Under the Covers
Books by P.J. Mellor
PLEASURE BEACH
GIVE ME MORE
MAKE ME SCREAM
DRIVE ME WILD
THE COWBOY
(with Vonna Harper, Nelissa Donovan, and Nikki Alton)
THE FIREFIGHTER
(with Susan Lyons and Alyssa Brooks)
NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY
(with Melissa MacNeal and Valerie Martinez)
ONLY WITH A COWBOY
(with Melissa MacNeal and Vonna Harper)
Books by Crystal Jordan
CARNAL DESIRES
ON THE PROWL
UNTAMED
SEXY BEAST V
(with Kate Douglas and Vonna Harper)
Books by Lorie O’Clare
PLEASURE ISLAND
SEDUCTION ISLAND
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Under the Covers
CRYSTAL JORDAN
LORIE O’CLARE
P.J. MELLOR
KENSINGTON BOOKS
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
Contents
Naughty or Nice
Crystal Jordan
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Nativity Island
Lorie O’Clare
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Escaping Christmas
P.J. Mellor
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Naughty or Nice
Crystal Jordan
Acknowledgments
Michal gets to go first in all my acknowledgments. The best friend speaketh and so it was and so it shall remain.
Next must be Dayna Hart, who so generously lent her name to my heroine. And Kate and Jerry, who let me steal their Disneyland joke and give it to my hero.
Special gratitude goes to those who critiqued or listened to me whine while writing this story (and, quite possibly, all my stories): Loribelle Hunt, Rowan Larke, Jennifer Leeland, Gwen Hayes, Karen Erickson, Robin L. Rotham, Gemma Halliday, and Bethany Morgan.
And since this story has sexy tattoos in it, I have to give a nod to my tattooed gurus: Eden Bradley, Lilli Feisty, R.G. Alexander, Adriana Parker, and Jeana Perry—best friend of Adriana and the very nice tattooist who let me pepper her with questions while she inked Michal.
The final word of thanks—and all other things writing-related—must go to the fabulous agent, Lucienne Diver, and the splendiferous editor, John Scognamiglio.
1
The scalding water hammered against Dayna’s skin. The shower’s heat was nothing to the fire that swept through her body. Clenching her teeth against the ache that built to a fever pitch inside her, she tried to suppress the need as she so often did. How long had it been since she’d gotten laid? Too damn long. What would Nathan think if he knew how unsatisfied she was physically? A small smile quirked her lips. Her boyfriend—no, she caught herself, her fiancé—would likely try to debate her out of it, explaining that physical desires were fleeting, but emotional compatibility and similar life goals were what mattered. That’s what lawyers did—they debated.
As much as she agreed with him, and as perfect as they were together in every other way, her hormones weren’t feeling very reasonable right now. She shuddered, biting back a frustrated sob. Her nipples tightened to painful peaks, and her sex throbbed. She leaned her forehead against the slick tile wall, letting the water sluice down her. The feel of it running over her flesh was almost a caress. Almost.
Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, she pressed her hands to her lower belly and squeezed her thighs together. It was no use. Nothing would quell the rising ache except orgasm. Dragging in a sharp breath, she slipped her fingers up her torso to cup her breasts. A low moan threatened to slide from her throat, but she swallowed it. Nathan might hear her and come to investigate. This was something she didn’t want to explain, justify, or debate. She’d rather he would decide to join her and slam his cock inside her until she screamed.
Pinching her nipples, she rolled them between her fingertips. Goose bumps rose on her skin and made her shiver. She turned to press her back to the wall, letting the water pelt over her chest and thighs. Her heart rate kicked up a notch, and her breathing sped to soft gasps. She closed her eyes, painting the fantasy in her mind. His big hands palmed her breasts, lifting them to suck the tips deep into his hot mouth.
Back bowing hard, she sought closer contact with those talented lips and tongue. She slipped her hand down her stomach, dipping into her heated pussy. In her daydream, it was his hand that stroked her, moving his fingers over her slick folds until she had to stifle a soft cry. Her breath caught, and her eyes popped open when he shoved two long digits inside her. Snapping her hips forward to meet the thrust of his hand, flames burst inside her. The slide of the water over her skin added another layer of sensation to those pummeling her.
Her dream man pulled back to look at her, watching her twist against the lashes of pleasure. His green gaze slipped down her body, and she felt it pass over her as if it were a physical touch. Her brow furrowed. No, Nathan had dark eyes, not light. She adjusted the fantasy, shower mist blurring the man’s face. Yes. Perfect. Now it was just pure feeling, the fingers moving inside her, the water on her flesh, the heat and desire that raged through her. A shudder shook her, desperation slamming into her. She needed to come so badly.
“Oh, God,” she breathed.
He angled his fingertips until he hit just the right spot, until she couldn’t hold back a moan. Her thighs locked, and her sex clenched tight. Tingles broke in waves down her limbs. Her head rolled against the slick tile as orgasm exploded through her. Her pussy flexed around the thrusting fingers that worked her until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her hips arched again and again, wanting more, seeking more of what she’d needed for so long. Yes. Oh, yes.
The hinges squeaked on the bathroom door. “Dayna, are you all right?”
She jolted, every muscle in her body going rigid. Reality intruded, and the fantasy dissolved, swirling down the drain like so much shower water. She pulled in a steadying breath, her heart pounding in her ears. “Fine…I’m fine. Just finishing up.”
Grabbing a bar of soap, she washed herself quickly. Shit, shit, shit. Had he heard her moaning? Heat suffused her face as embarrassment flooded her. Her muscles shook with the aftereffects of orgasm. And still it wasn’t enough to sate her. She turned her face into the shower spray. The water had gone lukewarm, she’d been in there so long. She sighed. Damn. Shutting off the spigot, she hopped out and hurried to dry off.
“Okay…hurry up in there. I’m trying to book our flight for Christmas.” The door shut behind him with a quiet thunk.
And that was a discussion she seriously wanted to avoid. Nathan had proposed just before Thanksgiving, and he thought now was a good time to meet her family. Just the prospect made her belly cramp. Nathan was from a socially prominent family. He was a lawyer being groomed to step in
to the family game of politics. While she appreciated his drive and ambition, his work meant he had to be decisive, and when he made a decision, it was difficult to change his mind. There were times when she thought he crossed the line into being judgmental, and she didn’t think her relatives had a hope in hell of making a good first impression. Not with a man whose own family was politely distant and who was raised by a nanny.
He just…wouldn’t understand why her mother had enough divorces under her belt to put Elizabeth Taylor to shame, or why Aunt Rainbow thought she was psychic, or why her younger brother, Sam, had had so many wild nights he’d ended up a single father who ran the local bar. Dayna loved her family; she just seriously doubted her fiancé would be very forgiving of their flaws.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she saw Nathan propped up in bed with his laptop across his thighs. Case files were spread across the bed. She scooped his papers over onto his side of the mattress and climbed under the covers.
“The plane tickets and car rental are booked. We fly out on the twenty-first.” He put his hand on her arm, and her insides clenched, goose bumps rising on her still sensitized skin. Would he? But, no. As much as they had in common, she and Nathan didn’t share a lot of physical chemistry. She gave the mental shrug she’d been giving since they’d started dating almost a year ago.
“Okay. Don’t forget to get chains for the tires. The roads can get icy that far north,” she said, wincing. A lot more than the roads got weird that far north. Her little hometown at the foot of Mount Shasta was a totally different world from Los Angeles. Panic fluttered inside her belly again.
Reaching for calm, she grabbed the notepad on her night-stand and started a new list of things to do and pack before they left. She had dozens of lists. Lists for her work, lists for Nathan, lists for shopping—she even had a master list of the lists. Now she added the packing list to the master list.
“I already took care of the tire chains.” Of course he had. She checked that item off her list. Like her, Nathan planned ahead and stuck to the plan. It was what she loved about him. She smiled quietly and read through her list for the week ahead, settling deeper under the covers as the heater kicked on.
Nathan’s cell phone rattled across the nightstand as it rang. It was ten forty-five at night, but it wasn’t unusual for his work to interrupt their evenings. So why did a dart of anger shoot through her when he grabbed his phone and walked out into the living room? She stomped down on the wayward emotion. It was irrational to be irritated by things that wouldn’t change.
And it wasn’t like her to be so irritable, so restless. Frankly, it scared her to death. Whenever her mother had been dissatisfied with her life, it had meant another man, another move, another place for Dayna and her brother to have to start over again. Please, God, don’t ever let me become that. Dayna was happy with her life. She’d worked damn hard to get everything just the way she’d always dreamed. Perfect man, perfect apartment, perfect car, perfect job. Flipping to a fresh page in her notebook, she started brainstorming a list of new ideas for upcoming books. She had a proposal to write for a novel for young adults before New Year’s, and she wanted it done before she left for northern California. There was nothing she found more satisfying than her work. Everyone should love their job this much.
She had it all. But the nagging whisper in the back of her mind always said something was missing. She shook her head. It was pointless to go down that mental pathway. She was happy, damnit. She wasn’t throwing it all away for no good reason. Her sex life wasn’t that important.
While Sam was as freewheeling as her mother and as crazy as their flower-child aunt, Dayna had always wanted to be normal. Not to be the girl whose nutty family was gossiped about in their little town. Not to live under a microscope because she was different. Now she had that. With Nathan.
She just had to survive the holidays—a week, give or take, and she’d be home free to live the quiet, dependable, perfectly organized life she’d always wanted. No problem.
A face flashed through her mind, and she almost whimpered in pain. Jake Taylor. Of course. Sam’s best friend would be there for the holidays. He always was, and he always got a perverse amount of enjoyment out of antagonizing the men Dayna brought home. It had been that way since she’d started dating in high school. He was worse than her brother. A lot worse. The two of them were very bad boys and always had been, living hard and wild with too many women and too much booze. They’d cleaned up a bit in the last few years, but Jake was still a tattoo artist, and he had the ink on his muscular body to prove it. He had the face of an archangel and the body of a classic sculpture, but underneath all that pretty was a man who’d been in a lot of trouble and had had a childhood she knew was anything but angelic. She just wished he didn’t have to be quite so in-your-face all the time. Or so in the face of every guy she’d ever dated.
She closed her eyes and wished for death. There was no way she was going to survive this.
Damn, she was beautiful.
A rueful grin curled his lips. Hadn’t he always thought she was gorgeous? Jake’s smile widened as he watched Dayna unfold her long legs from the passenger side of a silver SUV. Shoving the sleeves of his undershirt up to his elbows, he propped himself against the pillar of her aunt’s porch, the evergreen boughs and red ribbons wrapped around it scratching his skin. He lifted his mug of coffee from the porch rail and enjoyed the show of Dayna walking across the snowy yard toward him. Everything about the woman said class and style, from the fashionable boots to the expensive scarf. Snowflakes clung to rich brown hair that swung in a bell against her jaw, and her pretty breasts bounced with each step. His body reacted to her, his cock hardening uncomfortably. Nothing new there. He’d been hot for her since he was old enough to notice girls. He shook his head and snorted, a cloud of steam erupting in the cold air.
A grin he couldn’t stop kicked up one side of his mouth as he watched her pull the ever-present list out of her purse. The habit was as endearing as it was annoying, and he loved to harass her about it. She really did need to loosen up before she blew a gasket.
It took him a moment to notice the lanky man following his wet dream up to the porch. So that was the new guy. The fiancé. Jake’s jaw clenched, a small dart of jealousy shooting through him. He ignored it, shoved it away. Something else that wasn’t new—he felt it whenever Dayna brought a guy around, even back in high school, but doing anything about his jones for his best friend’s sister was asking for trouble he didn’t want. And he’d been in enough trouble in his life to know.
He could hear the other man’s voice clearly across the yard. “Dayna, you have to be kidding. We can’t stay here. It looks like something out of Deliverance. It’s probably as freezing in there as it is out here.”
“Really, Nathan. I lived here for years—it’s fine. Give it a chance.” Dayna flicked a glance over her shoulder at the man, tucking her list back in her bag. “Besides, it isn’t even that cold for this time of year.”
Nathan looked like he was sucking on a lemon when he swept Rainbow’s cabin with a contemptuous glance. Annoyance fisted in Jake’s gut, and he dragged in a calming breath, smelling the evergreen boughs they’d decorated the porch with. This home was vibrant and bohemian, like the woman who owned it. Maybe a little run-down, but that just made it comfortable. People weren’t afraid to mess up anything in this house. Jake loved it here. The Sharps were as close to family as he’d ever had, and he was more grateful than they’d ever know that they’d taken him in and loved him no matter what. Not many people would have done that for the town drunk’s kid.
“You mean it gets worse than hell frozen over here? You wouldn’t stay here under any other circumstances, and you know it. Why compromise your standards? We’d be more comfortable at a hotel.” The guy’s arms pinwheeled a bit when he slid on a small patch of ice. City boy not used to walking in the snow. Figured. Looked uptight, too. He skidded again.
Jake arched a brow, stroking a hand down his g
oatee to cover a smile. It was mean, he knew. He didn’t give a damn. He only had to put up with the man until they left after New Year’s. The stiffs Dayna dated never lasted from one visit home to the next. Thank God. Fiancé or not, this guy wouldn’t last either. Dayna would never be stupid enough to go through with it. Not with someone so disrespectful of Rainbow’s house. Dayna worshipped her aunt, eccentric or not.
“Well, if it isn’t the wild one himself.” Dayna’s wide hazel eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled up at him. The smile was forced; he could see the stress lines around her mouth and eyes. From what little he’d seen, it must have been a hellish trip.
“In the flesh.” Jake spread his arms and gestured down at himself.
Glancing up, he caught the disapproving look on Nathan’s face when he saw the tattoos lacing their way up Jake’s forearms.
“Hi, I’m Jake Taylor. Good to meet you.” He offered his hand to shake, and Nathan hesitated a long moment before he took it. Jake smiled, and if a tiny part of him enjoyed making the other man squirm, he would never admit it to anyone.
“Nathan Bradford.” His handshake was firm, even if he couldn’t quite keep his lip from curling in disgust as he got closer to the tattoos. “You’re the brother’s best friend, right?”
Jake kept the smile on his face and resisted the urge to squeeze hard enough to hurt. “That’s right. Since the sixth grade when the Sharps moved to town. I’ve known Dayna a long time.”
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