Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology

by Leisa Rayven

  I wish I could talk to him. He'll be just as disappointed about this as I am. Maybe more. After all, I haven't been the one filming in a frozen wasteland for months. I'm sure he's more than ready for a solid dose of sunshine.

  Hearing the wind howl outside, I fear the sun may never shine again.

  I'm on the verge of dozing off when there's an extra bright flash of lightning, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Three seconds later, the lights go out.

  "You have to be freaking kidding me!"

  With a grunt of frustration, I swallow the rest of my wine and climb out of the tub. This is ridiculous.

  Moving carefully by candlelight, I pull on one of the fluffy, white bathrobes hanging on the wall and proceed to brush my teeth so roughly, my gums bleed. Feeling sorry for myself, I take a candle, go back into the bedroom, and climb into bed.

  As I sink into the luxurious mattress, I feel like I'm surrounded by emptiness. A giant empty house. A huge empty bed. Empty arms where Liam should be.

  I sigh and close my eyes, and I'm horrified when the words from Annie start echoing in my brain:

  The sun'll come out ... tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun.

  Stuff it, you perky ginger.

  SIX

  He Knows When You're Awake

  I don't sleep well. Nightmares about being held down on a stone altar while Espírito Vingativo prepares to sacrifice me to the gods make me toss and turn for hours. The weather doesn't help. Even though the intensity of the storm lessens, the wind continues to howl around the house, making it sound like the island is screaming.

  I don't know what time it is when I stagger to the bathroom, but the power is still out and the candles have burned down, so I try not to bump into anything in the darkness.

  When I'm done, I head back into the bedroom. Just before I climb back into bed, there's movement out the corner of my eye, and as I turn, I see the outline of a man standing right in front of me.

  "Jesus Christ!"

  As soon as I open my mouth to scream, the shadow lunges forward and grabs me. My back hits the wall as a huge, wet hand closes over my mouth.

  On instinct, I thrash against him, trying to get free, but he's tall and strong, and when he lays his weight against me, I can barely move.

  "Hey, calm down. It's me. Shhh. It's just me."

  His voice sends goosebumps up my spine the same instant the lightning flashes to give me a better look at his face.

  As recognition hits my brain, he lets me go and stands back. "Sorry for the scare. Didn't realize the power was out."

  "Oh, my God, Liam!" I throw my arms around his neck, and he pulls me into a tight hug. His hair is down to his shoulders and soaked, and I feel the roughness of his beard as he presses his face into my neck.

  "How did you get here?" I ask. "I thought you were stranded until the storm passed."

  He tightens his grip and says, "If you think a little bad weather is going to keep me from my woman, then you're underestimating my desperate, pathological need for you."

  I notice he's dripping onto the floor. "Wait, did you swim here?"

  He chuckles. "Are you kidding? Even ducks are drowning out there right now." He strokes my back. "I might be desperate, but I'm not suicidal."

  "Then how?"

  "It's a long story, but just in case the Brazilian police come calling tomorrow to track down some crazy American who commandeered a luxury yacht, you know nothing." He pulls back and looks at me. "I can't believe I'm here with you. Jesus, Liss. I can't ..." He shakes his head. "You don't even know how I'm feeling right now. I've missed you so fucking much."

  He leans down and cautiously presses his lips against mine. I inhale as a jolt of electricity hits me that's more powerful than all of the lightning outside. While we were apart, I thought I remembered how intense our chemistry was. How being with him lit napalm beneath my skin. I was wrong. Whatever thigh-tingling memories I had of how Liam Quinn affects me were a pale, sad imitation of the explosive, knee-buckling reality.

  With a sharp inhale, he changes the angle of his mouth and sucks gently on my lips, first the top, then the bottom. Lord, how he tastes and smells. Perfect.

  At first he's hesitant, like he doesn't remember how to kiss me. I don't blame him. It's been so long, I'm not sure I remember, either. But our instincts return quickly, and when that happens, our mouths open and tongues slide until we devolve into a mess of grasping hands and primal, desperate noises.

  I try to feel him all at once. Reclaim the body I've been craving. He seems to do the same as he moves his hands into my hair and grinds against my stomach. The shape and feel of him is both brand new and completely familiar. Even though his wild hair and lumberjack beard are different, for the first time in months I feel whole. His lips are as intoxicating as they've always been, and the soft but insistent sweep of his tongue has me clawing for more.

  "Your beard feels weird," I say as I pull back, breathless and dizzy.

  "Yeah?" He looks down and tugs on the tie that's keeping my robe closed. "Good weird or bad weird?" He pushes open the robe and grazes his hands over my naked waist.

  I suck in a breath and scrape my nails through his facial hair. "I'm not sure. Better kiss me again so I can decide."

  This time when he kisses me, there's no hesitation. It's full on, one-hundred-percent turbo-charged Liam. He shoves my robe off my shoulders with rough hands and sets my body on fire with his fingers while his mouth throws gasoline on the flames.

  I'm unprepared to feel so much so soon and grip his shoulders in an attempt to stay upright. My system goes into overload. It's gotten used to being bored and safe, not aroused so thoroughly I have real concerns I might pass out.

  "So you like the island?" Liam asks as he charts a path of hot kisses down my neck toward my chest.

  "It's amazing." When he cups my breasts, I have to lean against the wall for support.

  "And the house?" He falls to his knees and kisses the side of my breast, then the top, then the nipple.

  I squeeze my eyes closed and grip his broad shoulders. "Yeah, it's ... good."

  He stops circling his tongue around my nipple and makes a noise. When I open my eyes, I find him staring up at me with a perplexed expression. "That's it? I search the world to find you the perfect island with the perfect house, and all you have to say about it is 'it's good'?"

  I tighten my fingers on his shoulders. "Liam, I'm so turned on right now I'm flat out defying gravity, so maybe we can have a conversation about my vocabulary when I'm more lucid. For example, after you make me come."

  "Then this conversation is never happening, because I'm going to spend the next four weeks making you come."

  "Big talk."

  "Don't think I'm serious?"

  "I've yet to see the evidence."

  "Fine. Prepare to have your mind blown. Then you can tell me how 'good' it is."

  He closes his mouth over my nipple, and the wave of pleasure that hits me is so strong, I cry out. Not content with teasing one breast, he uses his hand on the other, and the effect is just as powerful.

  "God, I've missed you girls," he mutters to my chest. "I'm pretty sure you've missed me, too."

  My eyes have adjusted enough to see him in the dim light. I'm not going to lie, his perfect face framed by all that hair is freaking sexy. I push my hands into it and urge him to go lower.

  He looks up and arches a brow. "Liss, if you want me to put my mouth on a certain part of your body, all you have to do is ask." He grazes his hands up the backs of my thighs until he reaches my ass, then squeezes as he lays open-mouthed kisses across my stomach. "Or if you're desperate, you could beg. That’d work, too."

  I'm so high on pleasure and expectation, I'm having trouble getting enough air. It doesn't help when he nibbles on my hip.

  I swear and press my head back into the wall.

  "Liss?" He rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Don't you have anything to say?"

>   "I..." I suck in enough breath to speak. "I'd just like to remind you that ... there's more to me than just my breasts."

  "Oh, I'm aware. Believe me." He kisses the top of my thigh and traces one finger down from my belly button to where I'm aching so fiercely, it borders on pain. "As much as I adore your breasts, what I've been craving to taste lies a little farther south." He grabs my left leg and pushes it over his shoulder, then closes his eyes and nuzzles me.

  "Oh, God. Please, Liam. Please, please, please."

  "Very nice begging. I approve." He puts his lips right against me and whispers, "Now be quiet and let me concentrate, because I aim to enjoy this."

  Swollen and desperate, I'm nearly vibrating with anticipation when he unexpectedly lifts me up the wall. I squeal and grip his hair as he draws up to his full height, positioning my thighs over his shoulders.

  "I've got you," he reassures me with a mischievous grin. "But if you feel the need to keep tugging on my hair like that, I won't complain."

  Before I can process that he's somehow gotten sexier since I last saw him, he pushes his face between my thighs and finally lets me experience the full force of his magic mouth.

  "Oh, sweet Jesus! Liaaaaam!"

  He lifts and maneuvers me until I'm exactly where he wants me, before using his mouth to take control of my body like he was born to do it. Within minutes, he has me so wound up I'm on the verge of hyperventilation.

  "Please," tumbles from my lips with embarrassing frequency as he drags me to the edge of my first orgasm in months.

  "A little needy there, Liss?"

  I groan and push against the wall to try and get his mouth back on me. "Liam ... please."

  "Please, what?"

  I'm so desperate for release, I let out a noise that's half laughter, half sob. "Please, don't stop."

  He grips my waist with both hands before pulling me away from the wall and striding over to the giant bed. When he gets there, he throws me into the center of it like I weigh nothing.

  After removing his t-shirt and throwing it on the floor, he gives me a dark smile. "If you think I have any intention of stopping before I give you the orgasm of your life, then you've forgotten who the fuck you're engaged to."

  A sense of primal urgency quickens his movements as he pulls off his shoes and socks and tosses them away. When he's barefoot in his jeans, he stops for a moment to stare hungrily at my nakedness. "Christ, you're beautiful. Now lay back, my darling wife-to-be, and spread your legs. I have work to finish."

  Moving with determination, his chest and arms ripple when he grabs my ankles and drags me to the edge of the bed. Then he sinks to his knees and closes his hands around my hips before covering my inner thighs with hot, hungry kisses. Dizzy and helpless, I grip the duvet cover and try to keep breathing.

  This time he takes it slower, but the build is even more powerful. He kisses me everywhere and nowhere, using light nibbles to drive me insane. It doesn't take long for him to have possession of every nerve. He's like a master fisherman, reeling in a giant Marlin a little at a time, pulling the line as tight as he can without breaking it.

  When his mouth finally closes over me again, I'm so needy I nearly sob with relief. This time, I know he's not going to stop. He builds momentum like a boulder rolling down a mountain, increasing his suction as he slowly pushes long fingers inside.

  God, it's too much. Too full. Too many layers of pleasure. I grip his hair and feel the low pulses of my orgasm begin to fire. All of my limbs tense, rigid with impatience, and I teeter there, paralyzed while my lungs seize in my chest.

  "Liam ... Liam ... Liam." I say his name in ecstasy over and over again, and just when I think it's been so long since I've orgasmed that I've forgotten how, everything snaps and unwinds with such power, a strangled moan pours out of me.

  For long, pleasure-filled seconds, my orgasm hits me in waves, and when it finally fades, I feel like I've melted into the plush mattress.

  "Jesus, I've missed that." Liam sinks onto the bed beside me and strokes my hair away from my face as I try to regain my breath. Minutes later, my semi-lucid brain registers him scooping me up. When he lays me gently beneath the covers, I slip further into unconsciousness. He slides in beside me and presses his long, warm body against mine.

  Instinctively, I curl into him, and he puts his arm around me and pulls me into his chest.

  "Liam ... I—" I'm interrupted by a yawn that won't be denied.

  I can feel him smile against my temple as he strokes my hair. "Sleep, Liss. We can do all of this again tomorrow, I promise. We're together now. That's all that matters."

  I want to tell him I don't need sleep. That I want to pleasure him as much as he just did me, but the comfort of being wrapped in his arms is too intoxicating. Against my will, I succumb to the slow, steady drag of sleep.

  As I drift off, I smile when a low groan of contentment rumbles in Liam's chest.

  ···

  By the time I open my eyes, the storm has passed and the sun has come out of hiding.

  What do you know? Annie was right.

  I have to blink a few times to make sure I'm awake when I identify the warm piece of man-meat wrapped around me. He's here. Despite everything conspiring to keep us apart, we're finally together. With that knowledge, I smile so wide, my cheeks hurt.

  We're facing each other with his arm beneath my head, legs tangled together. I can't describe how wonderful it feels to finally wake up next to the man I love. As for Liam, he still looks completely out of it. His eyes are moving beneath his eyelids, and his breath comes in short, shallow gusts.

  I push myself up onto my elbow to get a better look at him. Even with his new Grizzly Adams makeover he's the most handsome man I've ever seen, but I also notice the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of his skin. After his insane shooting schedule and having to fight through the storm, I can only imagine how exhausted he is.

  I look down at his body and see a few bruises and some nasty scratches. I know by now they're a result of him insisting on doing most of his own stunts, and I'm as unhappy about that as his insurance company. But the one thing I know about Liam is that when he makes up his mind, there's little anyone can to do change it. His determination is just one of the many things I love about him.

  "Noooo. No peas." He frowns and pouts. "Noooo, Ma, donwanem." I smile as he mumbles something unintelligible before flopping onto his back.

  How he can be completely adorable and sexy as sin at the same time is beyond me.

  I use his lack of consciousness to my advantage and carefully climb out of bed to go shower and brush my teeth. It's probably stupid to want to make a good early-morning impression considering where we are in our relationship, but I don't care. I want to smell awesome for him.

  When I'm feeling fresh as a daisy, I wrap myself in a robe and climb back into bed to watch him sleep. As I study him, I wonder if it's normal to be this fascinated by one man. To be fair, he's no ordinary man. Even unconscious, Liam Quinn is strangely compelling to watch.

  After a while, he starts mumbling again before throwing off the covers to reveal he's naked except for his navy boxer briefs.

  Well, hellooooo, Mr. Quinn.

  The dark fabric hugs every aroused inch of him, and when he starts to make noises that sound suspiciously porny, my resolve to let him sleep dissolves.

  "As if any other woman would have lasted this long," I whisper to myself. "I mean, for the love of God, look at him."

  I lean over and lift the waistband of his underwear. If I can just get them down without waking him, I can surprise him with a little good morning oral.

  I hold my breath as I peel the boxers far enough down his hips to fully reveal his erection. Then I take a few moments to marvel at the glory of my future husband.

  I'm about to run a finger down his length when a hand snaps out and grabs my wrist.

  "And what the hell do you think you're doing, Miss Holt?"

  I look over to find him assessi
ng me with bleary eyes."Ahhhh, nothing. Just saying good morning."

  "To my cock?"

  "Well, he was awake, and you weren't. It would have been rude to ignore him."

  "Of course he was awake. I was dreaming about you." He tucks himself back into his underwear. "Better stay back. You have no idea how close he was to exploding in your face. You could have been killed."

  I raise an eyebrow. "Killed?"

  "Well, okay, maybe not killed, but if he'd gone off in your eye, it would have stung like hell. Believe me, I know."

  "Oh, really?" I suppress a smile. "You've friendly fired yourself in the face?"

  He turns onto his side and props his head on his hand. "Of course. Most men have. It's not like that stuff always comes out at the same velocity. Sometimes it's like opening a warm champagne, and sometimes it's like that science experiment where you drop Mentos into a bottle of Pepsi, and the whole thing explodes in a huge geyser of stickiness."

  I laugh and stroke his face. "You should trademark that name."

  "Huge Geyser of Stickiness?"

  "Yeah, just in case you ever decide to make a porno."

  "Is that so?" In a flash, he flips me onto my back and presses both my hands into the mattress. "And would you star in this porno with me?" He tries to act serious, but I can see his mouth quirk.

  "Of course. My porn name is Horatio Sixty-Second."

  He closes his eyes and moans, "Holy shit, baby. That's so fucking hot."

  I manage to get my hands free long enough to push him off. He laughs as he rolls onto his side.

  "Listen," I say, and slap his chest, "I'll have you know that name’s scientifically formulated. It’s my first pet plus the street where I grew up. When I was five, I had a regal goldfish called Horatio Swimsalot the Third, and I grew up on 62nd street, so there. The name is legit."

  He puts his hands behind his head. "Well, by that logic, my porn name is Wigglebottom Washington."

  I burst out laughing. "Oh, my God. That's so perfect for you. Wigglebottom!"