Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

“Come here.” I bend down, and he captures my lips in a bruising kiss. We kiss, teeth clashing and lips swelling, pausing to suck in air as we make love with our mouths. I feel like my soul is about to leave my body as all the emotions I’ve developed spill over into our mouth mating. We shed our clothes, baring our bodies like we are our souls. I’m wet and throbbing as he lays on his backs, and I grip his base. Our eyes lock as his wet tip pierces my core. I slowly ease down.

“You’re so big,” I moan as he works deeper, inch by inch. Pressing my palms flat on his chest, I grip him with my thighs and lower myself farther.

“Let me in, sweetheart. Relax, and let me fill you up. That’s it.”

I gasp as he pushes as deep as he can get. I can feel him pulsing inside of me like a heartbeat. I flex, and he groans.

“Are you ready for more, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” I rasp.

He thrusts up, and I cry out, taking everything he has to give. We move together, finding a steady rhythm. He changes me, chasing away the darkness as he fills the empty spot inside of me with blazing light. I let go as we come together, skin slapping, bodies writhing. He hits the spot inside of me that makes me see stars. I clamp down around me.

“That’s it.”

Picking up the pace, we race toward completion. My head spins, and my body tingles as the coil inside of me snaps, and I cry out, shaking as I convulse around him. He pumps a few more times before he explodes, flooding me with his heat. I slump onto his chest, spent, complete, and already mourning his loss. Rolling us onto our side, he strokes my hair, kissing me softly. His eyes are the last thing I see as I drift off to sleep, mindful of the fact that I’m lying to myself. Giving him up won’t be simple or easy.

“I KNOW YOU’RE NOT UP for a lot of walking outside of work, but I found something you’d enjoy that we could do sitting down.”

I smile at James over the console of his car. Today’s my day off, and we’re actually venturing out into the world for a date. Lately, we’d spent the snowy days bundled up in front of a fire, but with my pregnancy nearing its end, these would be the last few times we had alone.

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because you deserve it.” He lifts my hand up and kisses it.

It’s been two weeks since the papers were dropped off at my home. We’ve poured over lawyers, calculating fees, and researching reputations. He doesn’t need to tell me it’ll destroy my nest egg. But the other choice is the last resort. My stomach sours at the thought of ending things with the man helping me mend my heart and relearn how to trust the opposite sex.

“Is this a surprise, or are you going to give me details?”

“It’s The Clay Bakers. I thought we could paint something for Flora.”

“I’d love that.” Sitting up straight, I place my hands on the small of my back and rub. It won’t be too long before I start maternity leave. Nursing could be a sport with all the steps, and heavy lifting required. Doing it off balance and carrying weight is even more difficult.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yep, just the usual back pain.”

“I’ll rub you down when we’re done.” His hands have been a magical pain reliever. Sitting on the couch while he worked the kinks out of my back and massaged my feet has become a new form of foreplay.

“You keep spoiling me like this, and I won’t let you leave the house.”

“I’d be okay with that.” His voice deepens, and I lean across the car to squeeze his thigh.

“I bet you would.”

“Don’t tease, or we won’t make it to the shop.”

“Promises.” I remove my hand, knowing he means every word. I never thought I’d enjoy sex this far along in my pregnancy. Things with Preston were never so sensual. James took his time and made sure I got mine first. I understood now what it meant to be cherished.

“It’s so cute.” The white brick building has two large display buildings and a green sign with a ceramic cup full of art tools. Brightly colored plates line the windows. I fight the urge to press my face to the glass as I climb down and walk forward. The light coral colored paint around the window is highlighted by white trim that reminds me of the beach. Black wrought iron tables and chairs sit outside.

“This would be a perfect place to sit during warm weather.”

“I’ll have to bring both of my girls back then.”

His girls. I’d always resisted any sort of claim with Preston. I wanted to make things even down the board. James didn’t wake that desire in me. It was the man, not the money, that made the difference. Owning his office, he made more than I could ever hope to, even with overtime. But there was no sense of inequality or being lorded over. Preston was my first serious relationship. There were a lot of things I hadn’t known to look out for.

We step inside and find ourselves a table. A petite redhead with freckles greets us.