Christmas Angel: A Holiday Romance Page 5

  Remembering the sultry woman who was currently waiting for me upstairs, I quietly made my way into the bedroom. I grinned as I found my present lying in bed. A pink Santa hat on her head, a pink mini skirt hitched high up her thighs, and white and pink candy cane striped stockings attached to some seriously sexy white stiletto heels. My favorite. She’d changed into a white sheer bra, and her plump breasts rose and fell in rhythm with her peaceful breathing.

  She looked like Christmas cotton candy and I licked my lips and rubbed my hands together ready to savor my treat. As I approached the bed I nearly laughed. My candy cane had fallen asleep while she waited for me. After everything we’d done today, the party, the cooking, the hosting, I couldn’t blame her. But I wanted my treat and she’d promised.

  Stripping quickly, my cock leapt forward knowing immediately what it wanted. I crawled onto the king sized bed, slowly spreading my wife’s legs apart. I groaned as her pink pussy came into view. Stretching out between her legs I took my first lick.

  Her breathing remained rhythmic as I dragged my tongue up and down her puffy lips, leisurely lapping at her, getting her nice and wet for me. As my tongue curled around her clit, her breath hitched and I looked up, hoping she’d wake. Her legs spread and she moaned lightly, but her eyes remained closed.

  I smiled to myself as I took my last lick and knelt before her, my cock dragging along her swollen center. Her lips parted and her hips swiveled, lightly humping up at me. I smirked, even in dreamland she wanted me.

  I wanted to fuck her awake. So I rolled her clit with my thumb, her body responding to my fondling. She moaned a little louder this time and I leaned forward to kiss her lips.

  “Wake up sweetheart,” I plunged into her, filling her up completely as her eyes flew open. Her mouth gaped in a shocked, silent scream, her pussy spasming from my surprise intrusion.

  “Fuck,” I groaned as I fucked her slowly. Her eyes never leaving mine while her hands fisted the sheets. Her hips lifted to meet each thrust, urging me to fuck her harder, but I kept my rhythm slow and torturous.

  “Christian,” she moaned my name as she gripped my arms, pulling herself closer to me.

  “You’re such a tempting little candy cane. I couldn’t keep my cock out of your sweet pussy, baby.”

  “Ohh, God,” she moaned as I dragged my cock in and out of her, taking my time as I rolled her clit with my thumb.

  “You know what I want, baby. Gimme what I want.”

  Her breath held as I fucked her faster, my hips pounding into her now, driving her wild. Her tits bounced in that sheer white bra and I growled as I propped her up, bringing those nipples up to my mouth.

  Her hands swept through my hair and she groaned needy. “Oh my God, I needed this.”

  “Mmmmm, me too,” I growled as I yanked her bra down finally getting my fill of her velvety tips.

  “Nothing compares to having you inside me,” she whimpered in between moans.

  My cock swelled up inside of her and I plunged my hips down into her, rolling our bodies in a needy dance. Her arms and legs held me tight as we tumbled into an array of hot passionate kisses, greedy moans, and muffled screams as she came undone for me.

  She shuddered in the aftermath as I lay wrapped around her waist. My head on her chest as she stroked my hair. I loved wrapping myself up in her, falling asleep buried inside of her.

  “Will it always be this way?” She asked me, her voice sleepy.

  “It will be any way you wish, my precious Angel.”

  She smiled as her eyes drifted closed, and I lay there, for a long time, watching her sleep. Nearly ten years ago I walked into a bar, unbeknownst to me, the love of my life would be waiting for me. It took some convincing, we had our arguments and our doubts, but the most important thing was that we knew we had each other. No matter what.

  She always called me her hero, but in the end she saved me. I was drowning in my past and she gave me a future. A family. And love.

  Coveted Desire

  MICHAEL

  Sweetness and fire wrapped into one delicious package

  And she’s come to tempt me in every way possible.

  This push and pull between us is driving me insane,

  And if she continues to push me onto that ledge,

  I swear I’ll take her down with me into an erotic abyss

  That will leave us both breathless from the sweet torment.

  Staying away from her is my escape,

  Keeping her is the only alternative that won’t destroy me.

  ADRIANA

  He said I was meant to save him,

  But I wasn’t prepared for what that entailed.

  He's trapped me in his passionate chaos

  And I'm defenseless against him.

  Back and forth we go in this seductive wheel of desire,

  A desire that will only be quenched by his touch.

  How can I turn away from the only man who makes me want to lose control?

  He is the most exquisite form of self-torture I’ve ever known.

  He is my storm.

  Chapter One

  Michael

  I glared at the blank screen in front of me. The white document blaring at me, screaming at me to put down one word…just one.

  I had nothing.

  For months I had gone over it in my head, a new story, a new whirlwind romance, some semblance of darkness that wanted to bleed onto the screen, but for the first time in my ten years as an author, the muses had left me. I couldn’t bring myself to write not one word.

  I looked at the clock reading nine in the evening. There was something I needed to do tonight, I just couldn’t remember what it was. My thoughts wandered back to the screen. There was only one sentence that glared back at me. It seemed to mock me as the minutes ticked by.

  Find a story within.

  No kidding. To top it off my publisher was waiting on the first book in a new goddamn series. How was I supposed to put down one hundred and twenty thousand words, when I couldn’t even get one? I had tried everything to get my mind in the place I needed it to be, from watching dark television shows earlier this week to reading books on captivity and BDSM, but nothing enlightened me. I had drawn a fucking blank and I felt like I was drowning in nothingness.

  The ideas were on the tip of my tongue, but it was like a fog that wouldn’t lift. If I could only sift through that damn fog and find one word, one sentence that would trigger me. At the moment, that just seemed impossible.

  My phone was ringing somewhere in that distant fog and I managed to snap out of it long enough to answer it.

  “Knight, here.”

  “Mike!”

  “Hey, Sam what’s up?”

  “Why are you not here?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Fuck, Mike! Again?”

  My mind went on overdrive and I vaguely recalled that I had something to do tonight. “Was I supposed to be somewhere?”

  “I’m getting you a PA.”

  “I don’t need a PA, I can handle shit myself.”

  “Apparently not. This event was important, I expected my authors to be here. All my authors! Especially bestselling ones.”

  Fuck! The mention of the twentieth anniversary of Decadent Publishing leaped into my mind. “Fuck, Sam! I’m so sorry. Gimme an hour, I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Don’t bother.” The disappointment was clear in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, man. I really am.”

  “At least tell me it was because you couldn’t stop typing. That you have some new crazy idea that you needed to put down on paper.”

  Silence ensued as I tried to figure out a way to tell him that I hadn’t written not one word down. Well, except for that goddamn sentence.

  “Yeah, about that…”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me! Come on, Mike!”

  “I don’t work well under pressure, Sam. You know this.”

  “I’ve given you three months. Three!
You should have gotten something to me already!” I sat listening to his angry puffs of air. I figured if I stayed quiet he’d calm down. After a moment, he continued.

  “I’m getting you a Publishing Editor,” his tone was low, and it was clear I wasn’t getting out of this one.

  “I already have one.”

  “Reece is a Book Editor and she has not been performing to standards lately. I need someone there with you to help you along.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “No. But if you don’t have something to me by the end of the month you’ll need a new Publishing Company.”

  I smirked. “Empty threats don’t suit you, Samuel King.”

  “Who said they were empty? Your contract with Decadent ends at the end of this month. We hold the power to renew that contract.”

  I sat up in my chair. “You wouldn’t?”

  “Yeah, I would. Business is business, Mr. Knight.”

  The silence was heavy between us and then his frustrated sigh broke through. “I’m just going to send some help. It’ll be good for you.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  “The fuck you don’t. I bet you’ve been staring at your damn screen for the last hour.”

  Three hours, but I wasn’t admitting that to anyone.

  “I need a break, Sam. I’m stressed. I won’t be able to finish any type of manuscript under your pressure.”

  “The contract you signed stated eight books this year. The year’s almost up and you’ve got three books left.”

  I frowned and looked down at my keyboard; my fingers hovered over the keys. “I’m going to put you in as my new villain.”

  “Good. Make me a fucking crime boss. I’d fucken love that.”

  “Goddammit, Sam. I don’t need help, man.”

  “You’ve missed two deadlines already, what do you expect? I need you to give me something, Mike. Anything.”

  I sighed, rubbing at my temples, frustrated that I wasn’t able to get any work done. Being hindered like this felt like a handicap. I wanted to throw my laptop against the wall and forget everything.

  Samuel King had been a friend since I first started in the author business. I knew he was trying to help me, but he could be intense sometimes. Having thirty bestsellers and being on the top ten of the New York Times most read authors list was saying something. I was burnt out, tired and I needed something new, something different in my life.

  “I just need a break, man.”

  “You can have a nice long break after you provide me with a story. Fuck, an outline!”

  “I don’t know. You know I like flying solo. I’m better off on my own.”

  “Says the man who hasn’t been able to write a single word down in over three months.”

  I gazed out my office window, the Chicago Skyline shone in the distance. It was raining in Chicago, nothing new. Unlike half the population who lived here, I actually enjoyed the rain. It brought me peace, feeling that my spirit was being cleansed with every drop. I closed my eyes listening to the soft rhythmic pattern of raindrops against the window.

  “I need to go.”

  “She’ll be there on Tuesday.”

  “I already told you, I don’t need any help, Sam!”

  “Don’t fight me on this. You’re going to get some help. I already chose the girl. She’s quiet, she’s professional and she doesn’t stir up drama. Every author she’s worked with adores her. She’ll be perfect for you. I’ll make sure she knows to stay out of your way as much as possible. This girl is the best we’ve got. Just bounce some ideas off her. If it doesn’t work then fine, I’ll give you your break. But if she’s able to give you a spark of something new, she stays.”

  “Bullshit. That girl is going to be right in my face the entire time, isn’t she?”

  I could see him smirking at the other end of the line. “Just trust me on this man. She’ll be good for you.”

  Frustrated, I hung up the phone on him. Help? Please. And from one of those prissy little girls, no less, who think they knew everything there is to know about an author just because they read a few books. What the fuck would she know about writing a book?

  There was a reason I worked alone. I had my own space, I worked at my own pace. I didn’t have to constantly be interrupted when I was in the middle of a thought. I had gotten this office a few years back when my marriage was finally coming to an end.

  My ex-wife was a piece of work, always finding ways to disrupt me, never any respect from her, I realized too late that she was a selfish woman. The more I asked her to be patient, to work with me, the worst she got. It was like being in a stingray tank where everything seemed tranquil until she passed by leaving a sharp shock that left you breathless. I was fighting for air and if I wasn’t careful, she’d take me down with her.

  But I needed to work, so I bought the penthouse suite and created an office which ensued an array of fights and ruthless jealousy over how I was actually sleeping with someone else. Even after I invited her there after I took time out to make sure I got home on time, that I interrupted my day to call and see if she was alright. Nothing mattered to her. She said I was, trying too hard.

  They say jealousy is a disease and I saw how it destroyed her…us. Slowly eating away at the love we once shared. It was a turbulent time for both of us and it ruined what was once a beautiful marriage. Ten years. Ten years of our precious time went to waste within months. When I decided to put in for the divorce she’d begged me to stay, but she’d already ruined what we had. She’d already destroyed the love I had for her. I was tired of fighting and I was ready to move on.

  After a tedious year of figuring out how much alimony I needed to give away, I finally gave her the house and kept my office in the heart of Chicago. I lived out of this office, but at least it was nice to have a place of my own. Quiet and peaceful.

  But now Samuel King wanted to ruin my peace by bringing in another woman into my life. A stranger that was about to barge into my thoughts, my privacy. I frowned as I pictured the frumpy woman he was about to send me. Knowing Sam, he’d choose the least likely woman for me so that I’d keep my dick in my pants and my mind on the books.

  If he wanted to force me to do this, then you can rest assured there was absolutely no way I was going to make this easy for him or for this stranger.

  Chapter Two

  Adriana

  I sat in the VP’s office at Decadent Publishing wondering why I had been called in. I had been working for Decadent for the past three years and I enjoyed my job. I considered myself a simple Book Editor. One that worked in an eight by eight cubicle tucked in a far corner. There was no need for me to be here unless something went wrong with a book or an author.

  I usually keep my head down and do my work diligently. I was known for meeting my deadlines way ahead of schedule and I was the only Book Editor who worked in other languages and different genres, not just Erotic Romance. In turn, that gave me access to a variety of authors to work with. I always kept to myself which is why being in the VPs office now, was a bit disconcerting.

  I looked out the floor to ceiling windows of the Chelsea offices and as always, was mesmerized by the New York City skyline. To say I was in love with my city was putting it lightly. I adored living here, the lights, the convenience, the eclecticism. I moved back just a few years ago and I finally had a place to call my own.

  It was home, the city of a million stories, yet I was still trying to find one of my own. If I could only get my head wrapped around finishing one, then maybe I could make my dream come true. I was always hesitating, always second guessing myself. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Being a book editor, you’re constantly helping authors perfect their work. I itched to finally put down my own words on paper. To watch them come to life in the eyes of my own readers.

  “Miss Montes!”

  The man that walked in was intimidating, to say the least. I’d seen him in pictures and on social media, but being in his presence was
an entirely new experience. He oozed confidence in his well-tailored suit, expensive Armani loafers, and with those penetrating blue eyes and that dark hair slicked back, he looked like a model that stepped right out of a fashion magazine. I blinked a few times as he strolled into the room, the smell of his expensive cologne filling the space.

  As I stood, he reached for my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Miss Montes. I’ve spoken to many of your authors and they have only good things to say about you.”

  “Oh?”

  His handshake was warm, his eyes kind, and his voice was boastful and cheery. My concern quickly decimated in his presence.

  “Please,” he gestured to the chair and I slowly took a seat.

  He undid the button of his suit jacket and took a seat in the leather chair next to mine. He smiled at me and I simply sat there staring at him.

  “Do you know why I called you in, Miss Montes?”

  “Adriana, please. And, no. To be honest I have no clue.”

  “Well, I won’t hold you in suspense much longer. I need your help, Miss Mon...Adriana.” He smiled.

  “Yes, of course. What can I do for you?”

  “I have an author who is in need of some guidance.”

  I nodded slowly. “Okay. So do they need me to read through some page proofs?”

  “No. He needs help with a storyline, but I find it best if my editors go meet their authors every once in a while. He, especially, needs someone to be there to make sure he gets that… push, he needs.”

  “But the Production Editors are the ones who usually get out to see the authors.”

  He gave me a warm smile. “I think it’s time that you start getting out there and meeting your authors.”

  I blinked up at him trying to assimilate what he just told me. When I spoke he was already chuckling. “A Production Editor?”