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"I had you." He stood up and stepped closer to the spot she stood frozen on. "But, I haven't had enough."
"I have to change; I'm a mess." She turned slightly, but he captured her hand and dragged her forward. She fell against his chest and closed her eyes as the smell of him, soap and cologne, mixed with the smell of the fire, washed over her. He was delicious.
She felt his breath on her neck, and she shivered, wanting this desperately. Wanting him.
"Why change when you'll be naked soon?" he whispered in her ear.
"Oh God, Grant," she moaned as his hands began to roam across her body, her ass, and then under her shirt to touch the skin of her back.
"I've had this fantasy about you riding me right here, on this sofa. Wanna make my fantasy come true, Melissa?" Her shirt came off and fell to the ground. His hands were tugging at her leggings next, pulling them over her hips.
"Yes, yes, yes," she repeated as he moved her near the sofa.
"I've had a lot of fantasies about you, neighbor, since I first started having naughty fantasies…" he had managed to get her leggings to her ankles and she kicked them off as they both tumbled to the sofa. With a deft movement, he had her on top of him, straddling his lap. She wanted contact with him, but his pants were still on. He needed to get naked too.
"What did we do in them?" She moaned the question as he sucked her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra.
"Everything…" he growled impatiently as she tugged at his pants, trying to free what was inside. She released him, grasping his heavy cock in her hand and pumping its hard length in triumph.
"I want to know what you mean by everything," she gasped as her panties ripped away impatiently. She tore open the condom that he had left on the sofa near them and hastily slipped it onto his length, smiling as he groaned with pleasure at that slight contact.
"I'm going to show you," he grasped her hips, pulling her forward until the tip of his dick was positioned at her pussy. "Because, neighbor…" he entered her, his thick length pushing into her, stretching her. She was so wet, so ready for him, there was little resistance. She wanted this, needed this. "I plan on reenacting every one of my fantasies with you."
"That might take some effort." Her head fell back as they set a pace that was good for both of them. His hands gripped her hips, hers his shoulders.
"It will take a bit of work. I hope you're home to stay…"
And at that moment, Melissa felt like maybe coming home was the best thing she had ever done.
About the Author
Gillian Zane is an Amazon bestselling author that specializes in dark genre fiction for adults. Gillian defines herself by the city she was raised in, New Orleans. She’s tried moving away a few times but always comes back. At the age of ten, she decided she would be a writer and has been determined ever since. Between that decision and when she actually finished a book that she believed was good enough to publish, she’s served in the military, worked as a bartender, became a cog in the corporate marketing wheel as a person “that makes things pretty” and has since been laid off too many times to count. She currently writes full-time, but still, continues to “make things pretty” by designing book covers and websites for her fellow authors and bloggers. Gillian lives in New Orleans with her husband, her daughter, and a fat cat named Sushi. A prepper at heart, she also recently added chickens to the mix in her efforts to progress toward self-sufficiency. www.NOLAZombie.com
You can also pick up Let’s Get Naughty 3 here: www.letsgetnaughtybooks.com or https://books2read.com/u/mqBW89
Two Nights Before Christmas
Mellanie Szereto
1
Laurel Street hooked her forearm through the strap of the last cloth tote and stepped back to consider her options. Yes, she’d managed to grab every bag of groceries for a single trip into the house, but closing the hatch of her car posed a dilemma. At least it wasn’t the worst of her current problems.
As she reached for the handle with the least-weighted-down hand, a gust of wintry wind whipped her scarf across her face. Her knuckles hit what had to be the lock mechanism, sending red-hot pain shooting through her icy fingers. “Ouch, damn it! I can’t wait for summer.”
“Let me help you with that.” Her neighbor’s voice distracted her from the burning and throbbing in her hand and incited a much more pleasurable ache a bit lower in her body. Beauregard Sterling Walters—Bull or Coach to most of the residents of Two Forks Hollow—shut the hatch and slipped all four bags from each of her arms. His muscles flexed and bulged in his snug Ohio State sweatshirt, warming her insides if not her frozen hands.
“Thanks, Beau.”
He hefted the load without so much as a grunt. “Lots of groceries today. Are you helping with the food for Robin and Jay’s party tonight?”
She nodded as she hurried ahead of him along the sidewalk to her front door. “Morning sickness has been kicking her ass the last few weeks, so I offered to organize the menu and prep.”
Of course, her newly pregnant coworker sort of deserved a bit of payback after setting her up on a blind date for the shindig—without asking.
“I can help. I worked for my mom’s catering business when I was in high school.” He stuck out an elbow to hold open the storm door while she shoved her key in the deadbolt lock. “And you already know I like to cook.”
The evergreen wreath hanging above her head wobbled slightly as she pushed inside. “Are you sure? I appreciate the offer, but I can handle it myself if you have other things to do. You’re dressed like you were getting ready to go for a run.”
