“Yes, it does, Ryanne. Now stop moaning about it. It will only be a week. So, when are you coming home?”
Home was now in Florida, where her parents had retired eight years ago when her father took a consulting job with the government. Even though he was retired, he still worked from his office every day from six to three. Ryanne was the only one of her family that still lived in the Charlotte area, two miles away from where they had all been raised.
Glancing around the top of her desk at all the things she would need to have completed in the next two weeks before Christmas, Ryanne shook her head. “I don’t know. I have a lot on my plate at work.”
As a product manager, there was always so much to do from Thanksgiving until March. Everything was about e-commerce and the bottom line, then developing higher retail sales for the next year.
“Work. That is all you ever talk about. You never take time off.”
Oh, here comes the guilt trip. “Mom, I was just home for Thanksgiving.”
“That was only for two days and you went back home early Saturday morning.”
“That’s because you, Meeya, and Brook almost shopped my feet off. How many toy stores can a person go into just for one sale item?”
“Amelia and Brook are thrifty. They get it from me. You and Devyn are like your father. What you want, you get, no matter the price.”
It was true; she and her brother Devyn hated shopping, like their father. Gynger didn’t care either way. When they were growing up, her mother always went grocery shopping on Tuesday, after she’d gotten the coupons from the Sunday paper and went through the grocery store’s weekly shopper on Monday.
“Thank goodness for online shopping.”
“Takes all the fun out of it. Can you at least be in by Thursday? On Friday we want to take all the kids to the indoor ice-skating rink, maybe even roast marshmallows in the backyard and have hot cocoa.”
Ryanne knew that meant the first day of “oh, Ryanne, once you have kids” comments. Those comments weren’t as bad as the ones that followed her parents’ evening by the lights for couples. After the kids were asleep, the adults would go to the annual Nights of Lights Festival in St. Augustine. That meant she would be the odd duck out while spouses hugged and snuggled close and she kept getting the pitiful “poor Ryanne doesn’t have anyone” looks.
She always loved holiday lights and couldn’t resist going. Her buffer, Aunt Mildred, kept an eye on the kids and teens at the house, so that left Ryanne, the single woman, standing out. Simply the thought of it all made Ryanne wish she could just stay home. Looking around her desk, she realized that may not be a stretch.
“I can’t make any promises on when I’m coming in.” Leaning back in her seat, she crossed her legs and picked a piece of lint from her skirt.
“Oh, Rye dear, I wish you would think of family more than your ca—”
“Sorry, Mom, I have a meeting I am late for. I love you. I’ll call when I have more concrete plans.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” Her mom’s sigh was heavy. “Just think about what I said. I don’t want you to miss out on all the activities.”
“I will. Hug Dad for me. Bye.” She tapped the End Call button on her cell phone, then tossed it on her desk. It slid until it bumped her computer monitor.
Man, she hated lying to her mother, but Thanksgiving had only been a few weeks ago and it had been grueling enough. She loved her family; she and her sisters and brother were very close, but the more spouses and children they added to the family the more pressure Ryanne was under.
Rising, she walked over to the small window on one of the side walls of her office. As a junior product manager, she was just happy to have four walls and a door. She’d spent her first three years in a cubicle until her promotion a year and a half ago. Unlike the other managers, her window didn’t face the city; it faced away instead. She had an excellent view of the parking garage across the street, and the interstate, and if she pressed her face to the glass just so, she could see the edge of the Charlotte Panthers’ stadium.
The attendant in the garage across from her was wearing a Santa Claus hat, most likely the same one he’d had on since she had returned to work after Thanksgiving. It fit the soft holiday music that was playing from someone’s office.
Leaning her shoulder against the wall as she gazed out the window, she remembered the excited note in her mother’s voice when she’d brought up getting a hotel room. Her mother was always awaiting news that she had begun to date. If encouraged, her mother would already be thinking about wedding bells and bassinets.
Hell, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to bring a man home for Christmas, or that she didn’t still have hopes of one day meeting the right guy and settling down. It was just that most of the guys around her were already married or just looking to get laid. She’d read an article once that said corporate women should try and look outside of men in “corporate fields” to date and that career women’s standards were too high.
That was all well and good, if a person wasn’t stuck inside an office all day. She’d tried online dating, but at almost six feet tall, it hadn’t taken her long to discover that most men lied on their profiles. “Six feet” meant a man was five-seven. “Six-three” meant he wore thick-soled boots and he was only five-nine out of them.
Height was only the smallest thing that men lied about online. If she dated another man who was living in his parents’ basement like a comical country song, she’d scream.
Shaking her head, Ryanne went back to her desk. Dating had been put on the back burner since she got promoted. Sometimes she wondered why it was that she couldn’t have at least been like the women in evening dramas who had hot flings with a coworker.
However, none of her coworkers appealed to her. Not even sexy Todd Collins, who seemed to be staring at her crotch as if he could see through her skirt or pants. She was pretty sure he was packing some kind of venereal disease. As much as she’d like to get laid, and laid well, she didn’t want to risk something using a condom as a bridge from his sex to hers.
Eventually, she would have to call her mother back and give her a firm date on when she would be flying in, but she would put it off as long as possible. Maybe she’d circumvent her mother and just call her dad on his cell; probably a better plan.
Pulling up the consumer reports database she was establishing for one of her newer clients, whose current method of following shopper trends was atrocious, she buried herself back in work. It was past lunch already. If she wanted to make it home to have a decent dinner, then she needed to make headway. Thinking about her nonexistent sex life, with a nonexistent man, was not going to get her anywhere.
An hour later, her computer made the sound of a bubble bursting, letting her know she had an interoffice e-mail. A small pop-up notice told her it was from her boss, Joe Jacobs. Deciding not to ignore it, she minimized the database screen and went to her inbox.
Her boss was requesting that she attend the coming retail convention in Denver. She checked the dates for the convention and knew how she’d “lucked up” and got it—it was the week leading in to Christmas. Since the holiday was on a Tuesday this year, most of the higher-ranking managers and executives were taking the whole week before as vacation, as they did every year. She, unfortunately, would have only Friday to Wednesday, over either Christmas or New Year’s.
In her boss’s e-mail, he explained that she would leave out on Sunday and come back on Friday before Christmas. Technically, that meant she could be at her parents’ house by Friday night. Maybe she could stretch it to Sunday. Yippee.
Like a good girl, she promptly typed a confirmation response to Mr. Jacobs. There wasn’t much need for anything more, because his e-mail held all the details she would need. The only thing she had to do was book her flight, which the company would add to her check as reimbursement after she returned.
The bursting bubble sound came from her computer again. The next message, from her coworker Mattie, was entitled “All the Single Ladies
”. Ryanne smiled, wondering if her friend was planning another girl’s night out for New Year’s Eve. Ryanne hoped so, because she didn’t want to ring in the new year alone.
The message read:
Hey, girl. I got this from my cousin. It sounds like fun. I can’t go. Bob and I will be in Hawaii for the holiday. Thought you’d like it or at least get a laugh. Mattie.
Bob was Mattie’s new boyfriend. They had become inseparable over the last month. Ryanne scanned the rest of the message and realized it was an ad for some ski resort in Starview, Colorado for a week-long singles Christmas retreat. Rolling her eyes, Ryanne closed the e-mail. She didn’t even ski, not to mention she didn’t know where the hell Starview was.
How desperate would a person have to be to drop herself in the middle of a bunch of singles? Single men, her mind pointed out.
Putting Mattie’s e-mail out of her mind, Ryanne printed the packet of info from her boss.
####
Other Titles by Yvette
Santa’s Helper
Speed Dating
The Marriage Clause
Holiday Affair
Take This Man
Golden Treasure
Ho, Ho, Ho and a Dom
Bet on a Mistletoe
Making the Man
Lady Justice
Trusting St. Nick
Shot at Love
Internet Rebound
Secured Heart
On The Prowl
Rescued Mate
Heated Restraints
Arrested Heart
Prisoner of Desire
Designed for Love
We Go Together
A Piece of Me
The Club
What White Boyz Desire
By Invitation Only
Cinnamon Buns
To Have and To Hold
Stealing the Bride
Love in the Afternoon
Nightie Night
Secret Delights
Pleasuring the Queen
Bound for Christmas
Rekindling Christmas
Bear’s Gold
Red’s Bear
Red Hots
About the Author
I’m just Yvette Hines. An erotica author who loves pleasurable hours between the sheets, whether it is a blended tale of interracial lovers, the clandestine bite and wicked passion of a paranormal lovers or the sting of a commanding whip against tender flesh. Even better, make my day and toss in two gorgeously decadent men who only want to pleasure their woman. Oooh, yeah, now we’re talking. I write erotica because I love it.
I’m a Scorpio, so I’m sensual by nature and that just makes me naughty. I’ve been penning erotic tales, on the hedonistic side of romance genre, since 2006. I’m married to my best friend. A guy who makes me laugh ‘til I can’t breathe. A man who steals my breath every time he walks into a room.
I enjoy long walks on the beach… Well, I do, but really, I love meeting readers, going to conferences, writing with my fellow authors in a coffee shop, attending BDSM events and Christmas. What do I write? Short and Sexy, Sensual Erotica. Yup, that’s me, SASSE Yvette Hines.
Email: [email protected]
Website Address: http://yvettehines.com
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/sassesheets/
Facebook Address: Author Yvette Hines
FollowMe on Twitter: @sasseYvetteH
Yvette’s Toy Shop: http://www.sextoyfun.com/SASSE-Yvettes-Eroticshop
*~*~*~*
Her Xmas Present
By Christin M Lovell
Her Xmas Present
By Christin Lovell
It’s been nearly a year since plus size Libby has seen her best friend, Tyler. One look at him though and all of her old, more-than-friendly feelings return. But a good-looking guy like him couldn’t find her attractive… Could he?
Ty has been away from the woman of his dreams for nearly a year, and every day has been torture. He’s decided that he’s ready to take the leap. He had to know. Could Libby love him as more or would all their years of friendship be too much to risk?
Warning: This book contains hot chocolate, marshmallows, a sexy lawyer and a lot of naughty.
For all the sexy, curvy women in the world and the wonderful, handsome men who love every inch of them.
Chapter One
OLIVIA
“Hey, city slicker.” I wrapped my arms tightly around Ty, instantly feeling the warmth of his hard body against me. I fought the desire building in all my intimate places, trying instead to stay focused on welcoming home my best friend two days before Christmas.
“Damn, I’ve missed you.” He eagerly returned my embrace, lifting my feet off the floor.
“Stop before you throw your back out!” I swatted at his arms.
He laughed, kissing my cheek as he planted my feet back on the welcome mat. He pulled back, his brown eyes piercing my own. “I’ve missed you, Olivia.” His voice was solemn, endearingly sincere.
“Not more than I’ve missed you.” I gave him a shy smile, unsure of where the awkwardness was coming from.
This was Tyler Russell: my best friend since kindergarten; the boy who beat up kids for picking on me about my chub, the boy who scouted for lizards, frogs and worms over an entire summer once, the boy who dared me to do more things than I ever would have done on my own.
Of course, he wasn’t a boy anymore. He’d grown into a sexy-as-sin man that I wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to. He stood just over six feet tall, a fine hunk of solid, lean muscle; his short, dark brown hair was spiked upwards, styled to perfection like always. His clothes were a far cry from my frumpy attire, drawing attention to his delicious frame before your eyes moved up to his beautiful, perfectly balanced features. His nose was well-defined, and he had a strong, sharp jaw; yet, there was a certain softness to his features that always gave him a youthful appearance; although, his brown eyes and pouty lips erased any illusion of innocence. He fed every woman between the lines with his signature smirk or the devilish sparkles in his eyes.
Unfortunately, I was never one of those women that he flirted with wholeheartedly. He looked at me more like his sister, rather than a potential girlfriend; that was, if he could even get past my excess stuffing. He usually dated thinner women; women who were cute and petite. I was the complete opposite of petite, wearing a size twenty-two, and far from cute, with almost thirty candles on my birthday cake.
A breeze rustled between us in the doorway, sending a chill through me. I shivered, taking a quick step back. Despite the two layers of socks protecting my toes and the oversized, flannel pajama pants and thick hoodie covering my plus size body, I was still cold. I’d always been that way though. I would hate to see how cold I’d get without my extra layer of fat that doubled as added insulation.
He stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. Black jeans elongated his athletic figure. A black sweater under a grey wool jacket with a red scarf gave him the appearance of an Abercrombie & Fitch model. Tyler had always been a pretty boy. If I didn’t know and love him, I’d be intimidated to talk to him; he was that beautiful to me. I never stopped wanting him throughout these last ten years.
My heart definitely suffered when he moved to the city a year ago, because when he went a few towns over to finish his law degree, he returned every weekend…but not this time. Now, the city was several hours away instead of just one, and my life hadn’t been the same without him. I knew he didn’t love me the same way I loved him, and I didn’t want to risk our friendship by revealing my true feelings; twenty-four years was too long to throw away. Yet, knowing this didn’t lighten the weight I felt on my chest each time I talked to him.
His gaze swept over me. “You look good, Lib.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Stop.” I rolled my eyes and headed for the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.
“Your parents’ house is just how I remember it.” He took off his scarf and jacket, toss
ing them over the back of the couch before following me.
“Did you expect everything to change while you were away?”
He watched me for a minute as I stirred the milk and cream on the stove. “I hope not.” There was something in his voice, something wistful yet broken that stopped me in my tracks.
I set the wooden spoon down and faced him; unable to bite my tongue any longer. My heart broke as the distance that used to physically be between us seemed to have carried and transplanted itself in my house. We were together, but it didn’t feel like old times.
“What’s wrong, Ty? You’re not yourself right now.”
Chapter Two
TYLER
Shit. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. Damn. I should have known she would. Libby knew me better than anyone else, better than my own family.
My time away from her only showed me just how much I loved her, and not in a best friend sort of way. Somehow, over the years, my love for her had turned intimate. My dreams went from a laughing Libby throwing mud balls at me to a sexy, sensual Libby doing an erotic strip tease for me.
Seeing her now made the visual flash vividly in the forefront of my mind.
Her ample curves had always been a draw for men since we’d been out of high school. Because men, not boys, know how to handle a real woman’s body; and damn, did I want to handle hers!
Fuck. I shifted my legs, trying to ease the ache in my groin; but with her big, doe eyes gazing up at me innocently, her lips slightly puckering as she studied me intently and her powerfully alluring breasts rising and falling with each breath, I was fucked.
I looked away, scrubbing my forehead. Her parents’ house had been a gathering place for us growing up since she was an only child and my five brothers were annoying as shit. After her dad - then her mom - passed, I was happy she inherited their house, but not for the reason I ought to be. It was because I could so easily picture us raising our own children here.
A Naughty Little Christmas (Cowboys, Cops, and Kilts: 8 Seasonally Seductive Romances from Bestselling Authors) Page 51
