TURKISH DELIGHT by Rosemary Laurey

TURKISH DELIGHT by Rosemary Laurey

Special Investigations Agency

For Special Investigations Agency Operatives Destiny Tremayne, Jenna MacDonald and Nur Aydan, Christmas isn’t all about celebrating.

Nur Aydan, a moroii—a living vampire—accepts a commission in the UK, investigating investment of terrorist funds. The supposedly routine job has Nur involved in a local protest over rights-of-way, rescuing demonstrators from attackers, using her moroii abilities to thwart terrorists…And falling in love.

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~Excerpt~

She'd sworn she'd never do this again. So much for oaths and promises. Not only had she come to meet Paul, but she was seriously considering accepting another assignment. Or was she? Nur Aydan looked down at the narrow street below. A party of tourists, like a pack of sheep, with digital cameras instead of bells around their necks, paused as their guide indicated the building opposite: a former Ottoman merchant's house. The tourists hung on every word of the patter, soaking up a mass of historical inaccuracies about life in the harem, while a few meters overhead, stood a true relic of the past - a moroii- a living vampire, blood-linked to the gypsies who roamed the reaches of the empire in the days of the sultans. A moroii employed, to her mother's constant worry, as an secret agent by The Special Investigations Agency.

Heaven help her! She was thinking like Aunt Zenip, who endlessly lamented lost glories of the Empire and times long gone. Meanwhile...Nur turned back to Paul Morel, seated on the divan in the corner. "I'm not ready for another job, Paul. Give me some time."

"This isn't a real job, Nur. All it will take is a weekend. You'll be back by Monday. It's what out English friends would call a 'doodle'."

"I think you mean a 'doddle'."

"Ah! You agree."

"How can I agree, when I have no idea what you're talking about?"

"How about an all-expenses paid holiday?"

The man was a comedian as well as a spy master. "I've earned it after that last job. How about a week or two in Antakya?"

"A weekend in England."

"At this time of year? Forget it. I'll take Iskenderun if Antakya is all booked up, but..."

"Nur! Will you listen?"

She should have expected that. Walking back to the cheap divan against the wall, she sat down. This place got shabbier each time they met, but neither of them came for the decor. She folded her arms on her chest, leaned back against the pillows, and eyeballed Paul Morel. "I'm listening."

"Brussels got a communique from our Washington Bureau. About investment of suspected terrorist funds." Ha! Paul knew that would get her attention. Nur acknowledged with a nod and he went on. "They want someone to check on things.."

"There's no one in the UK?" There was a catch. She knew it.

"No one with your strength. It's you or a bulldozer."

"You know how to pay compliments! A bulldozer!"

"Nur, I saw you stop a forklift."

A tactical mistake on her part. "Alright, so I can stop moving machinery with my bare hands. What have these terrorists been buying up? Old factories?"

"A prehistoric stone circle."

Damn good thing she was sitting down. Anyone but Paul, she'd have thought was joking, but Paul didn't have a humorous bone in his body. "You can't just buy them! They're historical monuments, national treasures." Would be like buying up the Dolmabaçe Palace or the Topkapi. "Aren't they owned by the government?"

"Most of them."

"But one just happened to be up for sale, and was bought by a suspect group?"

He nodded. "Should I send out for tea?"

"Coffee, Paul and very sweet." She didn't miss the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, as he turned to the telephone. He'd hooked her and they both knew it.

"In the name of the Special Investigations Agency, thank you," Paul said as he put down the phone.

"Just a weekend job, eh? Good! I have a dinner engagement on Monday."

He gave a flicker of a smile. "Hollrigg is a megalithic stone circle on the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors. Until a year ago it belonged to a local family. One of only two privately owned megaliths in the UK. Recently the aging owner-she was well over eighty I believe-put it up for sale, hoping a local preservation group would raise the money. A business consortium bought it, preempting the proposed arrangement, and paying about five times the asking price."

"A lot of money for a bunch of old stones."

"Very old stones."

"So they need a tax write-off. They are amateur archeologists wanting to preserve the site for posterity. They need a novel site for employee training. Doesn't mean they are terrorists."

"The company who bought it, Rudicorp, is based in Yemen, and has definite ties to terrorist funding. They do, admittedly, have some legitimate business operations, and maybe, just maybe they bought it in the interests of preserving western culture," Paul paused, "but unlikely. and in the present climate, we investigate everything."

"What am I supposed to do? Pick up the stones up one by one and check for bombs underneath?"

"If you deem it necessary."

"Very funny, Paul. What am I really supposed to do?"

"Find out what the hell is going on. Lurk around the site, and use your superior hearing and sight to ascertain whatever you can."

"Why me? You've got other agents with special abilities."

"They are all occupied. We've been particularly busy the past year or so."

"So, you're scraping the bottom of the barrel and calling on me."

"Don't talk rot! You're one of our best. I know you need a break after the last job, but this is more investigation than action. You're going to look around, that's all." She bet!

At a knock on the door, Paul crossed the room. The teenager from the cafe downstairs entered, placed two small cups were on the table in front of Nur, and left with a generous tip. Paul handed her a cup. She caught the rich, heady aroma, sniffing appreciatively before tasting. Wonderful! Sweet, hot and thick, she might as well enjoy, she'd not get coffee like this in England.

Paul placed an envelope on the table. "Tickets, driving license, car rental reservation, credit cards, a little traveling money, and the passport you'll use."

He'd been that sure she'd agree, had he? Nur scowled and took another sip before setting her cup down and reaching for the envelope. "Yildiz Geçtan? School teacher? Give me a break, Paul!"

"It's a good cover. People expect teachers to poke around, ask questions and look at everything."

"And why am I wandering around the UK in December when I have a students to teach back here in Turkey?"

"You have a three month sabbatical, to travel in the UK and improve your English." She had to smile at that. Her English was better than Paul's. "You teach at the Dursan Academy in Istanbul. They will back up your story if needed."

How Paul did these things, she didn't want to know. She flicked open the ticket. Okay, teachers went tourist class, but... "Tomorrow morning!"

"An early flight. Stay tonight at the airport Radisson, in your traveling name. Your flight leaves at seven."

"What about minor details, like a tooth brush?"

He nodded towards the end of the divan. "There's a toothbrush in the bag, Nur, and your essentials. You'll have the usual supplies waiting for you at the hotel. If you need anything else, use the credit card in the envelope, and be sure to save all the receipts for accounting."

"I leave in the morning? Drat! I had an appointment for a manicure tomorrow morning."

"Reschedule for when you get back."

Paul really did have no sense of humor.

It started off, like the nice easy break Paul promised: a room service dinner at the Airport Radisson while Nur looked over Paul's notes before burning them in the bathroom wash basin and flushing the ashes. Not that they told her much. Paul seemed to think leaving her to find out for herself was the way to go. Which probably meant there was nothing going on and she was off on a routine mission-not that she'd ever had one of those, and half-doubted she'd recognize one if she tripped over it in broad daylight. But she gave up worrying, enjoyed the grilled shrimp and fish she'd ordered, and indulged her favorite desert: rosewater ice cream. She should go out and hunt, but lacked the energy. Tomorrow she'd find some willing Brit and feast.

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WHO GETS THE FRIENDS? by Tim Smith

WHO GETS THE FRIENDS? by Tim Smith

Two lonely souls get a chance to make their Christmas wish come true.

When Tom Harris won back his freedom after a bitter divorce, he looked forward to getting a fresh start in life. What he didn’t realize was that his former wife had taken their mutual friends as part of the settlement.

He feared that he’d be alone forever until he met Jessica Mays, who was recovering from the loss of her one true love.

Can these two broken souls find some common ground to make a relationship work? Will Tom discover that there really is life after divorce?

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~Excerpt~

Tom entered Boston Stoker a little before 3:30 the following afternoon and looked around. Jessica wasn’t there yet so he eased himself into a booth to wait for her. I didn’t think to get her phone number last night. I hope she shows.

A few minutes later the door opened and Jessica stepped in. She spied Tom and approached. He stood and smiled, looking her over. She had on a pair of cream-colored slacks and a lime green shirt with the hospital logo embroidered on the left side. She surprised Tom by giving him a hug before she sat.

Tom resumed his seat. “How was work?”

Jessica groaned and rolled her eyes. “Not worth talking about. I had to work the geriatric ward today and those old folks were cranky.”

A server came by to take their orders. When she departed, Jessica continued. “What have you been doing today?”

“Not much. I found an old movie on TV I hadn’t seen in a long time.”

“Which one?”

“The Big Sleep. Ever seen that one?”

“Is that the one with Bogart and Bacall?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Surprised you weren’t watching football.”

“I’d rather watch a movie. I’m not a real big sports fan.”

Their coffee and biscotti arrived. Jessica took a sip, then picked up one of the biscuits.

“I don’t meet many men who aren’t into sports.”

Tom took a drink. “Disappointed?”

“No, not really. I’m not much into it, either, except for NASCAR.”

Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting. What about NASCAR fascinates you?”

“The skill of the drivers. What really hooked me was the first time they flashed a close-up of Dale Earnhardt.”

Tom laughed. “Is that the type you go for, the bad boy?”

She giggled. “Not necessarily.” She sipped her coffee. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What type do you go for?”

“You’ve got me stumped. I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Then let’s make it easy. How do you feel about busty bleached blondes?”

“I could take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

Her eyebrows arched. “That’s a first. What about tall women who could look you in the eye?”

“As long as they aren’t looking into my soul, they’re okay.”

“You’re turning into more of a puzzle than I figured.” She paused. “What about redheads?”

Tom grinned. “At the risk of getting slapped, I’ve always heard that red hair is indicative of intense passion. Is that true?”

A teasing smile played across her lips. “Maybe.”

“You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?”

She patted his hand on the table. “Down, boy.”

Tom sipped his coffee. I’m thoroughly enjoying her company. She’s so easy to talk with. “What made you decide to go into nursing?”

“I helped take care of my grandmother before she died and when I saw how the nurses took such good care of her, I decided it was what I wanted to do.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Why did you choose the finance industry?”

“I’ve always been good at math and thought a business degree would ensure me a solid career. Nothing glamorous about it.”

“At least you’re honest. A lot of people wouldn’t admit that they only got into something for the money.” She took a drink. “So what’s the story behind your newfound bachelorhood?”

Tom looked at her for a moment. “Do you really want to talk about that?”

“Mm-hmm. I’d just like to know what pitfalls to watch out for.”

He laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you the Cliffnotes version. Things were going okay until one day I did the unthinkable.”

Jessica held up her hand. “Don’t tell me—you forgot your wedding anniversary or your ex-wife’s birthday.”

“Close. I remembered her birthday, I just forgot to take out a second mortgage to get the gift she expected.”

“You said expected.”

“That’s right. Why?”

“You didn’t say wanted. That tells a lot about a person’s character.”


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PERFECT HOMECOMING by Sandra Sookoo

PERFECT HOMECOMING by Sandra Sookoo

Sometimes the future meets us when we’re not looking.

Andrew Grabel is a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air and Space Force. It's tradition for his family, so is never being home for Christmas. Though he longs to celebrate the holiday with all its feel good nostalgia, the reality of space travel doesn't make that possible. Neither does an R and R stint on a far-flung space station since Christmas is unique to Earthlings.

Mira Nisirian is on Epsilon station for one reason only—to steal anything of value then get out for her next destination. She's a thief and a criminal, and though she might dream of fitting in with Earth people and their culture, nothing can erase her Neptune origins or her real alien form. Choosing Andrew as her first victim is her first mistake...

...falling for him is the next. What's more, Andrew's constant talk of Christmas fascinates Mira. She covets the home she sees in his eyes. Andrew's future outlook is shaken as he finds himself trying to convince her the Earth holiday is a state of mind, but Mira's compulsion to share her truth might damage their budding relationship.

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Excerpt:

“Excuse me, ma’am, but I believe you neglected to pay for the items you took from the buffet.” He grabbed her wrist, his fingers easily encircling her arm.

Moss-green eyes flashed under a veil of midnight lashes. “Well then, you must have missed the pockets I picked along the way because I’m a much better thief than that.”

Shocked she didn’t attempt to deny the charges, he pulled her behind the display boards. No sense in calling attention to themselves. Even a criminal deserved a bit of privacy. It was Christmas, after all, and he should show some goodwill. “I don’t think you understand. I have no patience for criminals.”
He held up her hand. The loose-flowing sleeve fell to her elbow and revealed the tracking bracelet.
“Are you out on parole, or did you escape from a prison colony?”

A wash of faint pink color stained her pale cheeks as she attempted to wrench from his grasp. He tightened his hold. Her lips parted, the lower one slightly fuller. “Neither. Let’s just say I bartered my way out and leave it at that. Everyone involved has been properly compensated.” A hint of an indefinable accent flowed through her speech. Andrew stared at the bracelet. None of the tiny lights were illuminated, and scratches marred the surface as if she’d tried to pry it from her wrist. “You disabled it.”

“Surprised?” She neither confirmed nor denied his statement.

“No.”

“You should be. Not everyone can do that without the proper tools at her disposal.” Again, she tried to get away. Andrew didn’t budge. She lifted an eyebrow. “However, my problem is removing the damn thing. It’s apparently beyond my limited skills…unless you’d like to help me with that tiny little problem, handsome?” The blatant invitation in her voice competed with the high wattage of her smile.

“Absolutely not.” He held her gaze, fascinated by the play of shadows in her spectacular eyes. A lifetime of secrets resided there. His curious nature surged to the forefront. Would she give them up if he kissed her? Shaking his head in an attempt to banish the absurd thought, he said, “Your next stop is prison.” He had zero time to try and fix her problems when he couldn’t manage his own.

“Actually, my next stop is an outbound freighter that leaves tomorrow morning.” One of her feathery, arched eyebrows rose. “Release me. I have business at the other end of the station.” A tug accompanied the request, as did a glint in her eyes.

“I’ll bet you do.” Andrew didn’t know if he was more disappointed that she might be a prostitute or that his interest in her hadn’t waned following the thought. “I’ll bet trouble follows you around.” He didn’t want to get involved, did he?

“It might.” She cocked her head. “Does it matter?”

“I’m not sure, but here’s how I see it.” He pulled her against him and slid his free hand along her spine to her waist. Her silky hair brushed his skin and sent electric impulses up his arm. The warmth of her body seeped into his hands while her scent invaded his nostrils and scrambled his brain. She smelled faintly of vanilla, pears, and the subtle sweetness only a woman had. His stomach rumbled as his cock hardened.

She tipped her head backward, still holding his gaze. “I’m waiting.” Her lips parted with a sly smile and revealed even, white teeth. “Do you have a different proposition for me?”

Damn. The woman’s a dangerous mix of sex and sin. She’ll be trouble. Did that mean he wanted to take her on during his layover? His heartbeat accelerated.

Why not? It’d be good to have a new challenge.

“Since it’s Christmas, I’m willing to overlook your crime if you promise you won’t rob anyone else while you’re on the station.” His heartbeat thundered in his ears. As though compelled, he pressed her softness against the harder planes of his body. “Is it a deal?” Andrew released the wrist he held hostage in favor of sliding his hands to her ass and pulling her even closer. She stood as tall as his shoulder, just the right height to tuck under his chin or wrap in his arms.

Surprise and something darker flickered in her eyes. “That depends on what you’re offering as an incentive.” She snaked a hand around his waist. The other slid up his chest to fiddle with the zipper pull of his flight suit. “Any ideas, because I can suggest a few.”

“No.” He swallowed but couldn’t force moisture into his dry throat. Every second he held her brought him near an edge he wasn’t sure he wanted to jump off. She obviously ran with a crowd opposite his, and she skirted the law with the ease of familiarity. He couldn’t align himself with such a person. That wasn’t who he was, yet the temptation of holiday companionship wouldn’t be denied.

“Let me help you out, handsome.” She tugged away, and with an expression of triumph held his slim, brown wallet in her right hand. A silver bracelet encircled that wrist, this one etched with markings and symbols he couldn’t read and was different than the prison cuff. “You take me to the bar, and I’ll return your wallet.” She waggled the bit of leather out of his reach. “I’ll even let you buy the drinks since you look like a traditional sort of guy.”

“And if I don’t?” Annoyed that she’d gotten close only to pick his pocket, Andrew took a step backward. He rubbed a hand over his hair. His gut churned with either excitement or unease; he couldn’t tell which.

Her shrug pulled the tunic tight over her breasts. “Your loss, but my guess is it’ll be difficult trying to pilot your ship without the proper identification or clearance tags, not to mention the paper money I’ll bet you have.” She shook the wallet. “All converted into intergalactic denominations, right?”

“Of course.” How else did she think commerce happened so far removed from Earth’s society? He lunged. She gave him a throaty laugh and retreated another step.

“Nice. Earthlings are always loaded, and they flaunt it.”

“You should know. Aren’t you from there?” The woman seemed as human as he did.

A shadow flickered across her face. She rubbed his wallet against her cheek. “Spend a couple of hours with me. I’m told I’m actually a pleasant person once you get to know me. How bad do you want it?”

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SILVER BELLA by Lucy Monroe

SILVER BELLA by Lucy Monroe

She is the only thing he wants to unwrap.

Bella Jackson models clothes only the most sexually confident woman would dare to wear. But there’s a secret hiding behind the bad-girl reputation and barely there couture. Under the covers, she’s a total novice.

At least it was a secret. Not anymore, thanks to an ex’s blabbing. Now she’s been branded with a potentially career-ending label: Ice Queen.

Only years of practice keep the nerves at bay, and her signature walk rock steady—until a tall, sexy Texan’s gaze fixes like a laser beam on her scantily clad body. And her stiletto heels miss a step.

From the moment Jake Barton locks eyes with the smoking-hot woman on the catwalk, he knows it’s only a matter of time. He never expected the heat between them to melt away her aloof façade before they’ve even touched, revealing the vulnerable woman underneath.

Suddenly he realizes he wants more than a roll in the hay. Now to convince her to take a chance on Texas—and him—before their fragile relationship is bulldozed by tabloid lies and innuendo.

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Copyright © 2012 Lucy Monroe
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Sexless mannequin.

The words reverberated through Bella Jackson’s head as she stepped out onto the catwalk.

“A man could get frostbite touching you. You’re all smoke and no fire, babe. If the world knew what a total fraud you are, you’d never get another modeling job again. Who wants the original ice queen modeling clothes for today’s sensual woman?”

Curt’s vitriolic accusations echoed around her, drowning out the announcer’s modulated voice, even though the confrontation had taken place miles away and days ago.

She couldn’t forget.

Maybe because Curt had taken his story to the press, and her face and body were plastered all over the tabloids with headlines that made her cringe.

Bella Jackson, Ice Queen or Sexpot?

Model Freezes Boyfriend Out of Bed.

Lexi’s Creations Cover Model Fraud.

Ex-boyfriend Says This Model’s Bed Needs an Electric Blanket to Stay Warm.

And the one that had given her mother heart palpitations: Ex-boyfriend Speculates Bella is Gay.

She’d done hundreds of trunk shows in her ten-year modeling career, but never had she been so nervous stepping onto a stage.

Had everyone in the audience seen the stories? Were they laughing behind their hands as she modeled clothes that only a woman extremely in touch with her own sexuality would wear?

That woman was not Bella.

She didn’t have hang-ups, no matter what that jerk Curt said. It was just that she’d been so career minded since her teens the whole man-woman thing had pretty much passed her by. Not to mention the fact that she wasn’t interested in getting intimate with a man who couldn’t see beyond her body to the woman inside.

She’d had her bad experiences with idiots who thought her bra size was equivalent to her IQ, and men who wanted a trophy on their arm, not a living, breathing woman in their life, so she’d pretty much stopped dating. Until Curt.

When he’d pressed for sex, she’d been unable to share her secret—or her body—with him.

The truth was, she hadn’t wanted to.

His kisses and what he’d wanted to do afterward had left her as cold as he’d accused her of being.
She was a twenty-six-year-old virgin with a reputation for extravagant sex and a supposed list of lovers the length of the Miami Yellow Pages. It wasn’t her fault that the press speculated, or that men who hadn’t made it to first base had bragged about their homeruns, but neither had she denied the rumors. Lexi said her reputation was good for the line and Bella had considered it another cost of her career.

Her bad-girl reputation had done its own job keeping her insulated from the type of men she could actually want. The men attracted to the persona she presented to the world were very rarely the type of men she could be honestly attracted to.

Curt had been different, or so she’d thought.

She’d found out too late that the conservative accountant had only wanted the bad girl, not the real Bella. He’d wanted to take a walk on the wild side with her as his tour guide.

The last daywear model was returning up the catwalk when the announcer introduced Lexi’s eveningwear and Bella began her signature glide down the Plexiglas stage, her hands damp and her heart beating too fast.

Subdued lighting made it possible for her to make eye contact with the audience, but that was the last thing she wanted. Still, she couldn’t help subtly scanning the patrons seated in the ultraclassy Dallas hotel, looking for signs that the tabloid stories had done their damage.

But this audience seemed just like all the others, their gazes fixed on her shocking white silk dress.

She was halfway down the catwalk when her gaze snagged on a pair of green eyes. The color of new grass, they were set in a face as hard as granite and as sexy as sin.

The look in those eyes caught her as effectively as if the man’s hands had closed over her shoulders and halted her midstep. She did in fact stop, her body freezing with a blast of sensations totally alien to her. Sensations that belied every one of the nasty headlines.

Her pause lasted only a second, but she felt the first blush she’d had in years crawling hotly up her skin.

The man’s thin lips quirked in a knowing smile.

Obviously aware that he was the cause of her hesitation, his expression reflected a mixture of mocking humor and blatant male approval.

She’d spent years learning to ignore the masculine admiration her body elicited. For her, the perfectly proportioned curves were a tool of her trade, nothing more, but this man’s look went zinging to the very heart of her.

Frissons of awareness skittered along her nerve endings, leaving goose bumps of sensation in unlikely places.

She stopped at the end of the stage, which happened to be right in front of his table, while two other models wearing eveningwear came down the catwalk to flank her.

His eyes flared with pleasure as she stood in a mannequin-still pose before him and his dark-blond head tilted slightly, as if he was adjusting his angle to look at her better.

An electric current vibrated across the space between them, inexorably connecting her with the mysterious green-eyed stranger. Unbelievably, her nipples grew hard and her breasts felt tight, while her thighs trembled with the effort it took to maintain her pose.

She’d never reacted this way during a show. Not ever.

Only years of practice and discipline made it possible for her to move through her choreographed routine with the other two models. However, no matter which direction she turned, she felt that amazing connection.

It was scary.

Relief mixed with disappointment when the announcer cued her to return up the catwalk. She walked away from the green-eyed man, supremely aware of the almost nonexistent nature of the back of her gown.

It dipped to a V that ended right above her bottom, the white silk semitransparent. She wore minimal undergarments and if he was looking closely enough, he would see the shadow of her cheeks and the outline of her legs beneath the fabric. Shards of excitement speared her inner thighs at the thought.

For the first time in her modeling career, she felt exposed, as if her body was more than a living mannequin used to show off a designer’s creations.

That the dress was in fact showing her off.

She could not help wondering what he thought of an outfit that left so little of her body’s secrets to the imagination.

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MAKING CHRISTMAS by Lizzie T Leaf

MAKING CHRISTMAS by Lizzie T Leaf

Wounded in a skirmish, Callie Marsh’s disguise as a Confederate soldier is discovered by the doctor who treats her. Working with him in the hospital she learns no matter what color uniform a soldier wears, they all miss family during the holidays. And that an enemy doctor can be the man of her dreams.

Dr. Tom Kent knows the safest place for the woman is working by his side. Their constant interaction has him wanting more than is smart, considering their division of philosophy. His determination to keep her safe is hindered by Major Henry Ash’s decision that the young prisoner would make an excellent aide. And close exposure to the commander could put her in danger of discovery.

Will Callie be able to set aside her dislike of Yankees to make Christmas for the enemy and especially for the man she’s come to love?

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~Excerpt~

“Cal, why don’t I check the bandage on your shoulder while things are quiet?” Tom closed the tent flap behind him when he entered. “How does it feel?”

“Not much pain, just a little tender.” Callie unbuttoned the shirt Tom had given her and dropped one shoulder down to give him access to the bandage. He worked quickly, removing the old one and replacing it with a smaller piece of muslin which he secured by tying another strip around it.

“The looseness of the shirt hides your breasts for now, but I think when we have more time available, we’d better bind them again.”

Callie didn’t miss the doctor’s attempt not to glance lower.

No way would she add to what seemed a constant state of embarrassment by letting him bind her breasts. She’d done it before and she could take care of it now. “I can do it if you just give a piece of cloth.” His gaze feasting on her nude chest was the last thing she needed.

“I’ll give you time alone this evening, then. It may be difficult to accomplish by yourself with the shoulder, but if you want to give it a try that’s fine with me.” Tom hastily gathered the remaining bandages and put them back in the trunk where he kept such supplies.

“What’s going to happen to me now that I’m on the mend?”

His back tensed before Tom slowly turned to face her. “I’ve thought about that and think it’s best if you remain with me. Given the circumstances, putting you in with the other prisoners isn’t a good idea. Besides, given what the men perceive as your circumstances, it would probably create discomfort for the rest of troops.”

“What circumstances?”

This time, Tom flushed. “They are under the impression that you have lost your man parts.”

“I what?” Then it dawned on her…”Oh.”

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INHERITING HIS SECRET CHRISTMAS BABY by Heidi Betts

INHERITING HIS SECRET CHRISTMAS BABY by Heidi Betts

(Dynasties: The Jarrods - Book 6)

Holiday husband...and father?

This wasn't the type of Christmas present he'd been expecting. Trevor Jarrod - a daddy? Yet the enticing woman seated in his office claimed the Aspen businessman was the father of her baby nephew. Quick as he could say paternity test, Trevor discovered she was telling the truth. But just what did this revelation mean? The confirmed bachelor knew nothing about being a parent. And Haylie Smith wasn't about to hand off the precious infant to a complete stranger.

If Trevor really wanted to claim his unexpected heir, he had an important choice - head to court...or head to the altar!

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Excerpt

“Any messages?” Trevor Jarrod asked his assistant, running his fingers through his dark hair to brush away any excess moisture.

Getting to her feet, she handed him a stack of pink papers. More than he was in the mood to deal with at the moment.

“Before you go into your office . . .” she began, only to let her words drift off, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth as she worried it nervously.

“Yes?”

She took a breath and met his gaze. “There’s a young woman waiting for you. She’s been calling, and insisted on seeing you in person. I started to turn her away, but didn’t have the heart, and . . . well, I just thought she was someone you should deal with personally.”

He frowned. Diana might be pixie-petite, but he’d seen her in protective, full linebacker mode. The woman in his office must indeed be brave to have gotten past her. Brave, or very convincing.

“Who is she?” he asked.

Diana shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her yourself. She didn’t say, she was just . . . very determined.”

With a sigh, Trevor folded the stack of messages and stuffed them in his pants pocket. “Fine. I’ll take care of it.”

Pulling open both of the heavy oak doors that separated his office from the reception area, he paused to take in the sweep of his office. The thick Gulistan carpeting. The unlit fireplace built of smooth river stones lining the back wall. And in the center of the room, his heavy, ornately carved desk with its lamp at one corner, computer monitor at the other, and stacks of paper at the center.

But no woman in either of the guest chairs waiting to see him.

Closing the doors behind him with a click, he stepped farther inside. As the sound echoed through the room, his espresso-dark leather desk chair tipped slightly before swiveling around to reveal a lovely woman with honey-blonde hair and blue eyes. On her lap, leaning back against her chest, was an infant busily chewing on his own hand.

Trevor frowned. Well. The woman was no surprise; Diana had warned him one was waiting to see him. His so-called assistant had failed to mention, however, that said woman had a child with her.

What kind of woman came to a business meeting with a baby in tow? he wondered. Even an impromptu meeting that—judging by the way this one was starting—might not last long.

“My secretary said you needed to speak with me,” he said, rounding the desk with every intention of taking her place and relegating her to one of the guest chairs.

If he’d expected her to hop up and bashfully bustle around to the other side of the desk, though, he was doomed to disappointment. She held her ground, remaining seated in his executive chair—the one he had special ordered and waited nearly a month for it arrive, the one that had taken another month to break in and now cushioned his body like a glove during each of the many long hours he put in here at Jarrod Manor—while she bounced the child up and down on her knees.

“I’m Trevor Jarrod,” he offered when she didn’t seem eager to fill the chilly silence.

“I know who you are. I’ve been trying to reach you for the past two months.”

Her tone was flat with a trace of annoyance threading through, but also light and extremely feminine. Lifting a hand, she swept a chunk of her straight blond hair behind one ear, revealing a single ruby red stud that matched the knit vee-neck sweater she was wearing with a pair of sleek black slacks.

The baby on her lap was dressed in a pair of blue denim overalls with an embroidered train engine on the front pocket and a shirt underneath with dozens more trains covering the white cotton. A boy, Trevor assumed, otherwise he would be looking at a little denim jumper covered in pink butterflies or some such.

As though he sensed Trevor’s perusal, the baby gave a smiling gurgle and kicked his legs out in front of him.

Dragging his attention back to the woman who’d fought so hard to gain an audience with him, but suddenly seemed at a loss for words, Trevor crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a brow. “And you are?”

That brought her to her feet, shifting the child in her arms until he was perched on one hip.

How did women do that? Were they born knowing how to hold babies, change diapers, and distinguish between eighteen different types of cries?

Of the six Jarrod children, Melissa was his only younger sibling. Which meant he didn’t have a lot of experience with babies. Even being this close to one, with his mother right there, ready, willing, and able to react to his every need, made Trevor more than a bit uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat to cover the fact that he’d nearly taken a step back, away from the woman and her child, he waited. She still owed him a name and an explanation for her presence, and he had work to do.

“My name is Haylie Smith.”

He blinked, waiting for her to elaborate. Instead, after several a long seconds ticked by, she tipped her head and let her eyes go wide, as though she’d just delivered a punch line, but he didn’t get the joke.

“Haylie Smith,” she said again, more firmly this time, careful to enunciate each syllable.

“I heard you,” he murmured, fighting the twitch at the corner of his lips as they threatened to lift in an amused grin.

It wasn’t often that he was treated like the slow kid in school. Very few would dare. Because while he was known to be fairly laid back and fun-loving, even flirty at times when it came to women, he was also a Jarrod. One of the heirs to Donald Jarrod’s vast fortune, and a successful entrepreneur in his own right.

He was rich, and he was powerful. And while it might take a lot to shake him from his easy-going nature, he wasn’t a man other men wanted to risk pissing off.

That this stranger—a woman, no less—seemed to have no compunction about going nose to nose with him was more arousing than it should have been.

Not that she wasn’t an attractive woman. At what he estimated to be about five feet four or five inches to his six-two, she was tall, but not too tall. She was also far from reed-thin, but nowhere near fat, either. She had curves in all the right places, pressing against the front of her sweater and filling out the hips of her slacks. The kind of figure that would feel soft and warm against his hard chest and firm thighs.

Her long, straight hair was like bottled sunshine and framed a heart-shaped face that was a fascinating mix of innocence and sensuality. The rosy bow of her mouth, the sharp, crystal blue of her eyes, the way she held that baby with both confidence and possessiveness . . .

None of it should be turning him on, since he was about three seconds away from booting her out of his office, but damned if he wasn’t starting to feel a tell-tale warmth in his blood and tightening in his gut.

Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—she didn’t seem to be suffering the same physiological response to him.

“I’ve been calling you for the past two months,” she charged impatiently. “Leaving messages that you apparently couldn’t be bothered to return.”

With a nod, he moved around her and took his rightful place behind his desk. “My secretary mentioned that. Although I can’t understand what’s so pressing if you weren’t willing to leave details about why you wanted to speak with me.”

Just as he’d intended, his near-dismissal of her caused her to move back around to the front of his desk. She didn’t sit, though, instead standing directly in front of him while she bounced her hip and wove back and forth in a calm, gentle motion he assumed was for the baby’s benefit.

“Some things are better said in person. And I didn’t think you would appreciate your secretary being privy to your personal business.”
At that, his brows drew together and he dragged his attention from the folder on the desk in front of him to her glittering gaze.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen or heard of you before. What kind of personal business could you possibly have with me?” he nearly scoffed, wondering if this woman might be slightly unhinged. Maybe she’d convinced herself she was yet another long lost Jarrod heir. Or maybe she’d seen one too many photographs of him in the local and national tabloids, and had convinced herself that she was one of his many feminine conquests.

He was debating the wisdom of getting up to open the double doors again, and possibly even buzzing for hotel security, when she switched the baby from one hip to the other and began to round his desk again—in the opposite direction this time—with slow, determined steps.

“You’re right, you don’t know me. We’ve never met. But a year ago, you met my sister, and from what I’ve heard, the two of you had a heck of a good time.”

She stopped in front of him, towering over him in a manner he definitely didn’t appreciate. He sat back, prepared to launch to his feet and stare her down, if necessary, but her next words glued him in place.

“And maybe if you returned a phone call once in a while, it wouldn’t have taken me two months to track you down and introduce you to your son.”

With that, she plopped the baby unceremoniously on his lap before leaning back to cross her arms beneath her breasts and look down at him with what could only be described as a satisfied smirk.

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MISTLETOE AND PALM TREES by Tim Smith

MISTLETOE AND PALM TREES by Tim Smith

Christmas in Key Largo, Florida...palm trees, bright blue waters, tropical temperatures and two people feeling the sting of a bad break-up. When Tom McCoy fled there to forget his latest romantic debacle, the last person he expected to meet was beautiful Brooke Devlin, who is trying to heal from a mishap of her own. Their mutual attraction is strong, but is it real or just rebound? Will their holiday affair last beyond checkout time, or become the stuff Spring breaks are made of?

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Excerpt:

They continued eating in silence for a few minutes. Tom tried to not let his eyes wander over her upper chest but it was difficult to resist, since Brooke had left the top three buttons on her top undone. He felt the almost unwelcome arousal beginning again and had to force his mind in a different direction. The evening’s young and we’re just getting to know each other. Don’t get any premature ideas.

“I had the strangest feeling today,” Brooke began, “going sightseeing by myself. This is the first time I’ve ever taken a long vacation alone.”

Tom thought of his own feelings since he arrived the day before. “Kind of an empty feeling, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It was almost like it didn’t feel right, discovering new things and not having anyone to share it with. Kinda strange.”

“Why didn’t you bring a friend with you?”

“All of them had plans or were getting ready for the holidays.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it was pretty gutsy of you to come by yourself. Shows a lot of character strength.”

Brooke glanced down and smiled shyly. “Thank you. Does it feel strange for you, being here alone?”

“Yeah, it does. I haven’t taken a long trip by myself in years and I’ve been feeling the same things.”

Her eyes took on a sultry look accompanied by a small smile. “So what’s a lonely girl to do with herself for a whole week in a tropical paradise?”

“Find an equally lonely guy to bum around with.”

“Where would I find such a guy?”

“They’re all over the place.”

“Maybe I should run an ad.” She placed her hand on his on top of the table. “Unless you’d like to apply for the job.”

“I’d be happy to provide references.”

She gave him a playful look, one that made her green eyes twinkle. “What are your qualifications?’

“Let’s see: I’m here, I have no plans, and I find you very attractive.”

“What’s your availability?”

“At your service, twenty-four-seven.”

Her look turned sly. “Does that include nights?”

“Of course.”

She laughed. “You’re hired. How soon can you start?”

He squeezed her hand. “I just gave notice on my last job.”

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YULE BE MINE by Lori Foster

Sparkling days, crackling fires, long steamy nights... Christmas is all about making memories. In four delicious tales of seduction and romance, New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster brings you all the pleasures of the season, and then some.

Booker Dean knows exactly what he wants for Christmas: his next-door neighbor, Frances Kennedy. And he's got a gift planned for her that involves lots of delicious unwrapping.

Officer Parker Ross hates Christmas, while Lily Donaldson lives for it. But he's willing to be converted, especially when Lily is the one doing the persuading.

Sergeant Osbourne Decker suspects pet psychic Marci Churchill is barking mad, but she's also a knockout. And when she's accused of stealing a donkey from the local nativity scene, he can't stop thinking about frisking her.

Furious at her cheating fiancé, Beth Monroe decides to enjoy a payback tryst with his gorgeous best friend, and finds that revenge is best served hot and sweet.

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Excerpt From A CHRISTMAS PRESENT

Why oh why couldn’t this be a normal storm? Instead of soft, pretty snowflakes dotting her windshield, wet snow clumps froze as soon as they hit, rending the wipers inadequate to keep the windshield clear. Even with the defroster on high, blasting hot air that threatened to choke her, the snow accumulated.

Refusing to stop and refusing to acknowledge the headlights behind her, Beth Monroe kept her hands tight on the wheel. Let him freeze to death. Let him follow her all the way to Gillespe, Kentucky.

She’d still ignore him.

She’d ignore everything that had happened between them, and everything she felt, everything he’d made her feel.

Oh God, she was so embarrassed. If only she could have a do-over, an opportunity to change the past, to correct mistakes and undo bad plans. That’d be the most perfect Christmas present ever.

A simple do-over.

But of course, there was no such thing, not even with the magic of Christmas. And there was nothing simple about the current mess of her life, or the complicated way that Levi Masterson made her feel.

Finally, after hours that seemed an eternity, her stepbrother’s hotel came into view. Beth breathed a sigh of relief. Now if she could just park and get inside before Levi shanghaied her. Ben knew of her imminent arrival. She could count on him to send Levi packing.

Not that she wanted Levi hurt... or Ben for that matter.

Fool, fool, fool.

Tires sliding on the frozen parking lot, Beth maneuvered her Ford into an empty spot. After shutting off the engine, she grabbed up her purse, a tote bag loaded with presents, and her overnight bag. Arms laden, she charged from the vehicle.

Three steps in, her feet slipped out from under her. The stuffed overnight bag threw her off balance and she went flying in the air to land flat on her back. Her bag spilled. Wind rushed from her lungs. Icy cold seeped in to her spine and tush.

For only a moment, Beth lay there, aching from head to toe, stunned and bemused. Then she heard Levi’s hasty approach.

“Beth, damn it –”

Determination got her back on her feet. She gathered her belongings with haste and then, slipping and sliding, wincing with each step, she shouted into the wind, “Go away, Levi.”

Harsh with determination, he yelled back, “You know I won’t.”

Daring a quick glance over her shoulder, Beth saw him ten feet behind her. He hadn’t even parked! His truck sat crossways in the middle of the lot to block hers in, idling, the exhaust sending plumes of heated air to mingle in the frozen wind.

Good God, he looked furious!

Beth lunged forward and reached the door of the diner attached to Ben’s hotel. She yanked it open and sped into the warm interior. The tote bag of presents fell out of her hands, scattering small gifts across the floor. Her overnight bag dropped from her numb fingers.

Several people looked up – all of them family.

Oh hell.

Why couldn’t there have been crowds of non-filial faces? An unbiased crowd, that’s what she sought. Instead she found Noah and Ben have in close conversation at a table. Their wives, Grace and Sierra, sat at a booth wrapping gifts. And her father and stepmother paused in their efforts to festoon a large fir tree situated in the corner.

Upon seeing her, her father’s face lit up. He started to greet her – and then Levi shoved through the door, radiating fury, crowding in behind Beth so that she jolted forward with a startled yelp to keep from touching him.

In a voice deep and resolute, vibrating with command, he ordered, “Not another step, Beth. I mean it.”

She winced, and peeked open one eye to view her audience.

Not good.

Levi obviously had no idea of the challenge he’d just issued, or the uproar he’d cause by using that tone with her in front of her family.

And now it was too late.

She hadn’t wanted this. She wanted only time to think, to hide from her mortifying and aberrant behavior, to... She didn’t know what she wanted, damn it, and it wasn’t fair that Levi refused to give her a chance to figure it out.

Muttering to herself, she dropped to her knees to gather the now damp and disheveled gifts one more time. As she did so, she said, “Hello Dad. Hello... everyone else.” She tried to sound jovial rather than frustrated and anxious and at the end of her rope.

She failed miserably.

With a protectiveness that still amazed Beth, her stepbrothers moved as one. Noah’s expression didn’t bode well, and Ben appeared equally ready to declare war. Even her calm, reasonable father stalked forward with blood in his eyes.

Plopping her belongings on a nearby booth, Beth held up both hands. “Wait!”

No one did. From one second to the next, Levi had her behind him... as if to protect her? From her family?

Unfortunately, even that simple touch from him, in no way affectionate or seductive, had Beth’s tummy fluttering and her skin warming.

She quickly shrugged off her coat.

Levi took it from her, then asked, “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

“No. You can leave with a clear conscience. I’m fine.” She reached for her coat.

He held it out of her reach. “I’m not going anywhere, so you can quit trying to get rid of me.”

The men drew up short. Her father barked, “Who the hell are you?”

Levi turned to face their audience. Positive that she didn’t want him to answer that himself, Beth yelled from behind him, “He’s a friend.” And she tried to ease backward away from him.

“A whole lot more than a friend,” Levi corrected, and he stepped back to close the distance she’d just gained.

“Where’s her fiancé,” Noah asked.

“Busy,” Beth said.

“Gone,” Levi answered in a bark. He reached back and caught Beth’s wrist. His thumb moved over her skin, a gentle contrast to the iron in his tone. “For good.”

Confused, Ben asked, “You mean dead?”

“Far as Beth is concerned, yes.”

Oh for crying out loud. Knowing she couldn’t let this continue, Beth yanked her wrist free and, without quite touching any part of Levi’s big, hard body, went on tiptoe to see beyond him.
The masculine expressions facing her didn’t bode well.

She summoned a smile that felt sickly. “Hello Dad. Brandon is fine, but we’re not engaged any more.”

Kent Monroe brought his brows down. “Since when?”

“Since she’s with me now instead,” Levi told them.

“No,” Beth corrected sweetly, “I’m not.”

Levi half turned to face her. “Wanna bet?”

His challenge got everyone moving again.

Oh God, she had to do something. “Dad,” Beth begged, “I don’t want him hurt.”

Her father stopped in his tracks. Noah and Ben did not.

But her lovely sisters-in-law took control.

“Noah,” Grace called from across the room. “You heard her.”

Frowning, Noah paused about three feet from Levi. “I also heard him.”

Sierra, a little more outgoing than Grace, raced up to Ben’s side and thumped his shoulder. “Knock off the King Kong impersonation, Ben. You’re embarrassing me.”

“You’ll survive.” Keeping his eyes on Levi, Ben crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
For reasons that Beth couldn’t begin to fathom, Levi stood there as if he’d take them all three on at once. Idiot.

Determined to gain control, she chanced touching him long enough to give him a good pinch.

“They’re my family, Levi.”

He nodded – but didn’t relax.

Fed up, Beth moved around him. “I’m sorry for the dramatic entrance everyone. Levi is a friend –”

“Damn it, Beth, we left friendship behind days ago.”

Beth let her eyes sink shut. She’d kill him. She’d never speak to him again. She’d –

His hand caught her shoulder and he turned her to face him. As if they stood alone, as if he had no concept of privacy or manners, Levi lowered his nose to almost touch hers.

In a voice that carried to every ear in the room, he ground out, “I’ve had enough, Beth. I mean it. We’re both adults, both healthy, and finally we’re both single. It’s ridiculous for you to be embarrassed just because –”

“Don’t!”

But her warning came too late, and Levi had already said too much. Silence reigned as everyone absorbed his meaning.

Then she felt it, the smiles, the amusement, the awful comprehension.

It took three breaths before Beth could speak.

Eyes narrowed, she nodded at Levi, turned to face her family, and announced, “I’ve changed my mind. Hurt him all you want.”

And with that, she literally ran away.

Noah and Ben kept Levi from following.

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HOT HOLIDAY HOUSEGUESTS by Cheryl Dragon

HOT HOLIDAY HOUSEGUESTS by Cheryl Dragon

Kelly always tried to be a good girl. Finally, she found the man who let her be a little bad with him and gave her the playful discipline she craved. That's the man to marry! Engaged and looking forward to a nice Christmas with his family, she couldn't be happier with her great guy and amazing sex life. Could she?

When her fiance Mark's two sexy cousins come to stay for the holidays and burst in on the couple during sex, her shock quickly turns to arousal. She goes from having one hot man to three, and Mark is behind it all. A girl could get used to having three men fulfilling her sexual needs. But is this a treat for the holidays or can she actually keep them all?

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EXCERPT:

Kelly put all the stress of the wedding plans and freelance graphic projects out of her mind as she lit candles around the living room. Mark’s big project at work was done, and they had a nice weekend ahead of them. She wanted to make sure they took full advantage.

She lit a fire in the big stone fireplace and laid out a thick blanket with a couple of pillows, hiding the handcuffs beneath one. She wanted her fiancé to get the message. She needed some attention.

Mark made her fantasies come true, but he’d been working so much she ached for his time. Being tied up, spanked and a little rough sex was in her future. He loved role playing, and she never felt self-conscious with him. They were a great match sexually and in the rest of life.

It was almost time for him to walk through the front door. She dropped her long silk robe, leaving the see-through lace slip she’d worn underneath. It was cheap and itched a little, but Mark tended to rip her lingerie. He liked that it was the same light blue as her eyes.

Plus the lace hid nothing from view. Kelly grew moist in anticipation. She pulled her hair free from the ponytail she’d worn while she’d worked, and the reddish brown curls spilled over her shoulders.

His key hit the lock, and her cunt tightened. No more working late for him; no more meeting and calls at all hours. Not this weekend. Christmas was this week so they’d have more time alone.

Mark dropped his briefcase as soon as he opened the door and tossed his keys on the side table. Taking off his coat, he finally looked at her.

Kelly smiled. “I missed you.”

Mark pushed the door closed. His wavy brown hair and big brown eyes made her melt, but that strong jaw and muscled form made her ache. The man possessed a confidence in bed she envied and needed. His devilish grin told Kelly the timing was perfect for a seduction. “Looks like you really missed me.”

His dress pants and shirt were gone shortly after his shoes. When he finally got to her, he kissed her hard, holding her against him so all that rough fabric rubbed her tender skin. Mark’s erection throbbed on her hip through his boxers.

“Sure you weren’t waiting for the UPS guy?” he asked.

“Only if I get you both.” It had taken her a year to talk like that. Mark had helped her be freer with her sexual needs and fantasies.

She knelt down and took off his socks then the boxers so he was completely nude. Licking up his shaft, she squeezed his balls. Kelly sucked him down then tongued the tip. It felt like forever since they’d been able to put the outside world truly outside their home.

“In a hurry?” He grabbed her hair and tried to ease her back.

Releasing him, she pulled him down to the blanket. “Not a rush. We’ve got all weekend. But I am in serious need of round one.”

Mark lay on his back and moved a pillow under his head, revealing the cuffs. “You’re begging for a marathon.”

“Not up for it?” She flicked her tongue on the tip of his cock and rolled the taste of his pre-cum around her mouth.

“Oh, you’re in for it.” He smacked her ass through the lace. “You need it faster so you better ride.”

She waited a few seconds to get another sweet slap on her ass. It felt so good her hips wanted to grind back for more. But her pussy’s needs won just then.

Straddling his hips, Kelly slid down onto his cock and felt that sweet reward of fullness. Then Mark gave her a preview of the roughness, jerking the front of her slip until it ripped and her breasts spilled out into his large hands.

He gripped her breasts and held as his teeth and tongue gave her nipples needed attention. The nips and sucks made her cunt quiver, and her hips took over. Riding Mark, she planted her hands on his shoulders and drove hard and fast. She could come twice to his once if she tried. But he could help or hinder that. He loved to tease her.

Her hips worked overtime, grinding on him, not wanting to lose the feeling of fullness. Mark lifted and his hands went from her front to her ass, alternately squeezing and spanking her. “You’re mine this weekend. You’ll do whatever I say.”

She gasped. Didn’t she always play into his fun? She’d do anything. The orgasm hit fast.

“Yes!” Her cunt contracted around him, and she fucked him fast to feel the full impact until the pounding of her release finally slowed.

She heard cheers and clapping. Her fantasies of being watched were never that vivid! Opening her eyes, she saw two familiar men standing there in jeans and T-shirts with big grins.

“Mark!” She jumped up and grabbed her robe.

“Damn it.” Mark tried to follow her.

She slammed the bathroom door behind her and locked it, something Mark had clearly forgotten to do with the front door.

“What the hell?” she demanded.

“Kelly, calm down and let me in.” Mark didn’t seem alarmed.

“What are they doing here?” She recognized Mark’s two cousins. They hung around whenever they were in town. The three of them were close, but she hadn’t been expecting company or she’d never have set up that fantasy in the living room.

“I’m sorry. I told you they were moving back East. Let me in.”

They needed to talk in private.

“Just you.” She flipped the lock.

Mark entered and locked the door behind him. “I’m sorry, but it’s really okay.”

She looked at herself in the mirror. Torn slip, breasts out, and a pink ass. “Okay? How is this okay?”

“They swear they knocked, but we didn’t hear them. I’m sorry I forgot to lock the front door. I grew up in a small town; I never remember.” Mark pulled her close and kissed her. “But it’s not a big deal.”

His cock, still hard and slick, pressed to her. She wanted more, but how could they do anything with guests waiting?

“Not a big deal?” she repeated. “How is it not a big deal that your cousins saw us screwing? Me in full orgasm. I can’t face them.”

His reaction wasn’t normal. They’d seen her practically naked.

A voice came from the living room. “Handcuffs. Kinky.”

“Mark’s lucky,” the other cousin said.

Mark sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just not. I know you had a rigid upbringing about this stuff. But Jack, Paul and I all went to college together. The three of us shared an apartment for five years. We use to…share.”

“Share? Girls?” The idea sank slowly into Kelly’s brain. Her body and mind were both intrigued. Mark was sexually adventurous. “You’re all hot guys. You could have plenty of girls to yourselves.”

Mark grinned. “We did. I know it’s not typical. Look, Paul had a girlfriend who had a fantasy about multiple guys. She trusted us not to get greedy or nasty. She asked Paul, and we talked about it. It was amazing.” He shifted his arms around her, holding her hands behind her back.

“You don’t do stuff with each other?” How far did his kinky side go? These were thing a fiancée should know.

Mark laughed. “No, all the focus is on the woman. We’re related and none of us go that way. Trust me. Sharing is hot if the woman is into being adored and pleasured by more than one guy. We don’t do it all the time. Paul and Jack were totally into you at the family reunion and every time we’ve hung out. But, knowing your history, I wasn’t going to scare you off bringing it up before the wedding.”

“So the plan was to scare me after the wedding?” She shrugged. It wasn’t scary but shocking. Her family was so closed mouth about sex that don’t do it was all they’d say. When her older sister got pregnant at sixteen, she’d been thrown out. Kelly was left with the overbearing and overprotective suspicion heaped on her until she’d gotten away for college—still a virgin.

Mark made her feel safe and free to explore without the judgment her parents had dished out without even letting her date as a teen. She’d dated other guys but until meeting Mark when they were both twenty-seven, no one had made her feel free. Two years together and he kept amazing her. They were engaged and had a nice house.

“No, no scaring you. That was never the plan. I didn’t want to add to the stress of the wedding and the jobs and the holidays, especially if it wasn’t something you’re into. You like fantasy, power and role play stuff. I was trying to figure out how to bring this up.” He pinched her ass, and she pressed back for more. “Maybe you’d like it? Three hot guys, six hands, three mouths and cocks for you. I saw you looking at them on the beach at the family reunion.”

“They’re attractive. They look like you. I’d never cheat.” Kelly knew some might think her love of naughtier sex made her easy, but no one except Mark had seen this side of her. He was what she needed for the rest of her life. No doubts. Now, he wanted to shake things up?

He kissed her tenderly. “I know that, and I’d never cheat on you. If you’re not into this, it’s okay. If you’re interested in trying it, I swear it’s not cheating to me. You gave them a hell of a primer out there. I bet they’re hard already.”

Her face went hot. The idea of more than one man wasn’t new, but she’d never asked for it. How did he know her every fantasy? Mark wanted her to try it. He was hard for it. He had the guys, and she liked and trusted both of them. “Why are they here? Was it a plan? You didn’t know I’d be seducing you tonight.”

“That’s why I’m sorry again. They needed a place to stay. Their business bottomed out in Vegas, and they’re moving back to start over. I meant to tell you they’d be staying with us for Christmas.”

“All that work.” She nodded. He’d been stressed by his job. She could tell, and there was no way to help him. Making him feel guilty about this served no purpose.

“It’s no excuse. I could’ve told them to call you and set it up. I meant to tell you tonight, I figured they’d be in tomorrow or Sunday. I swear I thought they said Sunday morning.”

Kelly tapped her foot, but they were family. She’d never say no to them staying. It was the humiliation of being caught during sex that turned her on and embarrassed her at the same time. “From now on, we discuss houseguests before we agree. Your side or mine for any reason or length of time. I would’ve said yes, but I’m not ready for them.”

“You’re totally right. They were so desperate and pathetic. If they stay with the older relatives, they’ll go nuts. They’re crazy about you.” He nuzzled her neck.

“They didn’t seem to mind the welcome we gave them.” She chewed her lip to hide her smile. Her arousal returned. Three men. If it didn’t work, they could stop. “You’d really be okay with this sharing?”

“The three of us have been talking about it since the beach. You in a bikini made them lose their minds. But they went back out west so it made no sense. Now, that they’re around for the holidays it’s a chance to try it. If you like the idea, believe me I’ll get off on it.”

“And they’ll be living with us?” That temptation would be huge, not that she’d cheat, but it’d add to her sexual needs to see them. Her attraction to Mark and his cousins was undeniable.

“They’re good guys. You know them. Think about it. No pressure or expectations.”

Her fingers skimmed down his body to tease his cock. She needed to know for sure before she admitted her own curiosity. “You really want to watch your cousins fuck me? Eat my pussy?”

His hips snapped. “Yes.”

“You want me on my knees, sucking their cocks while they finger me?” She wanted to know it’d turn him on because once they went down this road, they couldn’t go back. Stop, yes, but not go back.

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