Read Christmas Break Online

Authors: Boroughs Publishing Group

Tags: #romance, #love, #holiday, #christmas, #sports, #football, #sports romance, #seattle lumberjacks, #boroughs publishing group, #lunchbox romance, #jami davenport, #rookies

Christmas Break (4 page)

BOOK: Christmas Break
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I blew out my held breath. “You don’t mind
the tats?”

I watched his face through lowered lashes,
loving how the firelight played on his cheekbones and reflected the
flames in his blue eyes. “Aw, hell, I love them. They’re hot.”

Smooth words. I was probably just another
piece of ass to him, but I didn’t care. This wouldn’t be the first
time I’d let a guy use my body while I used his.

Stepping forward, I unbuttoned the top
button of his slacks and pulled his zipper down past his hard
erection. His strangled groan rewarded my bold actions and fueled
my courage. Pushing his underwear over his hips and down his
thighs, I gaped at heaven. His long, thick dick bobbed up and down
as if waving to me.

Well, hello, big boy. I’m happy to see you,
too.

That dick was going to feel incredible
pumping inside me. But first a little foreplay. Or a lot of
foreplay. We had all night. It was Christmas Eve, and Brax and I
were unwrapping each other.

Brax reached for me, and I swatted his hand
away. “My turn first.”

With a smug smile, I knelt down in front of
him. He leaned against the pool table, bracing his hands on the
wooden lip, a true man-slut, more than happy to let me have my way
with him. I wrapped one hand around his thick base and bent my head
to lick the tip of his penis. His hips jerked and his thighs
tightened, muscles bulging.

“Fuck. Aubrey.” A strangled moan wrenched
from his mouth.

I wasn’t done yet. Not even close. Gazing
up, I locked eyes with him as I took his cock in my mouth, circling
my tongue around the head. Another quarterback named Bobby Sheldon
from my wild high school days taught me how to go down on him when
I was just a freshman and he was a senior. I’d always thanked Bobby
for the tutoring and the practice—lots of practice. But even Bobby,
as big as he’d been, didn’t come close to Brax. Brax was freaking
awesome.

My lips stretched around his cock, and I
took him deep to the back of my throat, savoring the salty taste of
him. Pulling back, I sucked on his velvet-covered tip. His
experienced fingers unhooked my bra with a flick, and he pinched
and tweaked my nipples while I did my damn best to give him the
blowjob of his life. Judging by how his cock twitched, his balls
tightened, and his eyes rolled back in his head, I achieved my
goal.

Just when I thought he’d come in my mouth,
he put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me away. “I
don’t want to come like this. I want to fuck you.”

Before I could process his words, he’d
flipped me onto my back across the pool table and peeled off my
g-string, which was followed by his sweater. I sat up and savored
the view. His body was magnificent, all hard angles and long lean
muscles. A single tattoo of a grizzly’s head adorned one bicep.

His sexy mouth kicked up when he caught me
ogling him. Bending down, he gave me a great shot of his fine ass
while he fished a small square packet from his pants. Ripping it
open with his teeth, he sheathed his beautiful boy in a
magnum-sized condom.

I’d never had a Christmas Eve like this
one.

 

Chapter 7

Tattoo Fantasy
Brax

Aubrey had just given me the best head I’d
ever had. Despite what others might think, I’m not a selfish guy.
In fact, when it came to giving and taking during sex, I’m pretty
damn generous. A happy partner makes for a happy me.

Aubrey attempted to sit up, and I gently
pushed her back against the green felt of the pool table. A lion
tattoo peeked out from under her left breast, hiding among the
branches of a leafy tree. It made me smile. Aubrey made me smile.
Thinking of the nights I could spend discovering new images among
her extensive tattoos made me smile even more.

Grasping her calves, I spread her wide,
enjoying the sight of her shaved pussy glistening with her juices.
I’d lap up those juices later, but now I’d promised my dick and
Aubrey the satisfaction that only comes from being buried inside a
fucking hot and willing body.

She wrapped her legs around my waist and
arched her hips, making this mewing sound like a kitten. My horny
little kitten.

I guided my cock to her wet entrance and bit
the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from ramming into her like
a crazed animal. The slight pain didn’t deter me. In fact, it drove
me more nuts. Holding her waist, I pushed past her entrance,
shocked at how tight she was. Most of the beautiful women I’d been
with started fucking when they were pretty damn young, and they’d
spread the joy around. Not Aubrey, judging by how snugly she
surrounded my cock in pure wet, warm bliss.

I sank into her inch by inch until I was
buried inside her hot, moist heaven. Good thing I was disciplined
because I wanted nothing more than to slam into her again and
again. But I didn’t, and I wouldn’t. Not yet. Pressing deep inside
her, I leaned down and took a hard nipple in my mouth while rolling
the other with my fingers. I licked and sucked, while she writhed
on the pool table and begged for mercy.

Forget that, honey. This man doesn’t show
mercy, and you’ll be thanking me for it.

Aubrey arched her back and ground her crotch
against mine, whimpering as she dug her Christmas-red fingernails
into my shoulders. I kissed a trail to her mouth while an
insatiable hunger thrummed through my body. She wrapped her arms
around my neck as I pulled out almost completely, then slowly,
agonizingly slid back inside her. I pulled out, slid inside, pulled
out, slid inside. My rhythm increased with each stroke as my
legendary iron control cracked like a concrete wall after an
earthquake. A few more slow strokes would just about kill me.

I gritted my teeth, tension radiating
through every muscle in my body, but Aubrey grabbed my ass and
pulled me harder against her. Iron control? So much for that. I
thrust deep inside her over and over. By the way she shouted my
name, she loved it as much as I did. Lust ruled, control
surrendered to frenzy, and Aubrey and I lost ourselves in each
other. Our sweaty bodies slid over each other, rhythmically
slap-slap-slapping together.

Her muscles surrounding my dick squeezed
tight, and I knew she was coming, and I wasn’t going without her. I
reached between us and found that little nub. One little touch and
she came harder, writhing and moaning just as I exploded.

I died, because no one survived such
pleasure and lived to tell about it. No one. Aubrey and I soared
like a football through the uprights, together in body, mind, and
soul. Orgasms had always been intensely physical experiences for
me, but this went beyond physical, beyond anything my humble human
brain could ever describe.

And I wanted to do it again.

Aubrey and I clung to each other, chests
heaving like marathon runners, our hair soaked with sweat, our
bodies drained, and Aubrey’s breath tickled my ear.

“Stay with me for Christmas.”

“Just try to pry me away,” I replied.

After what just happened, I wasn’t going
anywhere.

 

Chapter 8

Christmas Present
Aubrey

I woke to sun streaming in my window,
reflected off the snow outside that sheathed everything in white
and silver. The wind had stopped just before midnight, and we’d
struggled five blocks through the snow up the hill to my little
apartment. After an encore or two of sex, we’d drifted to sleep in
each other’s arms.

Brax lay sprawled on his back, his long arms
and legs everywhere, his chest rising and falling in an easy
rhythm. He opened one eye and squinted at me like a pirate, and in
a way he
was
a pirate. He’d completely captured my heart and
stowed it in his treasure chest.

Rolling onto his side, Brax propped his head
on one hand and watched me. His tousled dark brown hair stood up
every which way and also fell onto his forehead in an unruly, sexy
mess. “Merry Christmas, gorgeous.”

“Merry Christmas, handsome.” I smiled at
him, feeling all safe and warm and cared for. Even if it was an
illusion, I’d embrace the pleasure while it lasted.

“You’re beautiful.” He caught a lock of my
hair and wound it around his finger.

“Tattoos and all?”

“Especially the tattoos. They’re like those
paintings that every time you look at them you see something new
hidden in the design. I love them.”

“I’m glad you do.”

“And you don’t?”

“Everyone in my family gets them. I had my
first one before I was in school. A former boyfriend was a tattoo
artist. I was in a wild stage where I wanted everything in
extremes. He did this entire landscape on my body.”

“So you have a constant reminder of him.”
Brax frowned, as if he suddenly didn’t like the tattoos quite as
much.

“Yeah. You can see why I regret them, not to
mention they could be a job deterrent.”

“In what way?” I’d clearly piqued his
interest.

“You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t. I promise. I’d never laugh at your
ambitions, Aubrey. Never.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened
them, he hadn’t moved and still stared at me with that intent
expression so uniquely him. “I want to be a female
sportscaster.”

“Really?” He grinned, as if he really liked
the idea.

“Yeah,
really.
” I rolled to my side
and imitated his pose, watching his expression for signs of
disapproval. There didn’t seem to be any.

“I think that’s cool. You seem to know a lot
about football. You had me figured out, but I’m working on my bad
habits.”

“You should be.” I had to smile. “My family
thinks my career choice is the stupidest thing ever.”

He shook his head. “I know that story.”

Wait.
“You said your family supported
you.”

“On the surface. Underneath, they think I’m
a big failure.” His smile faded, and he looked over my shoulder at
some distant point on the wall.

“My family,” I admitted, “if you can call
them that, doesn’t support anything I’m interested in. I pay my way
through college. They think I should quit and go to work in my
dad’s motorcycle shop like everyone else in the family.”

“Do you ride?”

“I never had a choice,” I said. “We all
ride. I like it, but I’m more like my mother. I don’t have the
fever they have. I’m not wild about the lifestyle. I wanted away
from it.” And from other things. Horrible, embarrassing things.
Only, they’d followed me here just when I thought it was dead and
buried. But I didn’t want to talk about that.

“You’ve been on your own since you left for
college?”

I nodded, taking my own turn at staring past
his shoulder at the wall. “Longer than that, really. My dad wasn’t
one for curfews and rules.”

“You haven’t had it easy, have you?” He
reached out and rubbed the roses on my shoulder. His deep voice was
soft and his blue eyes shone with concern.

“No, but I’m a fighter.”

“I can tell. That’s what I like about you,
and I think you’ll make an awesome sportscaster.”

“Even with the tats?” I asked.

“Especially with the tats. I’d watch your
show. I’d be your most devoted fan.”

I laughed. The man knew all the right words.
What a charmer. And I’d never get tired of that lopsided grin.

“How about a Christmas breakfast?” I asked.
“I’m an incredible cook. You’ll be in shock and awe.”

“Cool. Shock-and-awe away, sweetheart.
Afterwards, we can get to know each other even better.”

He sat up on the side of the bed and
stretched his incredible body, and I took a few moments to study
the play of muscles across his back. Get to know each other better?
I liked that idea, even though I’d spent the last several hours
exploring every square inch of him. Yet, it wasn’t just his body I
wanted to explore. His hopes, his dreams, his successes, his
failures—I wanted to know it all.

I also wanted this magic to extend beyond
the holidays.

* * * * *

Breakfast didn’t happen. Brax and I ended up
back in bed—well, technically on the couch—but we did take time to
eat. After staying in bed until late morning, Brax disappeared for
an hour and came back with a two-foot-tall artificial tree from his
frat house, while I whipped up the best Christmas dinner I’d ever
had. I loved to cook, and yesterday I’d bought a small turkey from
the sale freezer bin along with all the other fixings. Crazy, I
know, but I’d planned on celebrating alone.

I mashed potatoes, made gravy, dressing, a
salad, and an equally awesome pumpkin pie. As a kid I’d dreamed of
Christmases like this—minus the sex part—instead of the ones I’d
grown up with where everyone drank too much, got into fights, and
dinner consisted of burgers and greasy fries. Brax and I feasted by
candlelight at the card table in my miniscule dining area, his
little Christmas tree with its single strand of multicolored lights
blinking merrily in the corner. We watched sappy classic Christmas
movies late into the evening, in between hot make-out sessions. I
loved
Miracle on 34th Street,
and Brax loved
Rudolph the
Red-Nosed Reindeer.

After Susan got her miracle and Rudolph flew
away into the night, Brax excused himself. He came back a few
minutes later with a small wrapped package. “This is for you. I
bought it yesterday when I knew we were having dinner
together.”

He handed it to me. Obviously, he’d wrapped
it himself, judging by the crooked corners and ratty ribbon, which
made it the most beautifully wrapped present I’d ever been given. I
stared at it, thrilled and horrified at the same time. I didn’t
have a damn thing to give him.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I rolled it
over in my hands, savoring the moment and not wanting to open
it.

“I know.” He sat down next to me, his brow
furrowed and little worry crinkles around his eyes as if he were
anxious about me not liking his gift or some dumb-ass thing like
that. I’d love a sack of dog shit if he gave it to me. “Is
something wrong?”

BOOK: Christmas Break
2.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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