Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology

by Leisa Rayven

  Liam gestures to it with vague disgust. "That's why. I look like a goddamn rhinoceros." He glares down at his crotch. "Why can't you behave yourself, dude? Seriously. Just because Elissa's naked, you don't have to lose your shit. You're a disgrace to penises everywhere."

  I'd laugh if I didn't find the sight of him erect so damn hot. "Actually, I think he's a penile role model. I know a lot of ladies would be thrilled if their men were packing that in their tighty-whiteys."

  "You would think that. You're biased."

  "I am, but that doesn't make it untrue." I stand and walk over to him as he kicks off his shorts. His breathing speeds up when I put one hand on his chest and trail the other along his length. "You know, if it's uncomfortable for you to be this hard, I could always release the pressure." I move closer, and he lets out a hiss when I press my stomach against him.

  He grips my hips to keep me still. "You realize it's illegal for you to be this sexy, right? Torture of any kind is condemned in most countries."

  "I thought you wanted me to torture you with my hotness. Isn't that what you said on the phone?" I move away a little, grab my sunscreen, and smear it on my newly exposed areas. When Liam sees me rubbing it on my breasts, he stops breathing. To really turn up the heat, I make my movements as sensual as possible.

  "Uh ..." He shakes his head, as if to clear it. "Shit, I need to sit down. There's not enough blood in my body to deal with this." He sinks back onto his towel but keeps his eyes on me.

  I cup my breasts and smear lotion over my nipples with my palms. I even add a little moan for extra measure. "I'm so glad we're the only ones on the island. That means if you ravaged me right here on the beach, no one would know."

  His eyes glaze over. "Well, sure. But ... uh ... sex on a beach isn't wise. Sand will get into places it should never be."

  "Then we use the beach hut. Wash the sand off first."

  He squeezes his eyes shut. "You're evil. Sexy as hell but totally evil."

  I kneel next to him and rub my lotion-slick hands across his chest. "No, evil would be leaving you to deal with that massive hard on all by yourself. I'm being a good girl and offering to help."

  He flops back on his towel and presses the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Fuck."

  When I straddle his waist and continue stroking down his abdomen, he makes a strangled noise. "Liss ..."

  "Shhh. Liss is busy right now. You can talk to her later."

  I slide down his body, so I can reach his erection. It's lying on his stomach, heavy and thick.

  It's been so long since I've been up close and personal with him, I feel like Captain Ishmael finding the white whale.

  Thar she blows.

  I rub what's left of the lotion onto his thighs.

  "You don't need to put sunscreen on my cock," he says, still hiding his face.

  "Wasn't intending to. That would taste gross."

  I lean over and lick him from the base to the head. He starts making low, long sounds and moves his hands from his face into his hair. "Jesus Christ ..."

  When I suck gently on the tip, every muscle in his body tenses as he moans. I'd almost forgotten how sexy it is to hear him make those noises and watch him hang on by a thread, knowing I'm the one affecting him like that. It's even more empowering than jungle nudity.

  "You like that?" I ask.

  He tugs as his hair. "Too much. Way too much. I'm trying to not become a giant geyser of stickiness right now, Horatio, but you're not making it easy."

  Smiling to myself, I slide him into my mouth as far as I can, and when I suck in earnest, he yells, "Fuuuuck!" so loudly, it echoes off the nearby cliffs.

  He continues swearing under his breath as I fall into a rhythm, twisting my hand at the base while teasing the head with my mouth. Every pass of my tongue winds him tighter, and it isn't long until he's making noises like he's in pain.

  "Elissaaaa. Fuck, how the hell are you doing that?" His voice is low and rough, and he grips my hair as he thrusts. I want to take him all in at this point, but there's no way I can. "God, Liss ... oh, shit ... ohhhh, Jesus, you're going to make me come."

  Knowing exactly what he needs, I give one final suck before pumping my hand in long strokes until his back arches, and he comes in thick bursts across his stomach and chest. "Yes ... ohhh, God, yes. Lisssss ..." With each wave, he groans my name, and his breath comes in short, uneven gasps.

  When he's done, he collapses so heavily, I wonder if he's passed out.

  "Liam?" He doesn't answer, but his eyelids flutter. "You okay?"

  "No." His voice is a groan, and he barely moves his mouth. "You killed me. Death by orgasm. What a way to go. Just leave me here to rot. The jungle will take care of me."

  I snuggle into his side. "If you're less dead in a few minutes, want to go for a swim?"

  "Sure. Sounds good."

  "By the way, you should wash yourself off before that stuff dries. It'll set like glue. Also, I think I have sand in my vagina."

  He chuckles, still with his eyes closed. "I did warn you."

  "Shhh. Dead men tell no tales."

  EIGHT

  And When You're Good, He Gives You Sex

  The rest of our weekend flies by in a blur of sex, food, and sleep, and by the time Sunday evening rolls around, I'm more than a little exhausted. Turns out, being naked around each other for an extended period of time is a sure-fire way to guarantee we'll behave like total nymphos. For the past two and a half days, we've had sex whenever and wherever we liked, and Liam's impressively short recovery time has often taken me by surprise. I still tingle when I recall how he'd bent me over the kitchen bench while we were making lunch. He'd fucked me so furiously, you'd never have guessed we'd already made love four times.

  Now, we're in bed, watching eighties movies and eating ice cream, and I can't remember a time when I was happier or more satisfied.

  "Hey," I say as Liam swirls some salted caramel around my nipple and licks it off. "Isn't there some big Christmas event on the mainlaind tomorrow night?"

  He presses sticky caramel kisses to my chest and neck. "Hmmm, maybe. Why?"

  "I thought we might go. Alba said there'll be music and fireworks. It sounds like fun. We could spend the afternoon there, see some sights and do some shopping, then go to the parade."

  He leans on one elbow. "What if people recognize me? I came here to get away from all that."

  I stroke the side of his face. "No one will know you with all this hair. We'll be fine."

  "I suppose." He scratches his beard. "Just don't let me go back to New York without getting a shave and a haircut. If my mom sees me looking like this, she'll cancel Christmas."

  "Is Momma Quinn not a fan of beards and long hair?"

  "In general, yes. On her son, no. She thinks they make me look 'uncivilized'."

  I run my hand over his chest and down his abs, loving the way his body immediately reacts to my touch. "I happen to like you uncivilized. Feral Liam is hot. And clearly he's a fan of mine, because he's left his mark all over me."

  He drops his gaze to my neck and my breasts before making his way to my hips, and at each location he studies the blemishes coloring my skin. Some are pale pink shadows and some are deep purple, but there's no denying they're all bruises, and remembering how I got each one makes me want him jump him all over again.

  "You're really okay with all of this?" He caresses the four small bruises on my hip, which match the shape of his fingers, and I see that same concerned look on his face as when he spanked me.

  "I'm more than okay. I enjoy being marked by you."

  He looks up at me. "The other day when I spanked you, I was terrified I'd pushed things too far. I felt bad for hurting you."

  "That's why you freaked?"

  "Yeah."

  I stroke his cheek. "For the record, I've fantasized about you spanking me for ages, and let me tell you, the reality was soooo much hotter."

  "Hmmm, tell me more about what you find hot."

&n
bsp; I put my ice cream down, and climb over to straddle him. "I like it when you're rough. And when you order me around. And when you hold me down and take me exactly how you want." I graze my fingernails down his chest and smile when I feel him harden beneath me. "In fact, maybe we should take things further."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Explore this new dimension of our sex life. Would you like to maybe experiment with ... oh, I don't know ... ropes, perhaps? Handcuffs? Floggers?"

  He pushes his pelvis up to rub against me. "Christ, Liss, just when I think I'm too exhausted to even think about having sex again, you find new ways to excite me. Fuck yes, to all of that. When?"

  I raise myself up so I can reach between us and stroke him. With every firm pass of my hand, he moans and grips my hips.

  "Well," I say, "while I was checking my emails this morning, I accidentally found out there's an interesting store on the mainland, and it happens to be in the same area where the Christmas festival is taking place. What a coincidence."

  "Oh, you accidentally found that out?" he says, his breathing labored.

  I position myself above him, still stroking him as I lean over to kiss his chest. "Uh huh. My fingers slipped on the keyboard and randomly typed sex shop into Google. It was so weird."

  "That is weird. You know what else is weird? That you're not sliding down onto my cock this very second. That's very weird."

  He tries to guide me onto him, but I keep myself just out of reach as I suck on his neck. "Surely you don't want to be inside me again. Aren't you bored with that by now?"

  He grabs the back of my neck and pulls my head back so he can see my face. "Liss, trust me when I say that even if I lived a thousand lifetimes, I'd never get bored of being inside you." I squeal when he flips me onto my back, and then with a low growl in his chest, pushes deep inside me. I wrap my arms and legs around him to pull him even deeper.

  "You're an incredible woman, Elissa Matilda Holt," he says, starting with slow, shallow thrusts that feel so good, I dig my fingernails into his back. "I can't believe you're mine."

  I close my eyes as his thrusts get stronger. "God, Liam, I can't believe you think my middle name is ... Matilda. You're a terrible ... oh, yes ... fiancée."

  He slides his hands into my hair and pulls my head to the side. "What is your middle name, then?"

  "It's--" He circles his pelvis, and he hits something inside of me that makes me see stars. "Oh, God ... it's ... May."

  He drops his mouth to my neck and nips and sucks where he's already marked me. "Noted, Elissa May. Now, do you want to keep talking, or...?"

  "Nope. No talking. Just ... ohhh, fuck."

  "You got it."

  He puts one hand under my butt to give himself a better angle and proceeds to thrust with the focus and determination of a man on a mission to make his woman come as hard as possible. To my delight, he's not only successful, he's also not the least bit gentle.

  NINE

  Liam, Baby

  As I stand on the dock and stare at what's in front of me, I'm at a loss for words. Liam has surprised me, yet again.

  "You're kidding me, right?" I say.

  He stands with his arms crossed over his chest, looking smug as hell. "Not kidding. Very much serious."

  "This is the yacht you 'commandeered' to get here the night of the storm?"

  "Yep."

  "So, you didn't steal it as much as took possession of it."

  "Well, if you want to split hairs, then, sure. I commissioned it months ago and was going to surprise you with a proper christening before her first voyage. But that plan went out the window when I had to use her to get to you. So, yeah. I picked her up early."

  The 'her' he keeps referring to is the most gorgeous luxury yacht I've ever seen. When he said we were taking a boat to the mainland, I expected it to be one of those cheesy tourist charters with cup holders in the seats, not this glistening testament to having too much damn money.

  But it isn't the size or opulence that has me gobsmacked. It's the two words that are emblazoned across the bow in fancy, cursive letters: Elissa May.

  "So, you knew my middle name all along?"

  "Of course. What sort of fiancée would I be if I didn't?"

  "And you named your boat after me?"

  He puts his arm around me and sighs. "Elissa, it's a long maritime tradition for men to name boats after the women they love. Of course I had to scratch Angel's name off it first." He laughs when I elbow him in the ribs.

  "You're not funny," I say.

  "You know that's not true. I'm hilarious."

  He takes my hand and leads me onboard, and I soon discover that the inside of the yacht is even fancier than the outside. It resembles a floating five-star hotel.

  "If we ever get sick of the island," Liam says as he nuzzles my neck in one of the six bedrooms, "we can always sail around the coast for a while. Do some fishing. Be naked at sea."

  After the tour, he casts off and points us toward the mainland, and it doesn't surprise me that seeing Liam drive several hundred tons of nautical machinery is crazy sexy.

  "Where did you learn to drive a boat," I ask suspiciously.

  "Dad's brother had a little fishing boat. Used to take Jamie and me out sometimes and give us lessons. It's not hard." He glances over at me. "You wanna try?"

  I look out at the expanse of ocean in front of us. Guess there's no danger of crashing into anything. "Sure."

  I step up to the big chrome wheel as Liam takes his position behind me.

  "Just like driving a car," he whispers and wraps his arms around my waist. "Hands at ten and two, and keep your eye on the speed."

  Even though I’ve never driven a car, I get the idea. I grip the wheel and follow his directions, and after a few minutes I relax enough to enjoy myself.

  "See?" Liam says, sounding proud. "You're a natural." He points to a panel of brightly lit switches beside me. "Now, press that button."

  "Okay."

  As soon as I press it, Liam shouts, "Not that one, Liss! Jesus Christ, we're going to die!"

  My heart leaps into my throat for a whole three seconds before I realize Liam's shaking with suppressed laughter.

  I whip around and slap him on the shoulder. "You asshole! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

  He turns me back to the wheel, then wraps his arms around me and kisses my neck. "Yes, but it was a sexy heart attack."

  Despite the soothing press of his lips, my heart is still beating out of my chest. "What does that button even do?"

  "I have no idea. I know the ignition switch and the speed gauge. That's it. My guess is that most of these panels are just for show."

  I lean back against him and smile. "You're an idiot."

  He lets me drive until we reach the marina on the mainland before taking over to bring her into dock. Then we take a taxi to a local restaurant Alba and Luis recommended.

  Liam looks around nervously as we enter, worried he'll be recognized, but the maître d' and waitstaff don't bat an eyelid.

  "See?" I say as he sips a local beer. "Nothing to worry about. Here, you're just some random hipster with a man-bun and a beard."

  He glares at me. "I told you what would happen if you continued to call me a hipster, Elissa May, and yet you continue to do it. One might think you're asking to be spanked."

  I try not to smile. "One certainly might."

  He nods in satisfaction. "Then prepare to be punished when we get home."

  Despite looking like he's in control, I don't miss the way he smiles to himself as he stares at me. "I had no idea I was in love with such a freak."

  I grab his shirt front and pull him forward. "You fell in love with me because I'm a freak. And believe me, the feeling's mutual." I give him a long, deep kiss, and we're so wrapped up in each other, we don't notice the server waiting to deliver our food until he clears his throat.

  ···

  After a delicious lunch of authentic Brazilian food, we make our way to a small sh
op with red, opaque windows, and if the two of us thought we were kinky before we went inside, we sure as hell didn't when we came out.

  "Holy shit," Liam whispers as we walk down the street with our comparatively tame collection of handcuffs, rope ties, and various floggers. "Did you see that thing near the door?"

  "Yep."

  "What the hell, Liss?" As soon as Liam had spotted the chrome bar and cage, he'd gone white. It was labeled as a cum-thru urethral plug, and it was the stuff nightmares were made of. "Men put that thing up their cock? How? And why? And how? My dick ran for cover at the sight of it."

  "Lucky you're a Dom then. Your penis can remain free of metal devices of any kind."

  He nods, but he's still pale. I don't want to laugh at how traumatized he is, but I can't help myself. My big, strong man who doesn't blink at jumping off cliffs or participating in death-defying stunts is brought undone by a device that slides up a guy's pee tube.

  Hilarious.

  As we head toward where the concert and fireworks are happening, the area becomes more crowded. Street vendors hawk their wares, and kids beg their parents to buy them stuff. Bright, Brazilian music pours from nearly every doorway.

  When we reach a broad piazza, there's a whole band there, fronted by a gorgeous group of scantily clad dancers in mardi gras costumes.

  I turn to check Liam's expression and discover he's watching them with intense interest.

  "Big dance fan, are you?" I ask.

  He nods with a serious expression. "Their years of training and discipline are clear. They’re athletes. I respect that."

  "Also, their boobies shake when they move."

  "That, too."

  I laugh and tug on his arm. "Come on, big guy. You can buy me a drink."

  I drag him to a nearby stall where they're selling something that looks and smells a lot like Sangria.

  "Two please," Liam says as he hands over some money.

  The woman smiles at him as she takes the cash, but then she does a huge double take. She immediately starts giggling and nudges the woman beside her, who's pouring the drinks.

  "O garanhão," she whispers to her friend, who promptly spins around to stare at Liam.