Table of Contents
Under the Christmas Tree
Epilogue
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Under the Tree
Dréa Riley and Nikki Winter
Copyright © 2011 by Dréa Riley and Nikki Winter
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright.
This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.
Published by
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Colfax, NC 27235
www.beautifultroublepublishing.com
Cover Art: Marteeka Karland http://www.marteekakarland.com/
Editor: Cindy Davis, http://www.fiction-doctor.com/
Proofreader: Novellette Whyte
http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/
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ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-179-4
We wish you a Merry Christmas, We wish you a Merry Christmas, We wish you a Merry Christmas and a flamethrower this year.
Just kidding, cuz they won’t let us hand out flamethrowers.
We hope your holidays are bright and you find everything you wish for
Under your tree this year.
—Love,
The Twins
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Caveat
This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.
Under the Christmas Tree
“Babe, seriously I was sitting there listening to my mom talking about how we were having some damn international blah blah blah meal and I mean I just—can’t even explain it. My dad was looking like he was ready to cry.”
“I can’t believe no one in your family spoke up.”
“I thought for sure Uncle Raymond might spit his dentures out on the table when she said the first course was going to be like Balinese or something.”
His deep rumbling chuckle vibrated her ear.
“Baby don’t laugh, this is serious.”
“Then I was standing behind the fridge beating my head on the wall when Carla lay out how pissed she was and boy, everyone went in on her. It was so wrong. She put them in their place, grabbed all the gifts she had bought, and rolled out. I figure she was heading to the coffee shop to unwind.”
“I told her she could take the presents to your friend’s house...All those kids he is taking in, they deserve a good Christmas and Carla deserves someone beside our family.”
“You are right baby, they do deserve a good Christmas, and so do you and Carla.”
“Yeah, we do, but please don’t start that mess about going to your parents. I’m not eating nuts and berries, and none of those hippie free-range nothings.”
“GIRL, get off my family,” Rafe teased “Besides, you said you had fun, that it was very...worldly. Look, at least your parents stuck with some stuff that was plausible, it was just the decorations and the fake tumbleweed Christmas tree.”
“I know, they think since they moved to Texas they’re real cowboys. Who in the hell ever heard of hippie cowboys? And can we call my mom a cowboy—shouldn’t it be cowgirl? I think its cowperson.” Rafe would have gone on if Simone hadn’t interrupted him at that moment.
“We live in Texas, not Cali, surfer-boy, there is no political correctness here.”
“When are you coming home?”
“As soon as you say we can have Christmas at our house. No, we are not putting both our families together. Remember the dashiki Mom made Dad wear to our wedding? I’m just saying I need to ensure that I’m having the good stuff for Christmas, as in turkey, ham, dressing—”
“ME,” he interrupted.
“Oh, I’m having like two or three servings of you, and then a nap.”
“Mmm, come on home so we can start celebrating early.”
“Mmm, you talking good now boy—like ham-hocks and collard greens good.”
“I tell you what. You abandon the nuthouse and I’ll make you feel good; like sweet potato pie and banana pudding with extra 'nilla wafers good.”
Simone didn’t hesitate. She was grabbing her coat before he even finished the sentence.
“Where are you going?” her big brother Junior asked.
“Away from ya’ll. That shit you pulled with Carla earlier wasn’t cool, and you know it.”
“So what? You abandoning family, too?”
Simone shrugged into her coat. “I can’t abandon what I’ve never had. My family walked out the door twenty minutes ago due to a bunch of jackasses. Now I’m going home to my husband where I can get rode hard and put down soft after real food.”
She went to step around him but he blocked her and glared down at her. “You’re just like her.”
Simone rubbed the back of her neck. “If you don’t get out of my way, you’re going to be just like the both of us...a woman, because I’m going to take my foot and kick your balls into orbit.”
He scoffed. “Girl, please. Ain’t nobody scared of…OUCH GOT-DAMMIT, SIMONE!” Junior went down hard, one knee kicked out from under him.
Stepping over him, she dusted imaginary lint off her coat. “Happy holidays, Junior.”
Things had turned to shit earlier when Carla finally stepped up and let the rest of their gathering know what she thought about the new “tradition.” It was bullshit, all of it. There’d be no home-cooked food, no opening one gift at midnight, no sleigh rides—none of it. The new tradition would be them sitting around some international buffet with a bunch of strangers before everybody went their separate way. Carla did so much for everybody and asked little in return—just that when she came to town every so often there’d be a meal and an actual family who appreciated her.
Simone was alone in that regard. Since she and Carla were the closest in age they had a stronger bond than any of the other kids. While Carla was older by just a few years, she never lorded that over Simone’s head like their other sister and older brothers.
Carla had always been the one who didn’t judge when she fucked up. She was more likely to slap her upside the head and go, “That’s life, kid.”
Now everyone had screwed her over and Simone had only one idea how to make it right. Hopefully it worked. She’d call tomorrow and ask, but for now she was going home to her man.
***
“Ma, I promise we’ll come spend the day with you guys tomorrow. Tonight it’s just going to be me and Simone. I have a surprise planned for us.”
“How is it a surprise for the both of you if you’re the one planning it?”
“Because I am benefiting from it an
d you would too if you’d get off the phone—OUCH!” Rafe put his thumb in his mouth and sucked on it to stop the throbbing. The cloth in his hand had slipped slightly as he’d pulled the tray of homemade honey butter rolls out of the oven. Being a chef had its advantages. Getting injured wasn’t one of them.
“Watch what you’re doing. And how am I going to benefit from my baby boy and favorite girl not coming here for the holidays?”
Rafe said one word, “Babies.”
“Love you. Bye.” With that, his Mom hung up.
He chuckled as he stared down at the island in his domain. There was spicy fried turkey, lemon pepper roasted chicken, brown sugar ham, stuffing, green bean casserole, rolls, banana pudding, and last but not least Simone’s favorite—sweet potato pie.
Rubbing his hands together, Rafe grinned as he thought about the reward he would get for this. “Merry Christmas to me.” He started plating stuff while giggling like a little kid and an evil genius rolled into one.
Once the task was done he set the plates exactly where they were supposed to go and grabbed his apron, the one that said “Go ahead and jingle my bells.”
“And now it’s time for the grand finale,” he muttered to himself.
***
Simone stumbled up the walkway from her car to the front door. She could have parked in the garage, but honestly she didn’t have the energy to make one more turn, push one more button—not none of that. She’d raced up to the curb, slammed the brakes, threw the car in Park, and sat there letting the sound of the idling engine soothe her nerves. After hanging up with Rafe she’d met her sister Carla at a local coffee shop, and after making sure Carla understood that she loved her unconditionally, she slipped into the bathroom to confirm her plans to make sure her sister would have a very merry Christmas, She navigated the rush hour traffic from Dallas to her home in the quiet suburbs of The Colonies. She’d be glad when Rafe was ready to move to west Texas. The hustle and bustle of the metroplex was fast pissing her off.
The thought of her husband made her smile. He and his sexy self would more than likely be snoozing before he had to go in to work at the restaurant he owned with friends.
Maybe if she was really quiet she could strip down and snuggle up to him in bed and catch a nap in his arms before he had to leave.
Shivering from both the cold and the thought of being naked in bed with her man, she turned the key in the lock and stepped inside. Before the door could close behind her she had her jacket off. She lifted her nose and smelled a sweet, delicious aroma. A smile tugged at her full lips as she opened her eyes and noticed the plate on the credenza where she was about to drop her purse and keys.
The plate was warm, as if it had just been pulled from the oven, a slice of tender turkey breast and a small medallion of dressing drizzled with gravy and an artistic dab of homemade cranberry compote made her mouth water. The note taped to the mirror made her laugh.
“Just a taste. Wouldn’t want you to get the itis before you find dessert and open your presents.”
Simone tasted the fare and her stomach growled... “Better be a damn good present to make me forget how hungry this is actually making me,” she muttered.
At the end of the hallway she noticed another plate. This one held a forkful of flavorful greens with a chunk of the tender meat from a ham hock.
Several more small plates followed, with all the tastes of Christmas she was afraid would be missing this year: sweet potato soufflé, green beans with almonds and French onions, brown sugar ham, turkey, and mac and cheese. Each little plate fulfilled her desire for food and brought her further into their home until finally she was standing in the living room watching the Christmas tree—that hadn’t been there when she left for her parent’s house—slowly spin on a large dais, with brightly wrapped boxes piled underneath.
The twinkling lights danced off all the ornaments that were so thoughtfully placed. Finally the tree spun and one gift stood out. Under the heavy boughs lay Rafe...in a Santa hat, an apron and a smile. Simone bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning back before saying, “Jingle your bells?”
Her husband waggled his brows before reciting in a child’s voice, “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.” Rafe’s voice dropped back into its usual deep rumble. “So get to work, woman.”
Seeing his six foot five frame, all hard muscles and delicious sand-colored skin, she let her smile bloom. “Looks like Heaven’s getting an air show tonight.”
And then she was headed toward him.
***
Damn, she was sexy. Rafe had already been at half-mast when she stuck her key in the door, but as he listened to the footfalls of her boot-covered feet, each click of her heels bringing her closer and closer to him, he sprang to full-mast. His cock was so hard it looked like the exclamation point for the sentence on his apron as it curved over to the side under the fabric. He watched her hips, the slow rhythm as they moved from side to side with her approach. The sweater dress and tights she had on did nothing to obscure his view of his favorite show in the world. Simone had the type of walk that'd make a man drop to his knees and thank the good Lord for a woman's hips and ass.
She had a grown woman's walk. The kind little girls tried to imitate by practicing with hoola hoops. God had done a mighty work when he created Rafe's wife. Her hourglass shape, cinnamon-shaded skin, full lips, large doe brown eyes and voice...man, that voice. If he even thought about the way she sounded waking up in the morning he was headed for a door knocker within seconds. And right now, with the way her heavy-lidded gaze slid across him, the way the smell of black orchids and juniper oil teased his olfactory glands, and the way she bit the edge of her plump bottom lip like she was as close to exploding as he was—Rafe was thinking that slow and easy had to wait for later.
He sat up and then got to his knees. “Hurry up, Simone.” The time for playing was over. He was ready to start decking some halls and make Simone sing “Joy to the World.”
"Don't rush me. I'm enjoying taking in my present."
“Simone...”
Something had a hold of him and he was feeling every bit of his testosterone. Primal—that was the word for it, straight primal.
“You wanted to be my present now, lemme enjoy you however I choose.”
Impatient now, he growled, “Fuck that.” He was up and had Simone in his arms within seconds. Having already planned to take her on the floor, Rafe laid her out on the small pallet he'd made and tore at her stockings, panties, and everything else, tossing it all over his shoulder. Except the boots....he left those on.
“Rafe.”
Simone panted his name, looked up at him with so much desire in her eyes that it cut his leash. He nipped at her lips, jaw, throat and shoulders. Then he moved down to two of his favorite things in the whole wide world. They were begging for his attention. The chocolate colored areolas were swollen, while her nipples were stiff and stood out. He'd be damned if he’d waste any time. Her gasps and moans encouraged him when he sucked one until it hit the roof of his mouth and then the other before grabbing handfuls of both breasts and pressing them together, nipping, licking, and sucking at them until he felt her shudder underneath him. Her nails raked down his back. Best part about having a wife with sensitive nipples? He could get her to come within a few seconds if he wanted to.
Rafe moved on, trailing his tongue down her stomach to encircle her belly button, her chants of his name and groans making him harder and harder by the second. Damned, if he didn't need a taste first. He found exactly what he was looking for. Her clit peeked out from her folds, straining toward him like it knew what was coming. He didn't disappoint. Rafe wrapped his lips around the small detonation button, gave a good flick of his tongue and a solid pull. He pinned Simone's hips down as he kept licking until a hoarse cry tore from her throat and she went limp.
He pulled away for just a second to take off the apron and throw it across the room. Grabbing her hips, he rolled until he was on his
back with her straddling his thighs. The tip of his dick parted her moist folds and they both hissed in pleasure.
“Ride me, baby,” he half-demanded and half-pled. He needed to be in her so bad that his stomach involuntarily clenched like he was having withdrawals.
His woman didn't wait a second; she lifted up then slammed down on his length so hard Rafe would swear he was seeing the Star of David.
“God...baby...shit...slow down Simone. Ohhh...”
She wasn't listening. Had started rolling her hips in that rhythm he loved. The one that reminded him of all the dance classes she taught. The one that reminded him of how they met. Simone's hips were made to move and heaven knew they moved to any beat they could. Right now, they were doing the Samba and Rafe felt an explosion coming. But he refused to go over the edge without her. Sitting up, he grabbed her legs to bend them in the crooks of his elbows.
“Oh...fuck...Rafe...”
He thrust his hips in a faster pace, fucked her like she needed to be fucked, nipped her throat again, kissed her eyelids and pressed his lips to her ear.
“You love the way I fuck you, don't you, baby? Love when I go deep. Just.” Thrust. “Like.” Thrust. “This.”
He bought her down so hard against him that she sobbed. “Tell me what it feels like, Simone. Talk to me, baby.”
“Good...Oh God...too good. Right there Rafe...please just don't stop.”
“Never baby, never,” he vowed, then he did what he knew would cause a slow burn to crawl up her spine and spread before making her scream. Leaning up, he latched onto a nipple and bit down gently.
“Rafe!”
That was all it took. Simone was coming and sobbing and gripping his cock so tight with her inner muscles that he went right over with her.
Under the Tree Page 1
