Happy Holidays from Gabe & Mirella….and Weston! The Ground Rules: Two Beautiful Couples, Five Simple Rules, One Hot Mess!
I shrug and laugh out loud. Gabe’s mouth against my neck tickles.
“Keep the hat. You look smokin’ with the hat.”
I’m not quite sure how the Santa hat ended up on my head. I think
I plopped it on when I was emptying the Christmas boxes, digging the
ornaments out, and praying to God they weren’t broken…
Somehow Gabe and I have ended up in bed, with the bedroom
door locked. When we opened the Christmas boxes, the girls were
very excited to see all the holiday movies. And always the resourceful
guy, Gabe suggested they watch one of them, “With popcorn and
everything.” I smiled at him and reminded him that we had a tree
and a house to decorate. But he told me he could think of much
more fun things we could be doing—and Gabe’s idea of fun usually
involves a bed…or a chair, or countertop…
He takes his sweet time as he unbuttons my blouse, from the
“We have an hour and forty-two minutes,” he whispers in my ear.
Every button he undoes brings me closer to desire. I love watching his large hands
working their way up slowly to my breasts. He shoots me a wicked smile as I grab a handful of
I want him.
“Is the door locked?” God, he looks more delicious than the hot
cocoa we were just about to have before he dragged me to the bedroom.
Okay, perhaps the use of the word “dragged” is not quite appropriate
here, because I was sure willing and more than a little enthusiastic.
I practically rip off his shirt. I love his tribal tattoo—it covers
about half his smooth, sculpted chest and flows over his shoulder and
arm, transforming him into a living work of art…
He kisses me just right, with a heady mix of slow sensuality and
eagerness, one rough hand on my face, and the other on my rear. He
tugs my yoga pants down, tearing his mouth away from mine. “You
know what would look real hot with that Santa hat?”
I pull off his lounging pants in one swift move. “What?” I’m
kind of in a hurry. Part of me is worried one of the girls will interrupt
us—they always seem to.
He trails his finger along the edge of my plain cotton bra. “That
little lacy red number you have. I’ve seen it in your drawer but I’ve
never seen it on you.”
I want to tell him I’m trying to forget that little set. I should
have really thrown it out, but it’s so beautiful and expensive I just
can’t bring myself to get rid of it. Although every time I look at it,
I’m reminded of Weston—our third date—the red dress. That little
red silky set came off so slowly, but it was so worth the wait. Weston
practically made me beg that night, and with every ticking second,
he made me crave him more and more.
I shake my head a little and start making excuses. “I don’t really
like that underwear. It’s a bit small.”
Gabe’s hand still lingers on my rear and he flashes me a wicked
smile. “There’s no such thing as ‘too small’ when it comes to underwear, babe.”
I shoot him a half-smile. The truth is I just don’t want to wear it
with Gabe because I’m afraid all I’ll think about is Weston.
His eyes are dark as he pulls off my cotton undies. “I’m getting
you naked, and you’re putting that little red number on.” His tone
is all business. It’s not a suggestion, it’s practically an order. I know
there’s no use in arguing with him over something so trivial. I know
when to pick my fights, and this isn’t the time.
He pulls the strap of my sports bra down and takes my breast
in his mouth. I bury my hands in his beautiful curls.
I do want this.
And if he wants to see me in the red underwear, it really isn’t
such a big deal.
Naked as the day I was born, I walk over to my lingerie drawer
in our walk-in closet and reluctantly pull out the red set. I trail my
finger along the delicate edges, images flashing through my mind;
my own little erotic film.
As I slip it on, I’m instantly aroused. I’m like Pavlov’s dog—the
red set is like the bell—instant association to sex…toe-curling sex.
After some tugging and slapping to get everything where it should
be, I finally emerge with the infamous red bra and panties on.
Gabe lies back on the bed with nothing on but tight silky black
boxers. “Good God, that’s hot.”
I smile. He’s looking pretty damn good too—sculpted body,
black ink on smooth olive skin and that look on his face…that look
which tells me he’s about to have his fun with me.
And suddenly, I feel like playing too.
He leans back on his elbows. “Come here, Santa’s Little Helper.”
-from The Ground Rules: Rewritten, by Roya Carmen
As a holiday gift to her amazing readers, Roya Carmen is giving away TWO copies of her best selling novels – one for you, and one to gift to a friend! Comment below for a chance to win The Ground Rules, and The Ground Rules: Rewritten.
Contest sponsored by Omnific Publishing. Winners will be chosen on December 17th.