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Authors: Taylor Lee

BOOK: Blue Christmas
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Brady stroked her trembling body. God, what a woman. She was stunning, unbelievable. Her passion was as intense, as fierce as his own. He had the distinct sense that she’d never known this kind of pleasure, this level of abandon. The knowledge only ratcheted his own desire higher. Damn, if he didn’t get inside of her, and soon, he was going to come in his trousers.

Nuzzling against her ear, his voice was deep, rough. He groaned, “I
need
you, Tiffany. I need you now.”

His voice was thick with lust. He unzipped his trousers and released is straining erection.

Tiffany’s eyes widened, “Oh my God, Brady. You are… you are beautiful. Splendid. Let me… may I touch you?”

Brady groaned a mix of lust and pain. “God, yes, darlin’. Please. I’m hungry for your touch. And then Tiffany, I need to come in you.”

Clearly, she was stunned at his size. He doubted that she had ever had such a big man. And he knew from touching her, that she was tight. That it had likely been some time since she’d had a lover. But the sensations clamoring inside him couldn’t be ignored. He was hungry for her.

“Tiffany, I can’t wait for a bed.”

Tossing a pillow on the floor, he gently laid her down. Kneeling, he moved between her legs.

“Open for me, Tiffany. Spread your legs, darlin’. Wider, honey. Yeah, like that. Just like
that
.”

He nudged her legs further apart and with one hand ripped open the foil packet and sheathed himself. Pressing against her entrance he groaned.

“Damn, Tiffany. You’re tight. Fuck, baby. I don’t want to hurt you—”

She cried out. “No, Brady, no. Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop. I want you. I want you so much.”

He felt a rush of moisture as her body prepared for him. When he moved to enter her, something happened deep inside of him, something that was beyond a physical response. He drove inside of her, knowing that in some primal way, like an animal claiming his mate, he had to have her, all of her. His balls drew tight up against his body. When she cried out as yet another orgasm raced through her in hard shuddering waves, he drove deep, hard, thrusting again and again. When he could go no farther, he exploded, burying himself in her body and roared a wild, hoarse shout that echoed hers.

Much later, he carried her to her bed, tenderly washing her sweaty body, smiling at her murmurs of gratitude and pleasure. In the middle of the night he woke and found himself wrapped around her. She murmured, “Yes, Brady. Yes, please. Now.”

He took her again and again. He was insatiable, and, to his delight, so was she.

Chapter 9

“Brady, I’m starving.”

He stood in the bedroom door, grinning at her. It was already ten o’clock. He’d woken fifteen minutes earlier, and tried not to wake her. After all, they’d finally fallen asleep a scant four hours earlier. Her glorious hair was tousled and her lips were puffy, swollen. Her eyes were shining as she gazed up at him. She saw him staring at her naked breasts, and quickly drew the sheet around her, her cheeks flushing a lovely pink.

“God, Tiffany, you’re as beautiful dressed in a sheet as you are in a gorgeous cocktail dress. And yes, darlin’, I’m hungry and from the quick perusal I did of your refrigerator—”

She laughed. “No, we definitely will have to go out. How about the restaurant we went to the other day. I’m sure by now they’ve had a chance to stock up after you cleaned them out of a week’s worth of supplies.”

“Well darlin’, we better go quick. I don’t know how much longer I can stand here knowing that under that sheet is the most gorgeous body and the hottest woman in all of Korea—in all the world.”

Grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around her, she ran past him to the bathroom.

“Oh no, I know what will happen if I give you an inch. We’ll never get out of here and I am truly hungry.”

He smiled and swatted her butt as she ran by.

“If you give me an inch? Damn, Tiffany, I thought I was insatiable. And honey, just so you know? I am. And when we get back…”

~~~

She gazed at him in wonder.

“I’ve never seen anyone eat so much food. You are amazing.”

He grinned at her.

“I’m a hungry man, Tiffany.”

She flushed.

He put his hand over hers. “And, darlin’, you are one gloriously hungry woman.”

When he finally sat back in his chair and told the wide eyed little Korean man, ‘no more’, they all laughed including the man’s wife. The two Korean people had brought him serving after serving and were as amazed with his appetite as Tiffany was.

They sat quietly enjoying the American coffee, both of them luxuriating in the fact that they had nothing on the agenda today but each other. Tiffany rejoiced in their ability to sit quietly without speaking—but had so many things she wanted to say. To begin with, she owed him an apology.

“Brady?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Thank you for saying those things about me in front of all the people at the party last night.”

“God, Tiffany. I could have talked for hours, praising you.”

He grinned. “And that was before I made love to you. But, seriously, Tiff, you must know how admired you are. Damn, I thought I’d never get away from Gen. Thornton. All he wanted to do was make me promise I wouldn’t steal you away from the U.S. Army. Which by the way, I refused to promise.”

Tiffany let that assertion pass, but pressed. “Thank you. And I know they admire me, especially the way I can fight. But sometimes I get so frustrated. You know most military men are chauvinist pigs.”

Brady sighed. “Darlin’, I’m the worst chauvinist there is. At least as far as you are concerned. Tiffany, when that bastard had his Glock pressed against your neck, something snapped inside of me. I don’t know, honey, if it is built into us or, if it’s us alpha guys, but damn, I know Jake would tear a man to pieces if anything happened to Lexie. Maybe rather than chauvinism, it’s more about a need to protect.”

He was so sincere that Tiffany didn’t take issue with him. She’d seen that look in his eyes, and she’d known that Brady would die protecting her if he had to. It was a humbling thought.

“I’m sorry I was such a brat. Running away. Leaving the hospital. I know I hurt you.”

He nodded.

“Yeah, darlin’. Those were a couple of bad days. I would have run you down somehow, but Marty promised me he’d get you to the party, so I decided to pull back and let you walk into my trap.”

Tiffany pretended to be shocked, but she could just imagine Marty doing exactly that—and, she thought, thank goodness he did. She hesitated, but then wanted to try to explain.

“It was just that, we were getting so close. Even that first day. It… you… scared me, Brady.… I kinda have an issue with trust.”

Brady put his hand over hers.

“We’re going to have to work on that, Tiffany. Both of us.”

They stopped at his quarters so that he could change and pack a bag. On the way back to her apartment, it began to snow. By the time they reached her place there was a light coating of snow on the ground.

“Oh, look, Brady! Look at these huge snowflakes. This truly is a white Christmas. Isn’t it beautiful?”

He leaned over and kissed the wet flakes on her eyelids, then moved down to her mouth and pulled her close. His voice was husky.

“Yes, Tiffany without a doubt, this is the most beautiful snow I’ve ever seen.”

He held her for a moment then pushed her back his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Let’s make Christmas Angels!”

She frowned, not understanding.

“You know—snow angels.”

Tiffany didn’t want to tell him that her youth had been mostly about guns, warriors, and tournaments.”

She shook her head. “I…I hate to admit it, but I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Brady responded in mock dismay. “Good God, girl, what kind of a childhood did you have? This was a key part of every Christmas in my family. It’s easy. I’ll teach you. But you have to do exactly as I say or they won’t be real Christmas Angels.”

“Hmm, why does that sound suspicious?”

He roared. “No, it’s simple. First of all you have to lie down.”

She stared at him in surprise. “What? Where?”

“In the snow, silly!”

“I have to lie down in the snow?”

“Yep, flat on your back.”

When she stared at him in disbelief, Brady’s eyes danced. “No, honey I’m serious. Here, I’ll show you.”

He lay down in the snow and then spread his arms out wide and moved them up and down.

“See, this is how you make your wings.”

Tiffany momentarily frowned, but then couldn’t hide her smile at his enjoyment.

“Okay,” she said. “So I’m laying down in the snow and I’ve spread my wings. Now what?”

He grinned at her.

“Well, boy angels just make wings and keep their legs together, but girl angels? After you spread your wings, then you have to make your angel gown.”

“How do I do that?”

He frowned with mock seriousness. “It’s easy. First, you open and close your legs to make the gown…”

He knelt down beside her, his eyes bright with suppressed laughter.

“And then you leave them open… wide… so that the boy angel can lie on top of you… like this.”

He climbed on top of her, laughing softly, then kissed her slowly, lovingly. Within seconds, she felt the growing bulge of his erection and the responding quivers of sensations between her legs.

She groaned, “And your mother let you do this?”

He nuzzled against her neck and chuckled. “I seem to remember we stopped making them about the time I turned fourteen and my cousin Rachel was thirteen.”

~~~

“Do you know what I’d like to do?”

Brady was putting on Christmas music and laughed. “Sure as hell hope it is what I’m thinking.”

She laughed. “Absolutely, but first, let’s make cookies? That is the one thing I always did on Christmas. I even bought all the ingredients.”

“I think it’s a great idea. Go for it. As long as I can help decorate. Plus, I like lots of frosting.”

After Tiffany made the dough, and a large bowl of icing, Brady sidled up to her.

“Can we make any shape we want?”

She laughed. “Of course. What did you have in mind?”

“How about we each make our own? You get half the dough, I get the rest.”

Tiffany couldn’t hide her smile. “Why do I feel that I might be seeing some Christmas angels?”

He put up his hands. “Absolutely not. It’s a sin to eat out Angels. The nuns told me that.”

Tiffany shrieked with laughter. “You are incorrigible! Here. Take your dough and behave!”

He shrugged, but gave her a little wink. “I’ll try.”

He refused to let her see his cookies until he took them out of the oven. Peeking around him she saw something that looked a lot like two giant mounds.

“Do you have any pink food coloring?”

“No, but if you just put in a few drops of red, it will make it pink. But—”

She pushed him aside, and laughed so hard her stomach hurt. It was clear that Brady was making an amazing set of breasts.

He gave her a playful push and pretended to cover the bountiful mounds.

“Oh, and do you have any raisins or maybe some tight little berries, preferably red?”

“Okay. You asked for it. You sit over there and behave. And yes, I do have some craisins. The look like little red berries.”

She was still laughing when she turned her back and got out her rolling pin. She worked for several minutes and then made him hide his eyes while she put her pan in the oven.

Cheerfully humming along with the Christmas music, Brady began decorating his gingerbread breasts. He ignored Tiffany’s giggles as he worked diligently on the pink nipples. When he was finished he held them up for her inspection, then with a flourish, pressed a bright red craisin on top of each.

She was laughing so hard she had tears rolling down her face, when he pulled her toward him. But he frowned at them.

“Something’s not right. Come here, Tiffany.”

Before she could protest, he’d whipped her t-shirt over her head and freed her breasts. Cupping them in his big hands, he nodded his head.

“Ah, I see what I did wrong.”

To her shrieks of laughter and false protests, he reached behind himself and scooped up a handful of frosting. To her faux-horrified delight, he spread it all over her breasts and placed a tiny craisin on top of each hard peaked nipple. Several minutes and one astonishing orgasm later, he’d almost licked off all of the frosting.

At that moment, the oven timer rang.

She put her hand over his eyes. “Turn your head, don’t look!”

He laughed. “That’s gonna be hard, darlin’ when the baker still has pink icing on her beautiful bare breasts.”

She opened the oven and laughed out loud.

“Oh, oh! These ‘rose’ a little more than I expected.”

Looking over her shoulder, Brady roared when he saw that she had made a reasonably anatomically correct phallus, supported by two round testicle-like balls.

He was still laughing when she looked up at him in mock seriousness.

“Brady, I need to see something.”

He pinned her with a suspicious look. “Hmm, like what?”

She smiled. “Do you mind taking off your pants?”

He grinned. “Under ordinary circumstances, no. But…Well given that you bared your gorgeous breasts for me so that I could make sure I was making them correctly—”

As he unzipped his jeans, he guffawed.

“Don’t want to shock you baby, but I can’t be within five feet of you before my dick comes to full attention.”

When he stripped off his pants and stood naked before her, her eyes widened and she pressed her hand against her mouth.

“I… I see what you mean.”

Glancing from the suddenly miniscule-looking ‘cookie’ to his iron-hard shaft that reached nearly to his navel, she sighed. Reaching for the bowl of icing, she giggled. “I guess it would be better if I just decorate the real thing, or we’ll run out of frosting.”

She sunk down on her knees before him and looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with saucy laughter.

“Tell you what, soldier boy. How about you spread
your
legs so that I can do this ‘work of art’ justice.”

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