Holiday Romance Collection - 6 Books Bundle (Erotic Romance - Holiday Romance) (4 page)

“Maeve.”

He stood in the doorway. Watching her with his wide open dark gaze. The “professional” face was gone. Her husband stood in front of her. “I never meant to hurt you with my actions or my job,” he said. “The job is finished. I gave that up before I even landed in
America
. I want my life back. I want my wife back.”

She shot up from the bed as if it was on fire, turned and walked to the farthest wall in the large room that suddenly felt small. Jacob came further into the room, slowly, like a hunter stalking a skittish cat.

“Is that too much to ask for?” he asked. “Am I too late?”

She swallowed hard, watching his face. The face she’d kept close in dreams for so many months, so many years. She’d missed him. She wanted him in her life again. But she was afraid.

“No,” she said softly. “You’re not too late.”

Maeve leaned back against the wall. Cool air from the a/c brushed over her face and throat. She braced her palms flat against the wall behind her as she watched Jacob.

He turned and closed the door behind. It clicked softly in the silence, deafening. She licked her mouth and waited for him, her breath coming deeply, steadily.

“Maeve.” He walked toward her, his steps light and easy.

“Yes, Jacob.”

“I missed you.”

More tears fell. She felt like a leaking sea, an endless source of salt water pouring out toward him. “I’ve been so empty without you.”

“I’m here to fill you up,” he said. “I’ll fill you up everyday, as often as you let me. I’ll fill you until you overflow.” Jacob touched her face, thumbed a tear from her cheek. “As long as I live, I’ll never leave you again.”

Maeve flung herself into his arms and pressed her mouth to his. This was what she had been waiting for. This coming home, this promise. Her husband, hers again. Her life, whole again. He hadn’t defined her life while he had lived and they had lived together, but his absence had stripped hers down to the bone, she’d allowed herself to love him that much. And always felt, despite his protestations to the contrary, that he loved his job more than he loved her, that he would always be there for it but would sometimes, maybe be there for her.

But here, he was, telling her what she needed to hear. Doing what she needed him to do. He returned her kiss, a firm press of lips, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, his big body backing her into the wall, shutting out everything but his scent, the sound of their breathing, his hands moving with a whisper over her clothes, her back, her butt.

He tasted like coffee. Hot and dark in her mouth, his smell of sweat and the salty
Miami
air overwhelming her senses as he pressed against her. Maeve opened her mouth for him, clenched her fingers in his hair, arched her body up and into his. It had been so long.

“Jacob.”

“I’m here, baby,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’m here.”

The frantic need for him quickened through her, warmed her, heated her, until she gripped his shirt in her hands to unbutton them. But the impatience in her ripped the blue cotton and scattered the buttons all over the floor. She needed to feel his bare body against hers. Only his hard chest, muscled and faintly furred against her breasts, could stop her nipples’ ache. She gasped against his lips, kissing him fiercely, clutching the edges of his torn shirt as she shoved her tank top up over her head, sweeping it to the floor. Then his hands were on her breasts, shaping them through the thin bra, squeezing her nipples. She gasped.

“Jacob!”

“I’ve missed you so much,” he groaned.

The bra unsnapped and fell away, his hands found her bare breasts, then his mouth, the stubble from his beard delightfully rough against her soft skin, his tongue licking her nipples, agitating her skin. Her heart pounded, the wetness between her thighs grew. She gripped his head close, pulled him closer, gasped under his urgent attentions.

His chest was hard and muscular under her hands, the sculpted planes of his body a familiar landscape she longed to kiss, to stroke, to feel under her, over her. She pinched his nipples as he sucked hers, raked her nails over the hard lines of his body, gasped between his body and the wall, the fire of desire out of control under her skin.

“Jacob!”

“Baby, I can’t wait,” he groaned against her mouth. “It’s been too long.”

He undid her jeans and grabbed the loose waist, jerked them down along with her panties. Cool air flooded over her hot sex. He dropped to his knees to tug the jeans from around her legs and off to the side.

“You smell so good!”

He hungrily kissed her sex. Heaved her up against the wall, spreading her, flinging her thigh over his shoulder as his mouth dove into her, licking her wetness, not tasting, not tentative but hungrily devouring her as if she was his last and only meal. His tongue plunged into her, licking and stretching, his fingers on the hot button of her passion swirling against it as his tongue took her, stretched her, filled her, a prelude to what his body would do.

Maeve gasped, as the heat inside her spread higher, a tingling fire of lust licking through her body with each movement of his tongue on her center. He held her open with his big hands. She gripped his hair, flung her head back against the wall, feeling the cool air on her bare nipples, his hot mouth on womanhood. His tongue flicked against her and she jerked against the wall, gasping his name again. The spring inside her tightened. Tightened, tightened and released. She exploded. Shuddering between the wall and his hot, insistent mouth.

“Jacob!”

He swiftly stood up, unzipped, and buried himself inside her. Groaning like a man in pain. He stretched her. Filled her. Took her. His body slamming into hers, into the wall again and again. His hot, huffing breath smelled like her sex. She moaned as arousal spun through her again. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clasped him tight, urged him deeper, held him as he plundered her, took her, took her passion even higher than before with the jackhammer movement of his body inside hers. His hands gripped her hips, tightened on his skin.

He groaned her name and began to tremble. He peaked inside her, spilling his hot gushing seed with a harsh, crying shout. He shuddered.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to make it last but I couldn’t.” He panted. “I’m sorry.”

She pressed her hands to his hot cheeks. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She flushed. “I came too.”

“I know. But only once. I want to make this last. For both of us.” He slowly withdrew his body from hers, stood her on her feet.

She felt the wetness from their lovemaking between her legs, the product of their desire spill down her thigh.

“There’s still time,” she said, kissing his mouth. “Unless you have someplace you have to go.”

He shook his head. “I’m all yours, baby. Now and for as long as you want me.”

He took off the torn remnants of his shirt, bent quickly to shuck the jeans down his thick thighs and kicked them off. Jacob lifted her and took her to the bed. She wrapped her arms around him, sighing in his familiar and beloved embrace as he kissed her deeply and pressed her down into the mattress, covering her nakedness with his own.

“I love you,” he said.

Then proceeded to show her exactly how much. Making love to her satisfaction-starved body under the bright lights of the bedroom. They filled the evening, night, and early morning with the groans, gasps, and gentle slapping and sucking sounds of their passion. The sun rose through the window, washing the bedroom in shades of pink and gold, spilling over the hills of his back clasped under her hands, the taut rise of his buttocks as he thrust languidly into her, glinting in the sweat glistening on his body.

She whispered his name, another orgasm bursting like a sunrise inside her, his explosion following soon after, the sun rising higher in the room, blessing them with a new day together.

Jacob rolled onto his back, taking her with him. He panted softly from their exertions and she lay on top of him, the sheets kicked away, the hot sweat beginning to dry on her skin. His heart thumped against hers. She blinked down at him, this beautiful and amazing man who was her husband. Maeve threaded her fingers through his hair, cupped his face in her hands.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said softly.

He smiled up at her, an unexpected dimple appearing in his beard-stubbled cheek. “There’s no place else for me to be.” He clasped her hard against him as if he had no intension of ever letting her go.

Maeve sighed and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat as the sun continued to rise on their beautiful Christmas morning.

Do you like this book? Be sure to check other books in this series

New Year surpr
i
se - Volume 2

Winter Pass
i
on - Volume 3

Season of Desir
e
- Trilogy

     Andrea Nichols looked in the mirror again for what must have been the hundredth time.  Her stomach roiled uneasily, and she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.  She knew she shouldn’t be so nervous; after all she looked great.   Her blond hair was piled high on her head in an elegant bun, with a few tendrils curling around the sides.  Her make-up was perfect, and the dress she wore hugged every curve of her body just right.  The high hemline showed off her lean and muscular legs, and the low cut bodice showed just the right amount of cleavage to be alluring, but not too slutty.  Best of all, it was the same shade of blue as her eyes.  She knew that most guests at the Christmas party would be wearing red or green and she’d be sure to stand out, only now did she suddenly regret that decision and wish she’d chosen a dress that would allow her to blend in.  No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t shake off that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought of having to see Evan again tonight. 

      “Get a hold of yourself Andie!” she admonished herself.  At twenty-six years of age, she had a lot going for her.  She was smart, beautiful, and had a great career.  She shouldn’t let her ex-boyfriend get to her so badly and yet she couldn’t stop herself.  After all, she had been with Evan Harrington for two years and three months.  That’s a total of twenty-seven months of her life that she’d wasted, waiting desperately for him to ask her to marry him.  Because she thought she loved him, she’d put up with his controlling nature, even though she hated the way it made her feel inside.  He told her what to clothes to wear, what food to eat, what places she could go, and even who she could be friends with.   Finally, it got to be too much for her, and they’d had a huge fight.  He’d stormed out of her apartment, and she hadn’t seen or talked to him since.  That was just three days ago.  Now, she knew she’d have to see him again for the first time tonight, and she wished more than anything that she could just stay home, but that would be like letting him win. 

      “If you don’t want to go; don’t go” her best friend Melissa had said simply, over lunch that afternoon.

      “Evan knows that I’ve been looking forward to this Christmas party for weeks.  If I’m not there, he’ll know it’s because I’m avoiding him.  I can’t give him that satisfaction.”

     “Then go, and be the hottest girl there!” Melissa said, slapping her palm on the table.  “Show him that you don’t need him telling you what to do anymore.  Let him see that you’ve gotten over him and are doing fine on your own!”

       “I will!” Andie had said with a confidence she didn’t quite feel, especially now that the time had come to actually face him.  She still remembered all the awful things he had said to her the night he left.  She’d been expecting him to propose when she saw a ring in his dresser months ago and finally worked up the courage to ask him about it.  He’d laughed at her callously.

      “That’s my grandmother’s ring” he’d scoffed condescendingly.  “Why on earth would have thought I was planning to give it to you?  Get serious!  Now hurry up, or we’ll miss our dinner reservation.  Wear the red dress I gave you.”

       “I like what I have on.” Andie had said, somewhat sullenly.  His comments about the ring had more than hurt her feelings.  They’d been dating for over two years, why wouldn’t he want to give her his grandmother’s ring?  Did he think she was beneath him?