by Wendy Stone
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Phaze
www.phaze.com
Copyright ©2009 by Wendy Stone
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
Home for the Holiday
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
About the Author
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Published by Phaze Books
Also by Wendy Stone
Beastly Intentions
A Gamble Worth Taking
Messages of Love
Endless
A Fall from Grace
Bound by Love
Pick of the Litter
Captive of Love
A Strange New Breed
Charisma
The Taming of a Vixen
Magic Man
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This is an explicit and erotic novel
intended for the enjoyment
of adult readers. Please keep
out of the hands of children.
www.Phaze.com
Home for the Holiday
an erotic romance novel by
WENDY STONE
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Home for the Holiday copyright 2009 by Wendy Stone
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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A Phaze Production
Phaze Books
6470A Glenway Avenue, #109
Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222
Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.
To order additional copies of this book, contact:
[email protected]
www.Phaze.com
Cover art © 2009 Debi Lewis
Edited by Will Belegon
eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-505-3
First Edition—October, 2009
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
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Chapter One
"Hi, Mom! It's Kenna."
"Baby!” I could hear the happiness in my mom's voice and that tiny little voice inside berated me for not calling home more. “Is everything okay?"
"It's great, mom, I just wanted to call and let you know that I got some time off around Christmas and I thought I'd come home. That is, if that's okay?"
"Okay? Okay? That's wonderful. Your dad will be so happy. He's been wanting a big family Christmas with all the kids and grandkids. Now that you're coming, it'll be perfect. Oh, I can't wait to tell him."
"Wait, Mom, what do you mean all the kids and grandkids? Do you mean Bekka and Steven will be there?"
"Oh, honey. It was such a long time ago, can't you forgive them?"
Yeah, sure, Mom,” I thought, my brain whirling around the fact that my two-timing ex-fiancé and my sneaky bitch of a sister were going to be at Mom and Dad's for Christmas.
"Honey?"
"Yeah, Mom,” I said, offhandedly. “Sure."
"Bring your new beaux home with you, baby. We're all anxious to meet him."
"Yeah, Mom,” I said, distracted. I was having problems getting the last time I'd seen Bekka and Steven out of my mind. It was at my wedding, when she'd come and broke it up to tell Steven that she was pregnant with his child. Two-faced blonde bitch.
I finished the conversation with my mom in somewhat of a daze, sitting back in my chair in my small, one bedroom apartment. I worked for the State Police Post in Lapeer, Michigan. I was a 911 operator and a good one, or at least my last evaluation had said as much. One of the officers I was in charge of keeping track of was Steven. I'd managed to pull his ass out of some minor trouble and he'd come in and thanked me. We'd gone out once and then we'd been damn near inseparable.
That was, until I made the mistake of taking him home to meet the rest of my family. He'd taken one look at Bekka with her thick blonde hair and baby blue eyes and had barely been able to speak. I should have known then that he wasn't right for me. If I hadn't been so stubborn, maybe...
The maybe flew from my head at the knock on the door to my apartment. “Who is it?” I yelled through the door, even though I was pretty sure I knew.
"Delivery!"
I knew that voice. I heard it almost every day at work, in the cubicle behind mine. “Get in here,” I said, opening the door and dragging Nicky in. “What are you delivering?” I asked, lust in my voice. It could have been for the food in his hands or for the hands holding the food. Both were lust-worthy.
Nicholas Evans, six feet two inches of pure male. He preyed on my mind and my libido on a regular basis. But try to get him to realize that. I sighed, wishing that I could be more like my pretty sister, with her confidence and her fashion sense. Instead, I got the Irish in the family. Red hair that held a lot of curl no matter how many times I tried to straighten it. Green eyes that always sparkled with a hint of deviltry, even after Steven. A smattering of freckles graced my nose. They were my cute factor and a place every single man I'd ever dated had felt the need to kiss.
I was curvy instead of lithe and lean, holding onto about ten extra pounds that no amount of sit ups or running at the track would dispel. Where Bekka was model height and weight, I was the shortest in the family. Even Mara was taller than I and she was the youngest in the family, still in school.
"What's wrong?” Nick asked, holding the food above his head, where he knew I couldn't reach it. “Tell me and I'd be tempted to share."
"You tell me what you got and I'll see if I want to share,” I teased.
"Meatball sub,” he said, bringing the bag down to nose height and rolling open the flap. “Your favorite, with lots of marinara sauce."
"Ah hell, Nicky. I can't. I'm on a diet."
"Since when?” he said, and I could see his eyes lingering on my full figure.
"Since I heard that Bekka and Steven are going to be at Mom's for Christmas."
Nick dropped the bag on the counter. He knew the entire story. He'd been at the wedding when Bekka had dropped her bomb and then scuttled away with the groom, leaving the abandoned bride to deal with the fallout. “Hell,” he said, digging a hand through the thick black hair on his head. “I'm sorry, Ke
nnie. Is there anything I can do?"
"Well,” I said, half-joking. “Now that you mention it, you could go with me and pretend to be my boyfriend."
I stared out the window, waiting for his decision. I could feel his gaze roaming over me and I wanted to punch him. Just the thought of him looking at me like that sent my pulse racing and my heart thundering in my chest. It beat so hard I could barely hear anything over the sound.
"Pretend?” he asked softly, coming up behind me.
"Yeah,” I answered, shivering as his hands settled against my stomach. I sucked it in, trying to hide the small bump.
"Would I have to kiss you?” he asked near my ear, his nose nuzzling my hair aside.
"I-If you wanted to. They might expect it.” His lips were warm against my throat, wrenching a moan from my lips.
"Would I have to touch you?” he asked, his hands moving over my stomach and up my arms, drawing me back until I could feel every hard inch of him from his shoulder to his thighs.
"N-Nicky.” I gasped as he pressed his erection into me. “W-What are you doing?"
He turned me in his arms, pressing me back against the counter, his fingers under my chin to hold my lips up. “Practicing, so your family doesn't think we're playing them,” he whispered, his lips finding mine with a softness that made me want to claw my way through his clothes to reach the hard body under them. He twisted my mouth open, pushing his tongue in to play with mine.
I returned his kiss. I couldn't help but return it. I heard him groan, pressing his big body harder against mine, holding me close. I wanted more, much, much more than what he was giving me. I stretched, standing on tip toe to put my arms around his neck, drawing my leg up the back of his until it was hooked around him. How far it would have gone, I don't know. My damn beeper went off, a dull buzz that made me push him away. We were forced to wear them and answer immediately, a burden of the job.
My lips felt swollen, my eyes heavy. I stared at him, panting. “What the hell was that for, Nicky?"
Instead of answering me, he plucked my pager off my waistband and handed it to me. “You might want to get this,” he growled before turning away and pushing his hand through his hair again.
I checked the number on the pager and groaned. Mom must have been on the phone the second I'd hung up for them to call me so quickly. I picked up the phone and punched in the familiar number, my heart jumping when I heard his voice answer.
"Kenna?” Steven said softly, almost as if he were hiding the call from his wife.
"Yeah, what do you want, Steven?” My attention was focused on the call but I couldn't keep my eyes off of Nicky as he made his way around my kitchen, gathering plates and a couple of beers, napkins out of the cupboard. He sat down at my scarred second-hand table, cutting the sub in half and putting it on the two plates. Then he twisted open both bottles of beer, rising and bringing me mine. I took a long pull off it, wiping my lips with the back of my hand.
"Bekka's in her last month of the pregnancy, Kenna. Any stress could harm her or the baby. I was just going to ask if I could get you to stay away from your folks this Christmas. For your sister's sake,” he added.
Fucking snively little weasel, why had I ever loved him? “Maybe you two should stay away, Steven. Mom sent me the invitation herself and I'm going. I'm sorry if that might make you uncomfortable, but maybe you should have thought about family Christmases when you were fucking my sister!” I hung up, taking another long drink of the beer and feeling it rush right to my head. “Fucking snively little weasel!"
"Well, don't hold back,” Nicky said. “Tell me how you really feel about the douche bag."
"He is a douche bag, isn't he? A used-up douche bag owned by an ancient hooker with syphilis."
"Gross, Kenna. Really, really gross.” Nicky waved his hand into the chair across from him and I couldn't help but notice that he'd given me an extra meatball.
"You know, this is going to go right to my ass, Nick."
"You've got a sexy ass, Kenna. Nice and soft, just right for grabbing and..."
"Shut up,” I said, self-defensively. I couldn't sit there after talking to my ex-fiancé on the phone and listen to what Nick had to say about my ass. I just couldn't. I picked up the sandwich, taking a bite and letting the soothing taste of marinara and bread, cheese, and onions—not to mention the meatballs—sooth my ruffled feathers.
"So about the boyfriend gig?” Nick said around a bite. “How long would you need me?"
I almost said “life” but I could just see him racing out of my door, never to be seen again. “How long could you do it?"
I could almost see the wheels in his brain spinning. “Well, I was just thinking it might be a returnable favor. My folks want me to come home for the holidays, too. We could go to your parents’ for Christmas and then mine for the New Year's. That way neither set of parents would have a real long time to troll for information and we can make them all happy. What do you think?"
"You want to spend an entire week with me?” I asked him, shocked.
"I do that now,” he said with a laugh. “Between work and the shit we do together after work, we almost live together."
Oh, how I wished! The thought of getting into bed beside him, of having him there every night was an aphrodisiac, and I could feel my panties getting damp.
"Besides, it's not like they'd ever catch on that we're duping them, Kenna. We could just say things went south a few weeks after Christmas and no one would be the wiser, right?"
"Right,” I said slowly. I picked up my beer, clinking it to his. “Here's to making the parents happy on the holidays."
"To making them happy and keeping them off our cases,” he added.
* * * *
That conversation had been two weeks ago. Now, we stood outside the bus depot, waiting for my father to come and pick us up. I sat huddled on my suitcase, cursing the wintery weather that had made our bus late. It was dark and I almost jumped out of my skin when Nicky came and sat on the other half of my suitcase, wrapping his arms around me. He'd taken to this boyfriend gig like a duck to water, constantly touching me, holding my hand, bringing me little things at work to make me smile. His kisses had been warm, frequent, and had kept me in a constant state of arousal. My poor vibrator was almost worn out from constant use. I'd been sure to pack it, as well as new batteries.
"Cold?” he whispered against my ear, the heat from his breath causing new shivers to tingle through me. His hands rubbed over my arms and down my back and his tongue made a slow foray around the curve of my ear. “I bet I can warm you up."
"Nick, they aren't here. You don't have to pretend yet.” But I didn't shrug him off. Why should I when I enjoyed the attention so damn much? It was going to be hard to go back to just friends when the holidays were over.
"Maybe I'm not pretending,” he growled, suckling lightly on my earlobe and sending another shiver of lust through me. He'd been right about one thing, I was definitely warmer.
I giggled nervously, turning my head to look at him when a flash of headlights played across us. He used that second to kiss me, his tongue eagerly playing with my own, a soft moan leaking into my mouth.
"Can't keep his hands off of her, Mara. Looks like we might have to use the bundling bag for this one, hmmm?"
"Daddy!” I squealed, pulling away from Nicky and launching myself into my father's arms. I missed him so much. The last time I'd seen him, he'd been threatening to kill Steven for what he'd done to his daughters. He was still a big bulk of a man, kept in shape by chopping wood and all the other outdoor things he enjoyed.
"Kenna, baby,” I heard his voice grow gruff and knew he was blinking his eyes just as rapidly as I was, trying to hold back the tears.
"I've missed you, Daddy,” I said, lifting my head out of the comforting padding of his shoulder. His scent was around me, the scent of fresh air and cheap aftershave given to him by us kids. He always smelled like he'd been out working on the snowmobiles or working in his shop. It
brought back such memories, making me feel even more a fraud for what I was about to do. “Daddy, you remember Nicky, don't you? From the wedding? He's my best friend,” I said as honestly as I could. “Nicholas Evans."
"Mr. McEwen, it's a huge pleasure to see you again, sir,” Nick said, standing and holding out his hand for Kenna's father to shake. He'd met the man at the wedding, right before disaster struck.
Call me Doug,” my dad said, shaking Nick's hand with a firm grip and evaluating the man who stood before him. He must have liked what he'd seen. “Well, grab that luggage. If I know Kenna's mom, she's standing at the window almost dancing in her anxiousness to see her babies all together again."
I hugged Mara, noting with a frown that my redheaded little sister was almost half a head taller than me. “How's school?” I asked, climbing in the back seat of Dad's car with her.
"Fine,” she said in a non-committal tone. “He's a hottie, Ken. I'd never have looked at Steven if I had a stud like that to chase after."
"Mara!” I said, more than a little shocked before laughing it off. “He is pretty hot, isn't he?"
"More than a little. Does he have any little brothers?"
"I don't know,” I answered, my brow furrowing. Nick knew everything about my family; he'd sat and listened to every little foible. But I knew next to nothing about his family. That would be changing before this trip was over. “We're heading to his family's for the New Year. I'll smuggle you one out."
"Just make sure you send him air mail, I'd like a little life left in him when he gets here."
I tugged on her hat, pulling it down to cover her bright blue eyes. “Fine, but until then, keep your mitts off of this one. He's mine."
"I'm not Bekka, Kenna,” she said. Then she slammed a mittened hand over her mouth. “Oh, God. I'm sorry, Kenna, that was a terrible thing for me to say."
"It's okay, kid,” I said to her, feeling a huge surge of relief as I realized I spoke the truth. “I'm so over that moron. Bekka's welcome to him."
"If I had a guy like Nick, I think I'd feel the same way."
We snuggled together in the back seat and I felt a warm glow inside. I smiled when I saw Nicky talking with my dad and making him laugh. My father's always been a big one on the wonders of laughter and how it can better your life. I grinned when Dad give me a wink in the rear view mirror. It was his patented stamp of approval. This might work out after all.