Page 150 of My Favorite Holidate
A shudder runs down my body as my very possessive, very generous, very hungry, and very real boyfriend strips off my clothes, spreads my thighs, and says, “I didn’t have breakfast. I think I’ll eat you instead.”
I gasp, then I moan from the feel of his tongue, soft and determined. His mouth covers me, and he sucks and kisses, caressing me. I grab his hair, tug him closer, and rock against him.
He groans, then scoops his hands under my ass, burying his face between my thighs. It doesn’t take long at all. Soon, very soon, I’m singing “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” and I am feeling very joyful and triumphant.
But I’m also in a giving kind of mood so when I come down from my high, I sit up and then beckon him closer with my fingers. “Strip. It’s the only way to get off the naughty list.”
“I don’t want to get off the naughty list,” he says.
“Funny thing. Neither do I.”
“Good. Then sit on my dick so I can make you come again.”
“But it’s my turn to make you come,” I point out.
He shoots me a look. “Don’t make me prove you wrong.”
I smile back, my body aching for him. “Prove it.”
My man proves me so very wrong.
And everything with us feels completely right.
53
ALL MY HOLIDATES
Fable
There’s no way I’mnotruining my makeup during this wedding. Just look at my sister. She’s stunning in a tea-length white dress with silver beads on the bodice and a faux-fur bolero jacket.
A tiny tiara is perched on her blonde head and her makeup is sparkly. She holds her bouquet of green succulents from Kiss My Tulips and lets out an excited breath.
That evening, we’re standing in an anteroom in a red converted barn on the edge of the property. It’s a perfect venue for events and weddings with all this space, a view of the mountains, and plenty of heaters. We’ve dubbed this room, out of view,the bridal suite. “Are you ready?” I ask, but I know the answer.
“So ready,” she says, then smiles. “And I’m so glad you worked it out with the best man.”
I wave a hand, not wanting to steal her thunder. “It’s your wedding day.”
With her free hand, she reaches for mine, squeezes it. “And I want you to be happy too. And you are. So there.”
I give her a careful hug that’s loaded with feeling. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
“Let’s get you married.”
She nods, and as the music begins, I leave the bridal suite and enter the barn that’s a winter wonderland, bathed in the warm glow of white lights. The scent of pine wafts through the air from the nearby trees. I walk down the aisle, passing rows of friends and family, unable to tear my gaze from the best man.
Tuxes were made for Wilder Blaine, and he’s pure, powerful, handsome perfection in his black tailored tux and bow tie. His green eyes. His wry smile. His faint dusting of stubble.
When I reach the front of the barn where the justice of the peace waits, I take a stand across from Wilder and he looks me up and down in my red dress and mouths, “Beautiful.”
The wedding march begins, and all eyes shift to the bride. My sister walks down the aisle, with both of our parents giving her away. It’s a compromise, because sometimes that’s what you do with family.
I swallow down tears of joy. She’s not only having the Christmas Eve wedding of her dreams but she’s marrying the man who adores her. A man she loves madly too.
It’s everything I could have wanted for her.