Her Xmas Present

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by Her Xmas Present (epub)




  HER XMAS PRESENT

  Christin M Lovell

  Edited by: Susie Hatfield

  www.susiehatfield.com

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  Her Xmas Present

  Copyright 2012 by Christin M Lovell

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  Cover Image Copyright: Coka

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  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Smashwords Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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  For all the sexy, curvy women in the world and the wonderful, handsome men who love every inch of them.

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  HER XMAS PRESENT

  Chapter 1

  OLIVIA

  “Hey, city slicker.” I wrapped my arms tightly around Ty, instantly feeling the warmth of his hard body against me. I fought the desire building in all my intimate places, trying instead to stay focused on welcoming home my best friend two days before Christmas.

  “Damn, I’ve missed you.” He eagerly returned my embrace, lifting my feet off the floor.

  “Stop before you throw your back out!” I swatted at his arms.

  He laughed, kissing my cheek as he planted my feet back on the welcome mat. He pulled back, his brown eyes piercing my own. “I’ve missed you, Olivia.” His voice was solemn, endearingly sincere.

  “Not more than I’ve missed you.” I gave him a shy smile, unsure of where the awkwardness was coming from.

  This was Tyler Russell: my best friend since kindergarten; the boy who beat up kids for picking on me about my chub, the boy who scouted for lizards, frogs and worms over an entire summer once, the boy who dared me to do more things than I ever would have done on my own.

  Of course, he wasn’t a boy anymore. He’d grown into a sexy-as-sin man that I wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to. He stood just over six feet tall, a fine hunk of solid, lean muscle; his short, dark brown hair was spiked upwards, styled to perfection like always. His clothes were a far cry from my frumpy attire, drawing attention to his delicious frame before your eyes moved up to his beautiful, perfectly balanced features. His nose was well-defined, and he had a strong, sharp jaw; yet, there was a certain softness to his features that always gave him a youthful appearance; although, his brown eyes and pouty lips erased any illusion of innocence. He fed every woman between the lines with his signature smirk or the devilish sparkles in his eyes. The boastful lines he fed every woman were punctuated by his signature smirk and the devilish radiance in his eyes.

  Unfortunately, I was never one of those women that he flirted with wholeheartedly. He looked at me more like his sister, rather than a potential girlfriend; that was, if he could even get past my excess stuffing. He usually dated thinner women; women who were cute and petite. I was the complete opposite of petite, wearing a size twenty-two, and far from cute, with almost thirty candles on my birthday cake.

  A breeze rustled between us in the doorway, sending a chill through me. I shivered, taking a quick step back. Despite the two layers of socks protecting my toes and the oversized, flannel pajama pants and thick hoodie covering my plus size body, I was still cold. I’d always been that way though. I would hate to see how cold I’d get without my extra layer of fat that doubled as added insulation.

  He stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. Black jeans elongated his athletic figure. A black sweater under a grey wool jacket with a red scarf gave him the appearance of an Abercrombie & Fitch model. Tyler had always been a pretty boy. If I didn’t know and love him, I’d be intimidated to talk to him; he was that beautiful to me. I never stopped wanting him throughout these last ten years.

  My heart definitely suffered when he moved to the city a year ago, because when he went a few towns over to finish his law degree, he returned every weekend…but not this time. Now, the city was several hours away instead of just one, and my life hadn’t been the same without him. I knew he didn’t love me the same way I loved him, and I didn’t want to risk our friendship by revealing my true feelings; twenty-four years was too long to throw away. Yet, knowing this didn’t lighten the weight I felt on my chest each time I talked to him.

  His gaze swept over me. “You look good, Lib.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  “Stop.” I rolled my eyes and headed for the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.

  “Your parents’ house is just how I remember it.” He took off his scarf and jacket, tossing them over the back of the couch before following me.

  “Did you expect everything to change while you were away?”

  He watched me for a minute as I stirred the milk and cream on the stove. “I hope not.” There was something in his voice, something wistful yet broken that stopped me in my tracks.

  I set the wooden spoon down and faced him; unable to bite my tongue any longer. My heart broke as the distance that used to physically be between us seemed to have carried and transplanted itself in my house. We were together, but it didn’t feel like old times.

  “What’s wrong, Ty? You’re not yourself right now.”

  Chapter 2

  TYLER

  Shit. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. Damn. I should have known she would. Libby knew me better than anyone else; better than my own family.

  My time away from her only showed me just how much I loved her, and not in a best friend sort of way. Somehow, over the years, my love for her had turned intimate. My dreams went from a laughing Libby throwing mud balls at me to a sexy, sensual Libby doing an erotic strip tease for me.

  Seeing her now made the visual flash vividly in the forefront of my mind.

  Her ample curves had always been a draw for men since we’d been out of high school. Because men, not boys, know how to handle a real woman’s body; and damn, did I want to handle hers!

  Fuck. I shifted my legs, trying to ease the ache in my groin; but with her big, doe eyes gazing up at me innocently, her lips slightly puckering as she studied me intently and her powerfully alluring breasts rising and falling with each breath, I was fucked.

  I looked away, scrubbing my forehead. Her parents’ house had been a gathering place for us growing up since she was an only child and my five brothers were annoying as shit. After her dad - then her mom - passed, I was happy she inherited their house, but not for the reason I ought to be. It was because I could so easily picture us raising our own children here.

  I could already hear the pitter-patter of little feet running across the hardwood floors of the ranch style home. During the holidays, garland would be hung around the fireplace with touches of Christmas warmth throughout the rest of the space like it was now; the Christmas tree would welcome everyone through the large front window like it did me tonight, though it would be stockpiled with presents beneath it…unlike now. When the children were in bed, I would hold her in my arms on the sofa by the warm fire as we gazed at the snow–capped, country landscape outside. This home held memories, these walls held love; this house had everything that I wanted in it, including the woman standing in front of me.

  I’d always thought of myself as a forever bachelor. But damn if I didn’t want to marry Libby; I was humbled by my desire to have children with her, to g
row old with her. They always tell you to marry your best friend; that’s exactly what Libby is to me. A year away didn’t change that. It actually forced me to admit my feelings to myself after so many years of denial. I truly wanted her, and no amount of time or distance would change that.

  “Ty? You’re worrying me.” I heard the concern in her voice.

  I just stared back in response. Her dark, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her soft, round face. Her brows pulled together in the center as she studied me.

  I smiled at her. I couldn’t help it. She was radiant. She was curvy and feminine, caring and selfless. I leaned against the counter, turning on the charm. “I’m good, baby. How are you?” I wagged my brows.

  She cut her eyes at me. “You!” She slapped me with a potholder before turning back to the steaming pot.

  I bit my lip as I got a good view of her curvaceous bottom. Two hands would never be enough to hold that. I would never lack places to fondle, lick, kiss and explore, when it came to Libby. Every night with her would be a new discovery, an adventure…I was damn close to jumping her right now, to get started.

  I tugged at the crotch of my jeans, attempting to give my swollen cock some breathing room. I didn’t find any relief, especially when she bent over to grab a glass bowl from one of the bottom cupboards.

  Chapter 3

  OLIVIA

  I set the glass bowl on the counter and dumped some crumbled chocolate, cocoa powder and sugar into it. I combined the ingredients by hand before slowly adding them into the milk and cream, stirring the liquid continuously as the new ingredients melted into it.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Ty, taken aback by the pained expression on his face. My stomach twisted. Something wasn’t right. We were usually fun, borderline flirtatious, with each other. The laughter and conversation never stopped between us; yet, here we were, standing in silence after not seeing each other for almost a year.

  I gave the brew one final stir before turning off the stove. Unable to hold back, particularly at seeing the strain on Ty’s beautiful face, I focused on him. I leaned against the counter, watching him watching me from the other side. “Talk to me before I start blackmailing you.” I crossed my arms over my chest, getting firm with him.

  “With what?” He lightened immediately, his signature smirk lifting his lips to one side.

  I playfully cut my eyes at him. “I have my sources.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Seriously though, talk to me.”

  His eyes darkened as he stared at me across the counter. “Let’s talk about you.”

  Talk about an abrupt subject change.

  “I heard you went on a few dates with Kurt Bayer. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Is that what this is all about?”

  “Just answer the question.” He stiffened, boring his eyes into me.

  Damn my heart for sprinting a little at the demand in his tone. “It was nothing. He was trying to make Kelly Ann jealous, was hoping she would take him back.” I shrugged. “It didn’t work, but we’re just friends. I could never look at Kurty Jerky as more.” I giggled remembering his nickname from high school.

  Ty visibly relaxed. “You two would be an…odd couple.” He chuckled.

  “We wouldn’t be that bad. Although, I don’t think I could ever get used to his year round appetite for deer jerky.” I scrunched my nose.

  “Well, I know what to get you for Christmas.”

  “No, you’re much classier than that. I can always count on you for a half-way decent gift.”

  “Half-way decent?” He pressed his hand over his heart dramatically.

  I rolled my eyes. “Whipped cream or marshmallows?” I gestured to the steaming pot as I grabbed two mugs from a cabinet nearby.

  “Since when do we use whipped cream?”

  I rolled my shoulders. “You ran off to the city. I didn’t know if your palate was going to return sophisticated.” I smiled, coyly, unable to keep from riling him.

  “Such big words for a country girl.”

  I spun around, threw my hands on my hips, and lifted my chin upwards. “I could run words with you any day, city boy.”

  “Bring it on.” He wiggled his fingers in a come-hither motion.

  “I have to finish your beverage first, monsieur.” The final word rolled off my tongue with a French accent.

  “That’s right, lady. I’m the king of this castle tonight. I expect to be serviced and served.” He wagged his brows suggestively.

  “Watch it, mister. Keep that tone up and all the marshmallows will end up in my cup.”

  He threw his hands up in surrender. “You win.”

  We laughed, our tension finally slipping away.

  “So how was the city? I was surprised you got the holidays off your first year with the firm.” I pulled the ladle from the drawer and began transferring the chocolate brew into two mugs.

  “Overrated. I miss the quiet out here. I even miss my obnoxious family.” He paused for a moment. “I miss you.” His tone was low, thick with emotion.

  I stopped as I grabbed the bag of marshmallows from the pantry. I gave him a wistful smile. “I missed you too, Ty.”

  He trailed his fingers along the countertop. “How are things at the store?”

  “Surprisingly busy. I finally got around to creating an inventory system that will allow us to accept used books. So, customers buy a book, read it, then return it for a fraction of their money; I get to make a new profit on it by reselling it and they get a discount on a new book. It’s working beautifully.”

  “That’s awesome, Lib. Have you looked into offering stuff online too?”

  I shook my head, returning to the steaming mugs by the stove. “Not yet. We’ve had more than enough customers lately. This is my first night off in three weeks.” I dropped a hand full of marshmallows into each cup, closed the bag and set it aside.

  “Are you making close to what you deserve yet?”

  “Depends.” I knew my eyes were shimmering with mischief, as I handed him his cup. “What am I worth?” I lifted a brow, fighting to hold back a smile.

  He didn’t hesitate. “You’re worth the moon’s weight in gold, baby.” He winked.

  “Smooth. No wonder the ladies keep falling for you.” I walked back to the living room and collapsed on the sofa with my beverage firmly between my hands.

  He followed, sitting beside me. He toed off his shoes and kicked his feet up on the oversized, wood coffee table; he held his drink in one hand while the other comfortably stretched across the back of the couch, behind me.

  “Were your parents excited to see you?” I blew into my mug, the marshmallows separating just enough to allow the steam to escape.

  He looked away, taking a sip of his drink. “Mmm. I always loved your hot chocolate.”

  I narrowed my eyes on him. “Tyler Brandon Russell! How could you not stop and see your parents? Your mom is going to have a fit.” I shook my head incredulously.

  He set his drink down on the coffee table.

  My heart kicked up as he directed his full attention on me. With one hand, he brushed a few strands of my hair back, allowing his fingers to glide through my locks as he leaned into me. He gazed into my eyes, his lips hovering an inch from mine. Every breath he exhaled tickled my skin, sending shockwaves through me. “I missed you.”

  I could only watch him with bated breath. He was so close. I noticed every striation in his eyes, the varying stripes in hues of honey, chocolate and bark. His body heat radiated off of him, enveloping me in his warmth.

  He captivated me, holding me in place with his intense stare. I felt him take my mug and heard him set it on the coffee table, but his eyes never strayed; his lips never moved.

  I swallowed hard, my pussy fluttering with anticipation. Fuck. I wanted to close the distance between us, so badly, but I didn’t dare. I couldn’t.

  He thrust his fingers deeper into my tresses, his other hand skimming up my thigh before curling aroun
d my hip. Every second seemed like an hour, as I watched and waited.

  His grip tightened on my hip as he jerked me against him. “I’m going to kiss you, Libby.”

  His lips moved the last inch, before pressing against mine. I swore angels sung in the distance as his soft, pliable flesh danced with my mouth’s agreeable succulence. There was no urgency to his touch, but damn there was heat. Every flick of his tongue along my lips seared my skin and sent pleasure pulsating through me, leaving an insatiable desire in its wake.

  I met his moves equally, grazing my tongue along his. He tasted sweet, decadent; he was a dessert I could never get sick of eating.

  His hands moved along my back. With a single movement of his wrists, I was in his lap, forced to fully lean against his hard body.

  My nipples pebbled, my pussy wept as his thick shaft pressed against my center. His lips teased me, tantalizing me like a preview; his hands were in control, bending and molding my body against him the way he wanted me to be.

  I ached. Damn, did I ache!

  I wanted to rip off his clothes and beg him to fuck me. Either that or I wanted to kick him out, so I could take care of myself. My brain was fogged, lost in the gentle caress of his lips, the firm press of his body, and the irresistible outline of his hard cock.

  I felt wanton. He wasn’t rushing, yet my breathing became more labored by the second. I was riding the line of danger. He was kissing me, but he wasn’t undressing me.

  Mentally, I began to pull back. I didn’t want to get hurt. I must be misinterpreting him. Maybe he was merely curious. I mean, how many guys have been friends with a girl for twenty-four years, but never kissed them?

  I slowly began to untangle myself from him. I was sure I had been crushing him and wanted to allow his lungs to expand now that I was holding my own weight. I carefully drew away from his lips. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. My heart cracked, my soul cried, as I opened my eyes and sat back on the sofa a few inches down from him.

  I struggled to control my breathing, staring off to the left at the front door. I couldn’t bring myself to face him just yet.

  I heard him sit up and adjust himself beside me. I could easily picture him licking his supple lips…they were the perfect size: not too big and not too small, and they’d molded perfectly to mine…he molded perfectly to me.

 

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