Thanks, buddy.” Jeremy’s gaze remained on the window next door where his exquisite neighbor had stood in all her glory. His cock ached, desperate for her touch.

  It was going to be a long few days till Brett could visit and distract him. But at least he had visions of Mrs Valentine to keep him company until then.

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  About the Author

  Willa Edwards has dreamed about being a writer since she was four years old. When she picked up her first romance novel at fifteen she knew she’d found her place and she’s never looked back.

  She now lives in New York, where she works with numbers at her Evil Day Job and spends her nights writing red-hot tales of erotic romance. When she’s not at her computer, you can usually find her curled up in bed with her two furry babies, her nose pressed to her e-reader.

  Email: willa.c.edwards@gmail.com

  Willa loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.

  Also by Willa Edwards

  Valentine Next Door

  Bound by Fairytales: Wandering Off the Path

  Tied to the Billionaire: Working for Him

  Totally Bound Publishing